Endurance
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach.
A/N: I love Kenpachi. He's like one big fajita of healing. With blood!
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In the hiatus between Kuchiki Rukia's trial and the Winter War, Komamura Sajin found himself to be a broken man.
"He's put that stupid bucket back on," Zaraki Kenpachi told his 3rd seat as the 7th Division captain trudged by, "I bet he's crying pussy tears under it for his boyfriend."
"Ah, taichou, you're being too loud," Ikkaku opined, eyeing the large captain (which one? You pick).
"Yes," Sajin said, "He is." And without another word, he walked past.
Well. He tried to.
"Chickenshit!"
Ikkaku swiveled to his captain in alarm. The leader of the 11th Division had a maniacal grin cut across his face, with his fukataichou smiling over his shoulder.
"Hey—hey Zaraki-taichou! Don't antagonize him!"
"Chicken blood! Strap on a pair, Komamura! Or did Tozen really have you that whipped? Did he keep your balls in a box? Can you not find the key?"
"Captain's taking the boyfriend metaphor too far," Ikkaku muttered to Yachiru.
"Oh, I don't think Ken-chan's using any metaphors, baldy!"
And she spat on him. For bonus points.
Sajin did not turn. "I am not that weak a man to fall for your taunts, Zaraki."
"Puss-yyy," Kenpachi dragged the word out like it was a rubber band. It snapped back against Sajin's ass hard enough to sting; they saw it in the tensing of his shoulders.
"Chickenshit! Even the Kuchiki princess would be at my throat by now, honorable captain's dignity or not. Or are you still clinging to Tozen's ideals," Kenpachi sneered, "Do you still believe in blah, blah, blah being the good guy?"
Ikkaku began to chart escape routes as the tension in Sajin's shoulders cranked up.
"You can be the good guy, Komamura. But I'm gonna be that guy that kicks your chickenshit ass. Don't you wanna fight back, beast? Let's bring out the bad blood in you. Demon to demon."
Sajin turned, roaring as he drew his zanpakuto—Zaraki dodged under it, went up—and punched the metal mask so hard it shattered.
"Well I'll be," he deadpanned, "No pussy tears. What a bummer, Komamura, I guess you're not gay for Tozen after all."
He then had the audacity to walk away, leaving Sajin to stare after him. The street hissed with people's opinions on his furry face, but the wolf-boy captain just stared and stared and Kenpachi's back.
000
The next time he was drinking tea alone in the garden at headquarters and Zaraki dropped in totally uninvited and not entirely unwelcome.
"You haven't commissioned a new mask yet?"
"There was no point. Your antics ensured that the whole of Seireitei knows what I look like. Don't drink my tea," he added, but the brute was already helping himself. Great, long fingers gripped the delicate pot and poured steaming tea into an earthenware cup. He tossed it back into his gaping chasm of a mouth and pulled a face.
"Tastes like herbal crap. Yachiru no—I said no dammit, no sugar. Get the fuck outta here, you idiot. So," he nodded, businesslike, "Komamura. When do we fight again?"
"Why should I fight you?"
"Because even though you'd lose you might stand a chance at cuttin' me and I really like your bankai. It's good and straightforward. Not like that shit Tozen's—which was fun, but spineless."
Sajin looked half exasperated and half murderous. "You are so insensitive. Doesn't it occur to you that I might not want to hear about my friend, the traitor?"
"Whaddaya mean, your 'friend'? The bastard abandoned you while spouting off hypocritical bullshit about justice. Where's the justice in dumping a pal just 'cause you don't need him anymore?"
Sajin shook his head and raised it to survey the gardens. "Zaraki, spare me your twisted logic."
"Komamura, spare me your twisted loyalties." Kenpachi caught Yachiru by the ankle and threw her over his shoulder. She screamed in delight and pulled on his hair bells as he stood. One eye looked down at the betrayed captain. "I wanna fight you. Ichigo's gone home and I'm bored. You lost your 'buddy' and you're sad. Be a man. Suck it up and sweat it out."
Komamura was left staring again.
Zaraki Kenpachi…
He was a brute, no doubt. But maybe, was there a chance…? Could he also be be something more?
000
No.
"Ha-ha! Nice one, Komamura! You got me!"
This man was a brute, a demon, and nothing else.
"Look, Yachiru! Look at my blood!"
Nothing! Else!
Except maybe a maniac. A psychopath. A sick, contorted, nasty-minded perverse masochistic bloodthirsty bulky ruined crap shit mess of a man.
Their swords slid against each other in an arabesque of hot metal. Komamura's lips were pulled back in a snarl that served the same purpose as Zaraki's horrible grin. There was a word missing from the above list. Zaraki Kenpachi was a life saver. Look at him, saving Sajin right now. Right now, I said. As their bodies bled and their eyes flashed and their soul cutters drank each other up in joy that came from fulfilling their morbid purpose, Sajin was being rescued.
If Tozen could see him now, fighting for the sake of fighting.
"I knew it, Komamura! You're a beast!"
It was so strange that that word no longer grated on his nerves. It didn't crush his heart. It didn't do anything except make him snarl more. It was the closest he could get to a laugh right now, so soon after Tozen absconding, but it was a very good start. It was okay for Zaraki to call him a beast. He didn't mean it in the same way that other people did. He meant it as a compliment. A beast was a fighter: the best kind of fighter.
It was okay for Zaraki to call him a beast because both of them were.
It was okay for Zaraki to call him a beast because they were friends. That wasn't a reason Sajin could accept right now, though. For now it was enough to be a demon. Other people hugged and cried. Kenpachi and Sajin fought.
"You're a demon, Zaraki!"
Demon to demon. They fought.
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