Zaraki Kenpachi groaned, inwardly cursing the day that that damn Orihime Ryoka was ever born. This was exactly why he'd rather his vice-captain spend her leisure time training with the 11th division men than playing with other girls. Girls were sick, twisted creatures-- evil bitches who put awful ideas into impressionable young minds (such as Yachiru's), ideas that just wouldn't fucking go away.
"I want to play house!"
"No."
"Ken-chaaaaan!"
"You've asked to play it every fucking day this week and the answer is still no!" It was true, ever since he'd left her alone for a few hours with Orihime, a seemingly innocuous person, one who he had foolishly assumed was capable of supervising his little pink leech while he was busy kicking some fellow Gotei-13 ass, Yachiru has been obsessed with this house game.
"Pleeeee-"
"Order Ikkaku and Yumichika to play with you."
"But Taichou…" A distinctly unmanly noise that could easily have been mistaken for a whine emitted from his third seat across the room.
"Can we play dress up instead? I'm a lot better at that game. Suburbanite domestic life is just far too ugly, even pretend suburbanite domestic life." Yumichika shuddered at the though of a white picket fence, 2.5 children and a slobbery yellow lab.
"How about we play fuck-shit-up like we usually do?" Zaraki grinned. "Mayuri is still slug-ified, go put some salt on him Yachiru, see what happens."
"How about who can be quiet with their eyes closed the longest while laying down?" Ikkaku's words were emphasized with a yawn.
"Or princess! I like princess better than dress up!"
"Shut the fuck up, we're not playing that either!… EVER." (Zaraki had once in his death been utterly stupid enough to play princess with Yachiru and Yumichika. Why hadn't they told him mascara took days to fully wash off before slathering his eyes with the stuff? Stiff lashes made his eye patch most uncomfortable to wear. Though the red lipstick wasn't so bad, because it made his mouth look all bloody, at least with the way that Yachiru applied it).
"NO!" The shout from the little girl stopped the three men's tirades on the games that they would rather be playing, if indeed they had to play at all.
"No," she repeated. "I want to play house. All four of us!"
Kenpachi debated whether it was time for one of those I'm your father-like-person-thing and as such you need to respect my authority when I say "no" speeches, or if he should just throw the paper weight from his desk at her head, hopefully rendering her unconscious for a few hours. Fortunately for Yachiru, her talking interrupted the debate within.
"Ken-chan, you get to be the daddy and Weirdo you get to be the mommy. Of course I'm the baby-"
Indignantly Ikkaku interjected: "Who am I then?" Not that he wanted to play, not in the slightest bit, but still, he did not appreciate being slighted as such.
"Silly Baldy, you're the milkman!"
All three men looked at the girl, rather confused at this assigned role. "The milkman?" The chorus questioned.
Her words were, "of course!" though her tone was no duh.
"Why the… milkman?"
"Because everyone knows what mommies do with the milkman when daddy isn't around to find out!"