A shrill shriek roused Zaraki Kenpachi from his drunken sleep. He growled a curse and stumbled out of his room down the hall. It had to be past midnight. The moon was nearly full and cast a silvery glow on all it touched. Another scream prompted Zaraki to pick up the pace to a full sprint. He thundered past kitchens and the mess hall to stop outside her door.

He peeked inside. Her tiny form was tossing restlessly. The sheets were strewn across the floor, her pillow atop them. She whimpered and curled on her side.

"Yachiru?" he whispered. When she continued to moan he knelt next to her bed and gently shook her. "Yachiru? Wake up, it's ok, I'm here now, everything will be ok."

"Ken-chan…" Yachiru mumbled in her sleep.

"That's right," he soothed. "I'm here."

"Ken-chan there were hollows," she sobbed. "I couldn't move and I was alone and-"

"Hush, I'm here now," Zaraki gently stroked a sweaty lock of hair out of her eyes. "I'll protect you."

"You," Yachiru mumbled sleepily. "You weren't there…"

If someone asked Zaraki what he was afraid of, he would declare himself fearless. Why shouldn't he be? He was the Eleventh Kenpachi, the greatest of all warriors. He had slewn hundreds of spirits and killed the last Kenpachi for his title. He didn't fear dying. For if he died, then the person who slew him must be insanely powerful. He would be content to know that his killer was more talented than him. He didn't fear heights or spiders or sickness. He could care less if he was hurt. But he wasn't fearless.

If he had one wish, it would be that he wouldn't have to lie when he denied having fears.

He could live without his captaincy, food, battling, maybe even sake, but he could never go on without his exuberant lieutenant.

Ever since he had happened upon her on that fateful day, he had changed. He remembered seeing her, drenched in the blood of his enemies and feeling something click. Some would say that fatherhood made you softer, but in truth it hardened you more than any battle or wound. On the rare occasions where he lost hope, he pushed on for his pink-haired shadow.

Someone once said that having a child was like living with your heart outside your body. Zaraki lived by this adage and it was this belief that led him to crawl in bed with her and hold her tight. He fell asleep to the steady rhythm of her breathing.

The next morning he was awoken by the squirming of the little girl.

"Ken-chan! Let go! You're crushing me!" Yachiru protested. He loosened his death grip on her. She sprang lightly off the bed, turned around, and put her hands on her hips. "What are doing here anyways?" Zaraki grinned. He knew better than to mention her nightmares and sobbing the night before. She was too much like him.

"I got scared, so I came in here so you could protect me," he smiled. It wasn't his normal savage smile, but a kinder one he reserved for private moments.

"Stupid Ken-chan," Yachiru scolded. "You aren't scared of anything."

If only that was true.

To his lieutenant's surprise, Zaraki knelt down and hugged her tight. She resisted for a moment then relaxed in his arms.

"I love you Kenny," she said simply.

"I love you too Yachiru," he replied and pulled her closer.


Happy Valentine's Day.