Hey guys. I know, I know, You're all waiting for more Panther King, and I really want to give it to you all. This little musing just wouldn't leave until I wrote it though, so while I was on a writing break earlier today, I decided to write it out. I'll have the next chapter of Panther King out when I can. For now, enjoy. Personally, i thought it was cute.
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach, or the story Baker's Helper by Cynthia Anderson (the inspiration for this little one-shot)
The little girl who doesn't eat goes to his grandfather's bakery everyday at the same time. He'll be filling a tray of cannoli, and there she'll be, crouched by the case, her face pressed against the glass. He'll mix sugar and ricotta, occasionally wiping his hands on his apron, but all the while watching her.
She is small and thin, little more than nothing as her pale skin is drawn tight over bone. Despite that fact, as she is kneeling there in front of the case, she is very pretty, with short pink hair and a cute, though tired looking, little smile on her lips. He does not move, save for his mixing, as her eyes take in the racks of tiramisu and macaroon, revealing what she likes by where she let's her gaze linger. Sometimes, her breath leaves little puffs on the glass and he thinks 'angel,' but there are fingerprints too, faint whorls he will find later when he has restock the racks or clean the glass.
Finally he asks, "Can I help you, miss?" He asks it in a way that, he hopes, he would ask any other customer: Calmly, and almost stoically.
He let's her eyes rise slowly, responding to the deep, masculine voice that a moment ago rang in her tiny ears. He feels his heart move, restless in the current situation. "Just looking," she says, just as she does every other day, her voice soft, as if she's down the street at Shiba's browsing silver. Then she stands, steps back, and runs her tongue over dry lips, all the while keeping wide, chestnut brown eyes on him.
He turns to help another customer, conscious of his grandfather, Ginrei, in the back. When he looks again, the girl is gone, until tomorrow, when she will return as his grandfather is pulling biscotti from the oven and the bakery is filled with the nutty scent.
Daily, the girl who doesn't eat is thinner but beautiful as he waits, watching, until one afternoon she struggle to rise from the case and he realizes she is disappearing. He can see the ribs through her blouse, her clavicle, the bones of her jaw, and just how thinly her skin is beginning to stretch in order to cover her. That night, he lays awake in the still hot air of his room, and when he finally does sleep, he dreams of that little girl.
In the bakery the next morning, he takes a box and fills it with things he knows that she likes, one sweet after another. He begins to feel a little bit better. He is quiet as he works, licking chocolate from his fingers as he does. Yes, he will be the one to do it. He will be the one to feed the girl who doesn't eat.
He is ready for her when she comes, and he catches her before she kneels before the glass. "Here miss," he says quietly, pushing the box that he has so carefully filled just for her across the counter. "This is for you."
She does not move. The girl simply stares at the string-tied package.
"It has all of the things that you love," he tells her. "Lobster-tails and babas, a couple of half-moons (black and white cookies), ciarduna, and tiramisu. Take it, please." He pushes the box a little closer, and she reaches out. Her fingers touch one side of the box, and his the other.
He sees the pulse at her neck throb wildly. "No," she says quietly, her voice cracking. "I can't, I-" She pulls her hand back, and then looks at him as if she's trapped. "This is a nice place," she says, bowing low very quickly, her bubblegum hair fluttering quietly, and then she is gone, the door banging closed behind her.
He takes care hide the box behind the cakes, and then when he leaves, he take it with him. He knows that it's not good, stealing. He knows that it is breaking the law. But that night as he lies awake, letting one of the babas dissolve in his mouth, he realizes that all this really belongs to the little girl who doesn't eat anyway. His grandfather doesn't need them, and he could always make more of them. She had earned them long ago.
The next afternoon, she doesn't show up. He isn't surprised by that fact, since it was him that scared her off. He hates himself as he stands there, waiting for her to come, but she never does.
On the second day, she does not come once again. His grandfather comments to him about how his little helper is missing. Byakuya regards his grandfather with a quiet glance, seeing the man's knowing eyes. He can see it. The man knows what his grandson tried to do. That night, he again lays awake, staring at his plain white ceiling. He worries for her condition, her thin body slowly thinning further and further until she finally disappears from his mind. Eventually, sleep claims him, but the girl who does not eat appears again in his dreams, only for her to disappear for him all over again.
On the third night, after leaving his grandfather's bakery after work, from the street, he pots her inside Urahara's. The young girl stands apart from the espresso drinkers, holding a basket of pizzelle. She brings the wafers to her nose, and as she breathes deeply of the sweet confection, he inhales the sweet scent of anisette with her. He is dizzy, standing there on the dirty sidewalk, not knowing whose longing it is that he is feeling, be it hers or his own.
He leans back against the brick and lights a cigarette, considering what he will say when he goes inside. He stands until his cigarette is little more than a stub, finally stepping it out. The door opens with a jingle, warm air hitting his skin in sharp contrast to the air outside. Eyes travel to meet the new arrival, the girl's as well. She watches him quietly as he moves to the counter, placing his order.
He moves, tiramisu and a small carton of milk balanced in his hand, to her. Her eyes widen when his free hand presses against her shoulder blades, his touch guiding her to a small table for two. The cake and the milk he sets on the table, pulling the chair out and lifting her into it and taking into mind just how light she is. He sits upon the other chair himself, slowly pushing the sweet treat and milk to her as he did with her box three days before.
She immediately begins to look scared. "No." She looks from the cake to him, her chocolate eyes wide. "I can't! I don't-"
"Yes, you can." His words were quiet and warm, his gaze soft. "You more than deserve it. More than any of these people here. Please, have it." He gives the plate one last small push, the sweet now right before her.
She looks from the cake to him once again, her look scared an apprehensive for reasons he doesn't know why. She is slow to pick up the fork, watching the treat with a look of almost pure sadness. Her eyes flick to him one last time as she cuts into a corner of the sweet, before flicking back to the forkful of custard and ladyfingers. He's quiet as she slips that first bite slowly between her lips.
She sits quietly for several moments before pulling the fork from her lips. He watches just as quietly as she chews the sweet desert and finally swallows. They both stay quiet for several more moments, until finally, a hiccup. He hears it just as he sees the first tears reach her eyes and the fork clatters to the tabletop. He is up from his seat and kneeling in front of her a moment later. The tears stream down her face as he brings up a finger to wipe them away. "What's wrong?" He asks it quietly as he brings a handkerchief from his jeans' pocket.
"I…I…" she hiccups between sobs, her pretty little face marred by the salty streaks of tears. "I haven't had this since mommy went to sleep." Byakuya feels his heart move a little bit more for this girl. "She used to make it all the time. But then she got sick, and then the doctor said she had to go to sleep, and that she wouldn't wake up." She continues to hiccup as he wipes the tears away.
"What about your daddy?" He does not want to ask this. Given her state, there can only be one answer.
"Daddy's asleep too," she says quietly. "He had to go away one day. He said it was to keep me and everybody else safe, and then he got on a big boat and he left." Her sobbing gets a little stronger. "But when he came back, he was asleep too!" Her sobbing grows stronger still. Byakuya pulls her into an embrace, idly aware as her small arms wrap around his neck.
"You miss them very much, don't you?" He asks quietly. He knows the feelings that she is going through. He went through such a thing long ago. Since then, he's only had his grandfather to care him. The young pinkette shakes her head up and down in his shoulder. He pulls her away from his shoulder. Her nose is running and more salty tears stain her cheeks. "What is your name?"
"Y-Yachiru," she hiccups, he wiping her nose and tears away.
"I'm Byakuya." He continues to wipe her face. "Yachiru, do you have a place to stay? Do you have anyone to take care of you?"
"Nuh uh," she says quietly, looking at her lap. "Mommy and daddy's mommies and daddies went to sleep a long time ago. I only had mommy and daddy, and I ran away after mommy went to sleep."
His heart almost breaks for her now. He'd at least had his grandfather, but this girl had nobody. Not anymore. "Would you like to stay with me?" He asks it so easily. He knows the people around are listening. Who cares what they think? They would not help her. They had made no move to do such earlier. In his mind, they all could rot, along with their cold, frozen hearts.
Yachiru's head snapped up to him. She looked at him quietly for a moment, her lips slightly agape. Then she turns her face away from him, lightly blushing. "R-really? C-can I?" More tears are threatening to spill from her eyes.
Byakuya only lets out a small smile. "Of course you can. And then if you want to, you can come to the bakery with me in the morning. Would you like that?"
She does not answer, at least not vocally. She nods a few times, more tears spilling from her closed eyes, the only audible sound she makes a muted, "Mm hmm."
He smiles now, his lips turning up, but nothing more. He holds out a pale hand. "Then shall we go home, Yachiru?"
She opens her eyes, looks at the hand, and then at him. Her own smile appears, her eyes close again, and she hold out her arms. "Please?" She asks it quietly, a few more tears coming.
He leans in close, letting her wrap her arms around his neck again as he picks her up. He leaves the shop quietly, catching eyes of the blonde haired owner and his orange haired employee, both of them giving him a smile. The door jingles as he opens it, and the cold air hits them both, but he will keep her warm by wrapping her in his jacket. And when he gets her home, he will get her something warm to eat and drink, and see if he has anything warmer for her to wear than the thin clothing she has on now.
For the entirety of the walk she says almost nothing. She simply holds onto him and buries her face in his shoulder. Just before the two of them arrive at his house, she lets out a few tiny, warm, and happy words.
"Thank you, Byakushi."
Hope you guys enjoyed it. To Panther King fans, I hope to see you all again soon.