Author's note: Thanks to all my faithful readers. As a reward, here I present the nightmare about Kenpachi.

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach.

"Come and play with me, Booby-chan!" Yachiru called landing on her shoulders. Matsumoto sighed. She had almost finished brushing her hair, and the little pink menace had to come and completely ruin her hard work.

"Not now," she said.

"Now," Yachiru insisted.

"No," Matsumoto insisted.

"Yes," the girl growled, pulling on her hair.

"Ouch! Let go!" Matsumoto screamed.

"Play with me."

"No." Yachiru pulled again, harder. It hurt. Matsumoto was convinced that the little pink devil had to pull out a fistful of her hair.

"I'll play with you!" she shouted. She feared that refusal would mean that she'd end up as bald as Ikkaku. Thinking of whom, why was he bald? She shuddered, deciding that she shouldn't dwell on the subject any longer. It gave her too many scary mental images.

"Yay!" the girl squealed. "Let's go!" Matsumoto obediently began walking. As she walked through the 11th Division courtyard, everybody stared. If it was because of the position she found herself in, or because she was the only grown-up woman there, didn't matter. It was more staring than she could bear, and her tolerance was very high.

"Faster!" her passenger commanded. Matsumoto sped up obligingly. She wanted to be away from the staring guys. If she lingered too long, she might even run into Captain Zaraki and he'd want to have a spar with her. And Matsumoto hated that. She was always sore and covered in unsightly bruises afterwards, if she didn't outright end up in the care of the Fourth Division, another experience she could do without. "Faster!" the little girl demanded. Matsumoto sped up again. "Faster!" Yachiru repeated the command until Matsumoto couldn't go any faster. Then she proceeded to give her directions. They ran around the whole of Seireitei before the pinkette got tired and allowed her to return to the Eleventh. There Matsumoto dropped her burden and tried to get into her room before anyone could notice her looking sweaty, dirty, hair in a mess and completely exhausted.

"You look a mess, Matsumoto-fukutaichou. You'll have to take better care of yourself if you want to look as beautiful as I." Oh no. Somebody did see her. And it had to be the person she wanted to see the least. Well, except Kenpachi.

"I'm not in the mood today, Ayasegawa," she snapped. "That little pink monster made me run around Seireitei and nearly pulled out all my hair. I'm looking for any excuse to take my frustration out on someone."

"So you can't handle little Yachiru?" Madarame asked.

"You nearly ended up bald? That would be terrible," Yumichika said.

"Hey, what's wrong with being bald?" Ikkaku took offense.

"You mean beside it not being beautiful?" Matsumoto used the opportunity to slip away. She got almost to her quarters, when a sudden wave of reiatsu made her stop in her tracks. Oh no, she thought, He had just found her. She briefly considered running for it, but he was too fast for her.

"Here you are," Zaraki grinned, his bells jingling ominously. "I've been looking for a spar."

"But..." Rangiku wanted to say that she looked terrible and couldn't she take some time to comb her hair? And she was tired too. But Kenpachi didn't want to hear it. He wanted a fight and he won't be denied. He drew his rusty sword and charged at Matsumoto, a maniacal grin on his face. She barely managed to block. Her arms reeled from the impact. Haineko howled in her mind, complaining that at this rate, Zaraki was going to break her. Again. And Kenpachi was already attacking again. She sighed and attempted a counterattack (unsuccessfully). She was in for a world of pain and there wasn't a single thing she could do about it. She really hated the Eleventh Division.

End notes: Sorry, Kenpachi needed some help. Otherwise this would be one paragraph. And before you ask what was Yachiru doing there, can you imagine Zaraki without her?