The cat was the saddest thing he'd ever seen. As that thought crossed his mind he realized he hadn't seen too many sad things to compare, except for wet little girls that had fallen into giant mud puddles. Those were pretty sad, yeah.
One ear was missing completely, chopped clean near the skull, its fur was matted or gone completely in some places and any god damned time he tried to get near it? It ran away. Today was no different, either, as he'd lifted a foot to shoo it away from the little girl that beckoned it, then leaned down and scooped her up with endlessly long arms. He watched it run off, a bell at its neck jangling almost in indignant tones.
Now, he wasn't the sort to be afraid of anything--especially not a cat, but he could be lazy. So he never chased after the cat when it ran...usually.
She monkey-climbed around to the front of his chest, cherubic little baby hands fisted tightly in his jacket. Then, she scowled something fierce up at him. She scowled like she'd seen him scowl down the knock-kneed weakling too scared to move their swords as he approached--the kinda scowl he liked to use to make 'em piss their pants.
On her? It missed the mark just a little bit. Just a tad. It was cute, sorta like watching kittens bristle and try to look big when they were really just itty bitty balls of floof.
"You ain't havin' no fuckin' cat," He finally rumbled with a voice like the rasps' edge of metal, or maybe landslides. "So get that outta your pink cotton-candy head right now, got it?"
Wordlessly, she whipped a fat little hand out from its twist in the cloth at his chest and pointed adamantly in the direction the ugly feline had gone. She hadn't quite mastered the use of words yet; he managed to understand her well enough without them anyway, but he figured now was a good time to practice parental discretion to pretend he was clueless.
Worked for five seconds as he pushed through crowds as boulders break seas, until someone's chubby hand smacked into the side of his face with a loud crack and enough force to tilt his head sideways. Che, who's been teaching this kid this shit?
"Buh! Buh!"
Zaraki Kenpachi halted in the middle of the street at the behest of several people and stared down at the pink-growth permanently attached to his chest. "What?" He blinked at her.
"Buh! Buhhhhh!," Yachiru forcefully insisted, pointing down an alleyway again. It was her first word. Secretly, he'd been hoping that it would have been 'maim', or 'slaughter', or 'murder', but damn, beggars couldn't be choosers. If she decided to stumble all over some sort of...way of saying cat? Shit! He was all for getting her whatever she wanted at that moment in reward. Even disgusting old cats.
"Fine, get that knot outta your face. I'll find the ca--" he checked himself, lips twisting in a sour expression. "...I'll find the Buh."
God he hated life right now.
Yachiru, of course, squealed in several octaves high pitched enough to set several of the nearby dogs to barking, letting a round cheeked face simply glow with delight at getting her way. She burbled nonsense happy noises into his neck, Kenpachi found it difficult to keep glaring at everything that moved as he thundered down the alleyway the cat was last seen going down, but he managed.
Night had snatched away the endless blue skies, replacing it with the velveteen of endless black white-speckled with stars. He watched them with her nightly because that's what she liked to do. And it kept her mouth shut. And she didn't cry. Or scream. Or babble. Or fuss or all the other things she did that he didn't understand≈they all stopped when the stars came out.
'Cept now, she was slumped in the half-lotus of his legs, snoring lightly in sleep. If he had been a more emotional man, the bewilderment on the stone-carved planes of his face might have been bemusement instead. He lifted one of his massive, long fingered hands now covered in suspiciously cat-like scratches from knuckle to knuckle and brought the object trapped between forefinger and thumb up to the light.
"Buh," he snorted...albeit quietly so as not to wake Yachiru up. "Not Buh, not cat, it's bells."
His eyes narrowed dangerously to thoughtful little slits on the little round bit of brass that jingled.