Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over 'Bleach' nor am I profiting from this.
Thank you so much, everyone, for being such dear readers, subscribers, and people. I have undergone an extremely emotional, mental, and physical rollercoaster and completing this story feels like such a huge accomplishment.
Hanataro's cooking overrides his vile medicinal concoctions. Kenpachi gives his spoon one final swirl, checking for anything that could be medications disguised as food. Eating vegetables can't make him feel any worse than he already does. Besides, it gives him some strength for the next time Yachiru wants to argue.
"How does it taste?" Hanataro prompts. "Yachiru ordered seconds while having bread as a side."
He couldn't argue with her. Hanataro's soup has cooled enough to prevent scalding his mouth, but it's still warm.
Kenpachi's cooking skills lean more toward simplicity. Tessai's cooking could tide them over for a week sometimes. Takeout food is reserved for splurging or fucked up weeks. Sandwiches with canned soup made decent dinners from his perspective. Yachiru never complained, especially when he added usually wilting vegetables or browning fruits.
"I can't name anything in here," he warns. "You're almost up there with Tessai's cooking level. What did you do?"
He shrugs. "I cook for two roommates and a piglet. Orihime would live on her disgusting food combinations without intervention while Ganju excludes pork from his diet. I haven't conquered the elusive cooking for picky eaters skill yet, though."
Kenpachi grunts, an invitation for Hanataro to continue while he finishes eating. Hanataro might as well be speaking another language, or have dumped him into a critically acclaimed restaurant.
First, he discloses coupon deals. Then come the grocery store secrets: where grocers keep their best produce, where butchers keep their best meat, and how to haggle without becoming aggressive. Hanataro rattles off recipes without offering to write them down or asking whether he has any interest beyond hearing them. Somewhere between his advice on how to avoid crying while chopping onions, he refills the bowl and makes an offer.
"I'll go shopping right now," he declares. "You deserve something between allowing a stranger to invade the apartment, raid cabinets, and use the kitchen."
Coupons are probably clipped or on his phone for whatever special he wants. Hanataro will know the cashier by their first name and have a lengthy genuine conversation with them. Grocery shopping is something delightful rather than a tedious necessity. Kenpachi objects and even demands that he sit down and eat something.
It goes ignored. Hanataro makes a vague promise to return within an hour and somehow manages to close the door without a squeak or whine.
Kenpachi tugs his chair back into place with his foot, glancing around the now empty kitchen. "I'll be here?"
Somewhere between blaring commercials and congested snoring, Yachiru raises his arm to crawl underneath it. Bonnie circles several times, pressing her snout into the carpet before she finally settles.
He dreams about coupon deals, specifically irate customers demanding to see a manager for their expired coupons. Every cashier has their hair pulled into a low ponytail, their customer service smiles weak from extensive arguing. The cashier on register six requests their break along with every other cashier as someone claiming to be manager comes crashing through on a boar.
Whoever the manager is, is bringing along colossal sand waves, which promise to crush every single person lingering around. Yachiru wakes him mere moments before the wave crushes him. Her sneeze echoes through the apartment, accompanied with a sniffle and exaggerated blow.
"Don't blame me for sharing germs," he warns. "You're the one that insists on snuggling."
Yachiru sniffles again and rubs her nose against the couch arm. "Mister Hana would help us. I think he enjoys helping people."
Hanataro would apologize to pedestrians for the light changing too soon. Were there an apocalypse, he would be the one gathering survivors and insisting that working together is the solution. He would be concerned upon realizing everyone would much rather focus on murdering.
"Yeah, he enjoys caring for other people," he agrees. "Hanataro chose to become a teacher for that reason. Go use the tissues rather than the furniture. I'd rather scrub vomit than dry boogers."
"Everyone thinks its boogers," she sing-songs. "But its snot."
Its an exhausted gross joke, but he still gives her the dry laugh and hair tussle shes come to expect.
Whatever renewed energy lunch and sleep delivered, it dissolves between cartoons. Yachiru alternates between snoring and sneezing, usually into his face. Kenpachi gives up on dodging and forces his neck to take the disgusting blows as he drifts over cartoon voices and the door creaking open. Her brave immune system won't match up against his illness, especially when she insists on rolling around the germ infested apartment and snuggling with him.
Hanataros iron-clad immune system surely won't be able to stand up against them. Yachiru gives a final sneeze and burrows into his shoulder, managing to avoid the drying snot.
"Look, I never learned anything on addressing feelings, kid," he warns. "I could either drink, fight, or fuck the feelings away. You're better than the other little monsters. You deserve better than growing into a drinking, fighting, and fucking mess. I shove books and toys under my bed and call that cleaning. Our dinner is sometimes takeout but I make you eat some fruit or vegetables with it and just water to drink. I am going to make you learn how to read even if you hate me."
Drinking, fighting, and fucking is no longer an option. Instead, he has someone helping him along, now stumbling through the door with his arms weighed down by groceries.
His tone remains chipper. "I'm sorry for making you guys wait so long. A new cashier was working and couldn't figure a problem with the register. I wound up helping until a veteran cashier could show up. How are you feeling?"
"I have snot on my neck and Yachiru's probably caught whatever this is. I'm getting better though."