Disclaimer: I don't even own normal Bleach, on account of being too scared to ruin my clothes.
~o~
The shadowy sky was stained with scarlet firelight. Demented howls from inhuman jaws echoed over the blood soaked battlefield, and the medics of Squad Four ran straight towards the site of the devastation, following the trail of broken bodies and gouging scars in the earth.
They had started out travelling in a massive group consisting of nearly the entirety of available Squad Four members, in order to break off into smaller groups who could cart injured back to the medical base further back, which was guarded and presided over by Captain Unohana. Now, as they neared the site of the battle itself, they had less than thirty members remaining.
Three advance groups from Squad Six, and four from Squad One, had already confronted the enemy.
Judging by the injured Soul Reapers they'd seen so far, nearly all of them had been defeated.
Hanatarō Yamada's reed sandals pushed off the top of a small rise, where another three Soul Reapers lay bleeding and unconscious. "Tokicho," Hanatarō said, addressing the leader of the Nineteenth Relief Team, "perform emergency treatments on these three, and sweep this valley for further injured with your team. Bring them back to base, and await further orders from Captain Unohana." The Third Seat of Squad Four hid his shudder at the severity of the injuries. He never got used to blood and death, despite his many years as a medic. "The rest of you, stay with me! We're nearing the main battle, so stay on your guard!"
This was bad. Hanatarō struggled to regulate his breathing and keep his head clear, knowing he had to set an example.
The Arrancar, Obliquerro, had reportedly opened a massive garganta, connecting the deadly realm of the Hollows directly to the peaceful Soul Society, and unleashed hundreds of the man eating monsters on the helpless country outskirts.
But if the garganta had been opened, Hanatarō wondered fearfully, why weren't there many more Hollows? Had something happened to stop their advance, or were they gathering in an army to march on the Soul Society as one?
They needed more answers. They needed-
Hanatarō leapt back just in time, as a Hollow the size of a house burst out of the ground, its snapping white jaws tearing a hunk of fabric from the hem of his Shinigami robes. "Hollow!" Hanatarō shouted, gripping his zanpakutō with sweating hands, his tone firm despite the voice in his head screaming like a child. "Squad, use Formation B!"
A chorus of assent echoed behind him. Soul Reapers flash stepped to either side, surrounding the hulking black Hollow marked with vivid blue stripes. The left side of the formation raised their hands, barraging the Hollow's side with a shower of scarlet Kidō, and the Hollow's enormous white mask of bone turned, fixing on them with empty eyes, cuing a similar strike from the right side. The Hollow screamed with pain, snapping its jaws towards one side while attacking the other side simultaneously with a sweep of its cudgel shaped tail.
Both sides flash stepped away in sequence, dodging the blows neatly, while a lone Soul Reaper dropped down from the sky, unnoticed due to the diversion of her comrades, her silver blade carving a deep furrow through the Hollow's white mask. The terrible howls of the Hollow faded away as its body dissolved into dust.
The whole maneuver had taken less than seven seconds. Hanatarō nodded at his comrades in recognition, breathing an inward sigh of relief. They would undoubtedly face worse before the day was through.
"Third Seat, we have another injured man!"
Hanatarō turned, recognizing the Soul Reaper who lay propped up against a tree, struggling to breathe. He was conscious, unlike the others they'd seen so far. "Rikichi," Hanatarō greeted, signaling his squad to stop their advance. "What is the current situation? Any information you can give will be useful!"
Rikichi looked up at him, his terrified eyes partially hidden by his blood soaked hair. "You can't win!" he said, sounding panicked, his voice rough. "Don't go, you can't-"
He broke off coughing, and Hanatarō smiled at him reassuringly. "Don't worry about us, we aren't planning on fighting at all," Hanatarō assured him. "We are to provide medical assistance, and support any Soul Reapers still able to fight. We only need to help the front lines until the captains arrive – they'll be on location within fifteen minutes, from the last report."
Some of the panic faded from Rikichi's grey eyes. "Good," he managed, sounding relived. "The captains…and lieutenants…they can handle this, I know they can. Renji will…" He broke off coughing once more, flecks of blood staining his hand.
Hanatarō signaled a few of his comrades to sweep the area for more injured, while he began attending to the more serious of Rikichi's wounds. Soft amber light coalesced around his hands, spreading a warm glow throughout the injured tissue. "What can you tell us about the current situation?" Hanatarō prompted again, as his patient relaxed.
"The Arrancar, Obliquerro…he's strong. When you look at him, your vision just goes black. I-I couldn't see anything. He almost killed me, but got distracted…I had to run, had to get help…" Rikichi grabbed Hanatarō's robe with more strength than he thought possible, looking up at him with a fevered glare. "Yachiru is still fighting. She needs your help, or she might…"
Hanatarō's blue eyes went wide. "Lieutenant Kusajishi is in trouble?" he repeated faintly, his heart thundering in his ears.
Something like shame colored Rikichi's cheeks. "I had to run!" he insisted, looking at his clenched fists. "I didn't have a choice! I couldn't…I would have died…"
"Third Seat Yamada, we have to move," his next in command reminded him, her pale green eyes grim.
Hanatarō nodded, and stood shakily. "Azumaru, take over healing Rikichi. Squad, let's move out."
"The battle is in the valley just beyond the next ridge," Rikichi mumbled, avoiding their eyes. "When I'm healed…I'll definitely go back…for Yachiru…I wouldn't just-"
"I'm sure you will," Hanatarō said soothingly. "That's what you hero types are good at, right?" His words seemed to calm the injured young man, and Rikichi slipped his eyes closed, focusing on breathing.
The remaining group of medics disappeared in a flash, sprinting towards the battlefield with renewed determination. Only twenty remained. They could only hope it would be enough to retrieve as many injured Soul Reapers as possible before the arrival of the captains.
The medical squad arrived on the crest of the ridge barely five minutes later, and stopped short, staring with horror at the battlefield below.
Dozens of Hollows littered the ground. Many were still alive, their terrible injuries oozing thick green blood, incapacitated, but not dead, since their masks had yet to be shattered. Among their bodies, the unconscious members of the stealth squad could be seen, the faint rise and fall of their chests the only indication of life.
A crack in reality itself stretched all the way across the horizon, yawning and terrible. But despite the incredible length of the garganta, it was only open about five feet tall. Gnashing white fangs and horribly disjointed limbs protruded from the gate, struggling to escape into the warm realm filled with easy prey and delicious flesh. A shining outline of electric pink fire held the gate mostly closed, originating from a battered girl standing perfectly still, her spiritual power shining around her body in the shape of a fanged cat.
It only took a moment to see that Yachiru Kusajishi was holding back the entire army of Hollows singlehandedly…and that the effort required meant she could not move.
Hanatarō's eyes scanned across the field, noting that three Soul Reapers from Squad Six were still fighting, distracting their enemy from Yachiru, but where was the enemy?
Hanatarō sucked in a deep breath as his vision went entirely black, as if he'd been struck blind. It only lasted a moment, and then there were two Soul Reapers below. He turned his head on instinct, trying to find the Arrancar Obliquerro, and his vision disappeared entirely once more.
"Don't look at the enemy!" Hanatarō ordered through gritted teeth, his sweating palms clenched tight into fists. He turned his gaze to the ground, and he could see once more. "The smallest glance will blind you entirely, until he is no longer in range of your vision! All teams, split up and retrieve as many injured Soul Reapers from the battlefield as possible, and bring them to safety! Teams who previously brought the injured to Captain Unohana's base camp should be rejoining us shortly."
His medic teams flash stepped away, to save as many of the injured as possible without attracting the attention of Obliquerro. Except for his next in command, Hoshi Suzuki. She looked at him sidelong through the long bangs of her dark red hair. "We have our orders," she reminded him, her normally brusque voice tight with fear. "The Arrancar can rip spiritual pressure out of Soul Reapers – the captains will be here soon. Lieutenant Kusajishi can take care of herself."
Preliminary reports had said Obliquerro could defeat enemies with a single touch.
But he hadn't used his spiritual pressure stealing attack on Yachiru, or she wouldn't be able to stay conscious, much less keep the garganta mostly closed through sheer power alone.
Implying…that the technique was only usable on those with less raw power than the average lieutenant. Or, a little voice said in the back of his mind, perhaps a third seat…
As he watched, his vision blacked out once more, and then there was only one Soul Reaper standing between Yachiru Kusajishi and the Arrancar trying to destroy their world.
It took a long moment for Hanatarō Yamada to find the capability to speak at all through the horrible lump in his throat, and the dryness in his mouth. His tone was terribly quiet anyways, shaking with bone numbing fear. "See to the two Soul Reapers just defeated by Obliquerro," the timid boy said, knowing that despite his cracked voice, he was the officer in command. "They will no doubt be suffering from severe loss of spiritual pressure, in the least. I'm going to try to heal Yachiru's wounds before Obliquerro defeats the final Soul Reaper. If she can just last ten minutes…"
Ten minutes seemed like an awfully long time just then.
Hoshi nodded at his side, accepting his orders without question, disappearing in a flash.
Hanatarō Yamada swallowed, icy cold terror running freely through his veins, and flash stepped towards the largest garganta he'd ever seen in his life, and the beautiful girl standing beneath it in a corona of pink fire.
He was lucky – Obliquerro didn't notice him, just like most people, and the third seat was able to get to Yachiru's side in no time flat. "Lieutenant Kusajishi!" the bland boy gasped, the warm glow of healing already spilling from his fingertips. "Please, try to hold on!"
Yachiru's dark magenta eyes snapped open. She blinked, clearly surprised to see him. "Scaredy cat!" she blurted out in recognition. Hanatarō winced, healing the shattered bone of her left arm. Blood hissed and dissolved under the light, as chips of bone made their way back under her muscles, and her broken flesh knitted back together under his expert touch.
"I-It's Hanatarō, actually," he mumbled, keeping his gaze steadfastly on her arm while an infuriating blush spread warmth over his cheeks.
"Look out!" Yachiru shouted, shoving him to the side with her newly healed left arm, swinging her zanpakutō with her right to intercept a sweeping blade. Hanatarō skidded across the ground, automatically focusing on Yachiru-
He looked away hurriedly, restoring his vision, terror making his blood run cold. Obliquerro. The mysterious Arrancar, whose appearance was forever shrouded in mystery. The last member of Squad Six's team lay gasping on the ground, his skin oddly shriveled from having his spiritual pressure ripped out.
"Don't worry!" Yachiru shouted, her beautiful eyes closed tight, as she countered and parried her opponent's blade by sound and instinct alone…though she couldn't move. "If I die, I'll force every last bit of my spiritual pressure into closing this garganta, for good! This spot is where the barrier between Hueco Mundo and the Soul Society is weakest – he can't open such a huge garganta anywhere else. So he can't kill me without ruining his plans forever!"
"True," Obliquerro noted dispassionately, his voice oddly smooth and melodic for such a terrifying monster. His footsteps crunched on the shattered remains of a blade, as he stood just out of range of Yachiru's sword. He seemed oddly relaxed, despite the carnage he'd wrought. "I'm surprised you were able to deduce such a thing. I certainly never explained that detail to you."
"He's been testing," Yachiru explained, her cute nose scrunched up in distaste. "That's why we've been running into large groups of Hollows lately – he's been trying to find the weakest points between our worlds. But even though he wants to eat the souls of the captains to increase his own strength, he isn't strong enough to fight them head on, even if he does work for a Vasto Lorde! This weakling planned to let an army of Hollows weaken the Thirteen Court Guard Squads first!" She sounded indignant, as though his cowardice and unwillingness to fight his own battles was somehow worse than trying to destroy the world.
"Right again," Obliquerro said, with an undertone of menace. "But this isn't for the benefit of Nochtis. By eating the massive spiritual pressure of dead captains, my strength will finally surpass Nochtis himself – and then I would be the ruler of the Soul Society with a civilization of cattle for my consumption, I would rank among the ten strongest in Hueco Mundo…and all that stands in my way…is you!"
Hanatarō could only stare with horror, as blindness struck him like a shroud and Yachiru shrieked with pain. Obliquerro backed away, and he could see Yachiru's left leg was broken at an odd angle. She was breathing heavily, sweat glistening on her skin, but her spiritual pressure never stopped compressing the garganta.
"You see," Obliquerro mused, as Yachiru shrieked again, her left arm rebreaking painfully with a sharp crack, "while I can't kill you, without risking your dying strength closing the garganta in this prime location for good…if you lose your concentration, even for a second, the gate will open fully. Do you know how many Hollows I've gathered for this attack? Hundreds of thousands. More will follow, drawn by the scent of carnage. Your society won't have a prayer."
Obliquerro caught her wrist in a painfully tight grasp, lifting her sword away. She shivered as his cold breath misted on her cheek as he leaned in close, though determination shone on her angelic face, her eyes shut tight. "When you do lose concentration, I'll kill you," Obliquerro promised, empathizing his words with the crack of her snapping wrist. She gritted her teeth, her pink spiritual pressure flowing from her body undeterred. Obliquerro continued. "I've been planning this for decades, but in all that time, I haven't eaten a Soul Reaper. You may be too strong for my abilities to rip out your power, but that won't stop me from consuming your soul once you've died…"
Hanatarō threw his reed sandal in the direction of Obliquerro's voice. He heard the smack of impact, as it struck the shrouded Arrancar's head.
He struggled to stay on his feet as a terrible surge of frigid killing intent threatened to crush him where he stood. Hanatarō stood tall, his sword held tightly in front of him, too terrified to actually move, much less fight. "Back away from her," he squeaked, his voice cracking three times.
How long had it been? The captains should be here soon…if he could only stall for five minutes!
"You foolhardy boy," Obliquerro seethed pityingly.
Enormous force hit Hanatarō right in the stomach. Rational thought fled through the sharp pain, wind howling around his ears as he flew backwards from the blow. Hanatarō's back slammed against a large boulder, cracking the surface. He coughed harshly, and the movement was the only thing which saved his life, as the shard of a shattered blade pierced the stone where his forehead had been.
"Scaredy cat!"
He could barely think, every limb tingling with bone shattering pain. He raised his eyes to Yachiru, his vision blurry. Her beautiful eyes were tight with worry, the echoes of her shout bouncing off the cliffs.
And then he could see her no longer, as Obliquerro's power blinded his gaze in an eternal shroud of midnight.
Hanatarō didn't think, sprinting towards Yachiru with a cry. He threw himself forward blindly, hitting the Arrancar around the waist in a full body tackle. A contemptuous flick of his wrist was enough to send the weak boy flying once more, but Hanatarō stood, terrified and sure he was about to die.
Obliquerro sounded annoyed. "The others attacked me too," he admitted, a deep baritone reverberating under his words, as if a beast were speaking simultaneously with his almost human mouth. The strange sound vanished with his next words, as the Arrancar regained control of his temper. "Knowing they would die, knowing they could not win, each one attacked me blindly, all to prevent me from destroying this girl. You humans…I'll never understand you, truly."
"Stay away from her!" Hanatarō howled, fury blazing in his eyes, slashing blindly towards the side when his eyes went dark. He missed, and Obliquerro's hand closed around his throat, lifting him as if he weighed nothing at all. Hanatarō struggled, closing his eyes since he could not see anyways.
A strange, sucking sensation issued from Obliquerro's hand, as if he controlled the vacuum of space. It hurt, but Hanatarō's spiritual power was just strong enough that Obliquerro could not simply rip it from his body! Lucky him? He gaped emptily like a fish out of water, his face turning purple.
"You'd die for this girl?"
He sounded genuinely curious. Hanatarō's blade slashed forward, and the pressure around his neck disappeared as his enemy stepped back.
Fighting had never been Hanatarō's strong suit.
His sweating hands and shaking knees were a testament to that. He wanted to run. He wanted to run screaming, and never look back again. He wanted it more than anything else, but there was something more important than his own life…and more important than a pretty girl.
He would never take to the battlefield, except as a very last resort. But there was exactly one strategy even he could use.
"Of course you don't understand!" he retorted, grasping his blade tightly. "A monster like you could never understand…the pride of a Soul Reaper!"
He rushed forward, hoping this wouldn't hurt quite as much as the training he'd done to master this technique with Captain Unohana…
Obliquerro didn't pause, his blade stabbing a hole directly through Hanatarō's stomach. The sword burst out his back, spraying blood like a fountain.
Hanatarō's Kidō struck Obliquerro in the chest, shooting himself backwards, free of the blade, but he didn't have time to heal. He raised his sword, some instinct warning him before Obliquerro's blade struck his head. Steel clashed with steel, sparks hissing from the impact of the sharp edges. "She can't die!" Hanatarō howled, his surge of emotion lending strength to his muscles, though he strained with the effort of holding back his enemy. "I could never let her die!"
Crimson bloomed on his leg as a slash tore through fabric and muscle alike, and an instinctive flash step was the only thing which prevented the blade from cutting off his leg entirely, but he wasn't done. "Because for all her dark reputation," Hanatarō said, gritting his teeth through the pain, though tears stung at the corners of his eyes, blocking one blow and being cut by the next, "and for all her violence-!"
A backhanded slap hit his ribcage contemptuously, and bones broke. Hanatarō kept standing, fire burning in his soul, his desperate words continuing strong. "And despite…being the heir to the Kenpachi name!"
Obliquerro's kick struck his wounded stomach, and the medic's eyes blacked out momentarily for reasons other than Obliquerro's terrible power. It seemed the mysterious Arrancar had claws.
Pain lent his voice strength, and his next words were a howl. "Yachiru Kusajishi always brings her troops back alive!"
He held his sword oddly, protecting his throat from a mortal blow he thought might be coming, but Obliquerro merely struck with his leg, and Hanatarō's arm fell limply to his side.
It didn't matter. "Yachiru is the strength Squad Eleven relies on!" Hanatarō gasped, his voice thick with pain. Almost there. He was…almost-! "Kenpachi is strong, but he doesn't look out for his troops like she does. Without her, we would have lost so many more of our precious soldiers!"
He was barely standing. Hanatarō swayed dangerously, nearly falling over, and knew he was out of time.
How long had it been, since he'd started distracting the Arrancar?
A minute? An hour…?
How long until the captains arrived?
Blood trickled from the corners of his mouth, and Hanatarō cast a last look at Yachiru. She was staring at him like she'd never seen him before, true fear and panic written into her beautiful face. Pink power flared and pulsed around her, as beautiful and deadly as the girl it belonged to, wreathing the horizon long garganta in flames. The corner of his mouth quirked up halfheartedly.
So this was it.
Sorry, captain.
Hanatarō raised his sword with his one good hand, unable to open one of his eyes all the way. The darkness struck, and he knew his enemy was right in front of him, and that this blow would be the last.
I know I promised…I wouldn't use this technique!
But what choice did he have?
Obliquerro dashed towards him with inhuman speed, intent on killing him and breaking Yachiru's bones until her concentration wavered, leaving him free to unleash his army of Hollows on the world. Hanatarō raised his zanpakutō-
And turned the blade, piercing his own stomach with all his power.
His rough cry of pain was completely involuntary, as he threw his head back with agony. "Fill," he gasped, tears breaking free from the corners of his drab blue eyes, their clear tracks cutting through the blood spattering his cheek, "Hisagomaru!"
Red light flared like a newborn sun from the gauge set in the blade of his sword. Crimson smoke poured from Hanatarō's many wounds and streamed like water into the gauge, closing the slashes and healing bones in its wake, until his zanpakutō itself shone with scarlet.
The accumulated damage from his own wounds filled his blade with screaming power, and Hanatarō's own desperate shout was just loud enough to be heard over the roar of spiritual strength. "Go!" the Third Seat of Squad Four shouted, pointing the tip of his zanpakutō straight ahead into the darkness. The blade shrunk, gleaming silver as his shikai activated automatically, morphing into a gleaming scalpel. "Akeiro Hisagomaru!" Hanatarō howled, unleashing all the power his blade possessed in a deadly scythe of purest white into the void where his vision should have been.
The darkness shattered, as if made of glass, revealing for a brief moment the stunned face of the horned Arrancar, as the gleaming white scythe struck his chest with an explosion of power, and tore through the Arrancar's ribcage. Obliquerro stared with void-like eyes, as if unable to fathom that the weak boy he'd faced was capable of inflicting real damage. He fell, the tattered edges of his white robe fluttering weakly in the wind, and didn't get up again.
The healer stood, staring at his fallen opponent. "Medics like me are a dime a dozen," he said quietly, his voice weak with pain, but even toned with resolve. "But Yachiru Kusajishi is irreplaceable."
Hanatarō fell to his knees, breathing hard, his body convulsing with shuddering relief. He raised his shaking hand to his nose, and it came away red with blood. "You were right…captain," he said softly, the ground seeming to sway beneath him. "Healing so much damage in one go…uses up too much of my body's reserves…I shouldn't…fight like this…but-!"
Thousands of Hollows howled in rage and frustration as one.
With Obliquerro's defeat, the garganta shuddered, snapping closed, until the crack in reality was gone. Yachiru's spiritual pressure hung in the air for a moment, dissipating all at once as the resistance of the garganta vanished. She swayed and fell with a groan, hitting the ground hard.
"Y-Yachiru!" Hanatarō called out, nearly collapsing as he took a shuddering step forward. He made it to her side, verdant light already gathering around his shaking hands. He poured warm energy into her wounds, though he barely had any to spare.
The damage was worse than he'd been expecting, but she'd never lost concentration, not even once. "You're amazing," he said honestly, wishing he didn't look quite so beat up and lame. He was certain Ichigo would still look cool after such a tough battle, but Hanatarō probably resembled a bruised human potato.
Tears slipped down his cheeks, falling on her forehead like rain, and she stared at him with open shock. "I'm glad," he explained, his voice cracking, his muscles going weak with fatigue as his adrenaline wore off. "You're alive. I'm so glad. I'll get you healed up in…no…time…"
His words died off. He fell to the side, the last of his power used up trying to heal Yachiru, unable to summon even the energy to break his fall.
His heartbeat echoed in his ears, and the last thing Hanatarō saw was the shadow of a fearsome man standing over them both, watching him with baleful eyes. And then, nothing.
~o~
Birds sang in an endless blue sky above the clinic of Squad Four. A pair of pretty medics chatted while they walked, their baskets of healing herbs filling the warm spring air with the bitter tang of medicine. Laughter echoed from down the street, and it seemed no one had any worries in the world.
Three days had passed since the battle against Obliquerro, and the Soul Society continued warmly on as always, as if the battle for their world had never occurred, and the next weren't somewhere on the distant horizon. The people of the Soul Society had long learned to treat every day as a blessing, knowing shadows could strike at any time.
Yachiru paced, her cute lips pursed together worriedly. She let out a deep sigh. Her own wounds had long since healed, thanks to the incredible power wielded by Captain Unohana, but she stayed in front of the Squad Four clinic anyways. She brushed back her candy pink hair, lost in her own thoughts.
"Hey! Yachiru!" Rikichi called out, jogging up to her side with a bright smile, his own traumatic battle forgotten. He touched the hilt of his zanpakutō. "Do you wanna spar? I'd love to learn a thing or two from you!" the ashen haired boy said hopefully.
"No thanks," Yachiru said, not looking away from the windows of the clinic. She sighed again, deeper this time.
Rin, the researcher, piped up from Rikichi's side, a flush already on his cheeks. "I feel so terrible for sending you into that fight," he confessed, looking at the ground. "I made some molten lava cakes, if you wanted to share them with me…"
Yachiru looked at him at last, her tone honest. "Sorry, but I'm not hungry right now," the beautiful girl confessed. "Don't feel bad either! It would've been a lot worse if the stealth squad had gone without me! He planned his move well – it took ages for the other lieutenants and captains to be available." She pouted at the walls of the building, her attention turning away again. "I wonder when they're gonna let Hanatarō out?" she wondered, her tone worried.
The two boys exchanged defeated looks. Neither of them had ever heard Yachiru Kusajishi use someone's real name, without some kind of honorific. They had lost.
Both boys froze with horrified surprise as Kenpachi Zaraki strode between them, not even sparing the two a single glance. And for the very first time, Kenpachi stepped onto the broad wooden porch encircling the Squad Four clinic of his own free will.
"Where's the brat?" the fearsome man demanded, crossing his thick muscled arms, addressing the woman sitting calmly in his shadow.
Unohana smiled sweetly at the battle scarred Captain of Squad Eleven from her chair, her hands folded serenely in her lap. "I certainly hope you aren't here to cause trouble with my patient," the soft voiced healer said simply, the picture of calm. "He needs his rest."
Kenpachi glared with annoyance at the smiling woman. "Is that so? If you plan to defend him maybe I'll try to kill the boy after all. After all, it's been decades since my first real fight." The air crackled with Kenpachi's surge of anticipation, and many of the bystanders decided they had better things to do, which were coincidentally in the opposite direction. The happy warbling of the birds cut out abruptly.
Captain Unohana was unfazed, her sweet smile never wavering. "Is that all you want in a woman?" she asked. "An eternal sparring partner?"
Kenpachi Zaraki stared at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "I wouldn't waste my time kicking an injured and pathetic little puppy," he said at last, striding past her without a second glance. "…you have nothing to worry about."
~o~
Hanatarō Yamada lay in bed for a long time after he first regained consciousness, his eyes tightly shut. His wounds were not terrible, thanks to the healing power of his zanpakutō, but the power drain from using so much of his energy was not so easily fixed. He'd slept for days, and still felt tired.
Still, he was alive. He should probably be grateful. Judging by the soft covers and the smell of sandalwood, he was back home, and out of danger.
Hanatarō opened his eyes finally, and saw Kenpachi Zaraki glaring at him silently from the chair next to his bed, and screamed so loud birds flew from the rooftops.
His extremely girly scream lasted a long time, and he flung the covers over his head, blocking Kenpachi from view. His heart thundered in his chest, but after the shock faded, he started to calm down just a little. Sure, Kenpachi was the single most terrifying being on the planet, but even he wouldn't cause trouble in the barracks, surely!
Hanatarō peered out from the cover, and sat up with a great effort, trying not to let his voice shake too badly. "C-Captain!" he stammered, pretending his instinctive scream hadn't happened. "What-what is it you want? Is something on your mind?"
Kenpachi glared at him for a long time, his craggy features so still they could have been carved from stone. Hanatarō's heart rate started to accelerate as the silence dragged on. He tried to gulp, but his mouth was too dry. Kenpachi spoke, finally.
"I was just thinking how easy it would be to snap your tiny bones between two of my fingers," the fearsome man said, no hint of remorse or humor in his deep baritone voice.
Hanatarō's heart literally stopped with fear for a long moment, the blood draining from his face so quickly he looked like a ghost, no sound issuing from his gaping mouth.
Kenpachi continued, frustration coloring his tone, not moving an inch. "You're pathetic," he accused, his eyes as dark as flint. "A loser. Scum."
Hanatarō could only stare, his blue eyes impossibly wide, as he sat frozen in fear, and Kenpachi Zaraki let out a long sigh.
"But when Yachiru was in trouble…you stepped up and fought, even when other Soul Reapers ran in terror," the captain admitted. He stood, and Hanatarō flinched at the movement, unable to even squeak through his fear. Kenpachi didn't acknowledge his pathetic response.
He spoke at last. "In that last battle, you showed true strength. And if you can patch her up when the battle is over, you might have a tiny amount of use after all. Now…let's test your resolve."
Hanatarō couldn't speak, but the voice in his head screamed incessantly as the captain's words registered. He was sure he was about to die of sheer terror then and there at the very thought of fighting Kenpachi Zaraki.
"Is there anything you want to ask me, scum?" Kenpachi said derisively, looking down at the terrified boy who looked near to passing out on spot.
Hanatarō looked up at the towering demon, his blue eyes impossibly huge.
It took a long moment to gather his courage, once he realized what the captain meant. His voice was nearly silent with terror, but he spoke. "W-would it be alright if I asked Yachiru-chan to dinner sometime?" Hanatarō managed, his heart so loud he was sure Kenpachi could hear it. "Just the two of us?" he added on hurriedly, remembering what happened to Tenzo.
Kenpachi stared at him silently, and turned to leave. "It isn't up to me anymore," he admitted, the floorboards creaking as he moved.
"Ask her yourself."
~o~