About Face
A Zaraki x Unohana Fanfic
Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any of the respective characters.
Pairings: Zaraki x Unohana, hints of Ikkaku x Yumichika.
A/N: Surprisingly, my first Bleach fanfic is not a yaoi. Unsurprisingly, it's focused on members of Eleventh Division (according to azilver, I'm probably being predictable and contradictory at the same time). Now, appreciate Zaraki/Unohana in all its (should be) canon goodness.
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"Ain't nothing to look at over here, woman."
The delicate frown on her face deepened, and Unohana reached over his shoulder, tugging something into his peripheral vision. He shifted his face and a tuft of pink hair immediately tickled his nose. He snorted and Yachiru giggled as the knotted pink mess on top of her head moved with the pressure of the older captain's fingers.
"'Hana-chan, that tickles!"
"When was the last time you brushed your hair, Kusajishi-fukutaichou?"
"Um…" Yachiru tilted her head, tapping a little finger against her bottom lip. She shrugged. "Dunno. Ask Ken-chan if he remembers!" she added brightly.
Kenpachi scowled when Unohana's placid gaze returned to him. "Yumichika ain't around to do it this week," he grunted as a means of explanation.
One brow edged upwards. "That is a poor excuse, Zaraki-taichou."
"Well, what the hell do ya expect me to do? It's only hair, it can wait till Yumichika gets his ass back here."
She continued to frown. "Yachiru's hair needs to be tended to. Now."
"She can brush her own hair," he pointed out with equal persistence. "And if she doesn't want to, she doesn't have to."
Unohana looked at the grinning little girl clinging to his neck and yelling "baldy, baldy!" at a mortified Ikkaku Madarame walking past them to the Eleventh Division offices, and sighed. Yachiru's snarled and tangled locks were clearly not bothering her at all – and given Kenpachi's own indifference (after all, the bells served no decorative purpose. Kenpachi certainly didn't wear them because he though they looked nice), they inevitably wouldn't.
"Zaraki-taichou, if she had any intention of brushing her hair, she would have done so by now."
Kenpachi didn't have the patience for this, not when he could be beating up Ichigo or Ikkaku instead. Unless Unohana Retsu attacked him right now (because that would make her a helluva lot more interesting), Kenpachi simply couldn't bring himself to care. So what if Yachiru's hair was a little knotted? So long as Yachiru was happy, Kenpachi was happy.
"Enough of your meddlin', woman. Yachiru likes her hair that way. Only reason Yumichika brushes it is 'cause he'll bitch in my ear for a week if I don't let 'im."
"Yumi-chan likes me to be pretty," Yachiru informed Unohana rather happily. "And I like making Baldy jealous, too, 'cause Yumi spends hours brushing my hair, and it's fun watching Baldy sulk in the corner 'cause Yumi isn't paying any attention to him."
Unohana sighed. "Zaraki-taichou–"
"Fine. Here." He reached behind him with one hand and picked Yachiru up by the scruff of her hakama. She squealed indignantly at being plucked from her comfortable place on his back, and Kenpachi held her up in front of Unohana. Her eyes widened in surprise, but she held her arms out and Kenpachi dropped Yachiru into her grasp.
"If ya want her hair to be brushed so badly, you do it."
She smiled then, cuddling the little girl to her chest (Yachiru really didn't mind since Unohana smelled really nice, almost as good as Yumichika). "Thank you, Zaraki-taichou. I'll have Yachiru home later this afternoon."
He grunted an affirmation. "An' no bows or frills, you hear me?"
Her smile turned slightly mischievous then. "I don't know about that, Zaraki-taichou. I think Kusajishi-fukutaichou would look quite cute with a ribbon in her hair."
"Oi, woman, I mean it! If she comes home with pink ribbons in her hair, I'm comin' after you and I'll beat the crap outta ya."
"If that is the case, then I look forward to your visit, Zaraki-taichou."
Seeing the sweet (and yet so fucking dangerous, somehow) expression on her face, he had half a mind to take Yachiru back and just run.
Preferably as far away as possible.
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Four hours later, Yachiru was delivered back to the Eleventh Division offices, pink locks shiny, clean, and tangle-free. A short and neat braid hung down her neck, tied with a nondescript, soft, purple–
"I told ya no ribbons!"
Yachiru pouted. "'Hana-chan said it looked pretty in my hair."
"Goddamn meddlesome woman… the hell does she think she is!?"
The Eleventh Division's lieutenant grinned as she watched her beloved Ken-chan stomp away and yelled after him, "'Hana-chan said she'll have the tea ready by the time you get there!"
Ten minutes after Kenpachi stormed out, Ikkaku strolled in and glanced around the office, surprised to see Yachiru there without the captain.
"Oi, where'd the taichou go?"
"He's having tea with 'Hana-chan."
Ikkaku blinked. "Taichou. Having tea. With a girl?"
Yachiru nodded happily, and Ikkaku squatted in front of her, face breaking into an eager grin. "You're shittin' me. Our taichou with a girl? What'd you say, a Hana-chan? Who is she? She's gotta be a real firecracker to deal with the taichou."
"You know, 'Hana-chan." Yachiru mimed the braid going over her shoulder, around the front. "The one that makes us all better when we get hurt. She's also got that flyin' fish thing–"
"Unohana-taichou?"
"Yeah, 'Hana-chan!"
The blood drained from Ikkaku's face.
"Somethin' wrong, Baldy?"
Ikkaku wisely kept his mouth shut.
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Zaraki Kenpachi arrived home later that evening with a very subdued expression on his face. Ikkaku – smart man – bit his lips to keep from smirking at his captain, especially when Yachiru asked innocently, "Did you enjoy your tea-time with Hana-chan?" and Kenpachi just scowled.
Given that the room didn't immediately explode into rubble, Ikkaku could only take it that the answer to Yachiru's question was yes.
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TBC
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