Tito Kubo owns Bleach, the characters and the copyright. I have respectfully borrowed them for this story. I do, however, own my own characters and ideas.
Misaki walked into the house. It was quiet inside. She walked along the hallway to the bathroom. She was still buzzing from the strange golden warmth Zaraki had triggered inside her. It was a feeling she could get used to.
"You're wasting time, Kisuke. We have the place to ourselves. Let's take advantage of it." Yoruichi said in a soft, teasing voice from the kitchen. Misaki's eyes widened. She didn't want to disturb them. Urahara's voice rang out, growing closer. Misaki backed into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.
"I'm worried about Misaki." she heard him say. Misaki leaned against the door, sighing sadly. While she didn't want him worrying about her, it was oddly comforting that he cared enough to worry.
"She's having fun. I think she likes Captain Zaraki." Yoruichi said as they passed the bathroom.
"I know. That's what worries me." Urahara said sharply. Misaki frowned. She wasn't intentionally eavesdropping but their voices were carrying in the still house. Why was he worried about her attraction to Zaraki, she wondered.
"Stop it, Kisuke. He's not so bad." Yoruichi said softly, her voice close to the door as if they had stopped in the hallway near the bathroom.
"Oh, you mean besides being an insanely blood-thirsty war monger?" Urahara whispered, his voice barely audible as if it were muffled by something.
"Haven't you noticed though? He's different around Misaki. He's softer. She has the same effect on him that Yachiru does." Yoruichi's voice grew even lower. Her words were punctuated by a low sighs. Misaki grimaced. It was such an intimate sound. She wanted to get away from the uncomfortable situation but she was trapped.
"Maybe but why is he even here? He and Yamamoto are up to something. I don't want them using Misaki as some sort of weapon in their fight against Aizen. I want to keep her out of this war." Urahara whispered, his voice becoming low and breathy. Misaki closed her eyes. His words troubled her even more than the situation she found herself in.
"Misaki's drifting along like a ship without an anchor, Yoruichi. I'm worried that she'll latch onto the wrong thing." he whispered.
"Okay, that's enough talking about Misaki...that's enough talking period. There are better things you could be doing with your mouth right now." she heard Yoruichi practically growl. Then the bang of a door slamming at the end hall sounded. Silence followed. Misaki rested her head against the bathroom door. He was suspicious of Zaraki's intentions. She sighed. Didn't it just figure? She finally met someone she liked that she could actually get close to. As if it wasn't bad enough that he wasn't even human, now she was left to wonder if he was just getting close to her for some reason other than herself. Urahara's words lingered with her. She didn't have enough experience with the opposite sex to be able to trust herself.
"Dammit." she whispered. What use could she possibly be to anyone during a war, she wondered. Surely Urahara was confused. A screech of pain followed by the wail of a child crying cut through the quiet house. Misaki listened curiously as the sound of the screaming child grew very close, very fast. A loud banging on the door made her jump in surprise.
"You about done in there?" Zaraki's rough voice called out over the sound of Yachiru's pitiful wails. Misaki jerked the door open. Zaraki was standing right outside, holding Yachiru in his arms. The front of her pink and white dress was wet and stained with red. She was crying pitifully, with her head on Zaraki's shoulder. His face was grim and set.
"What happened?" Misaki cried out, automatically reaching out for Yachiru as the child lunged forward towards her. Zaraki surrendered her to Misaki as he explained,
"The red-headed kid and Yachiru got in a fight about something. He tossed his cup of fruit punch at her. Ruined her dress."
"My...princess...dress..." Yachiru sobbed, holding the front of the soiled garment out tenderly.
"It's fine." Misaki reassured her, setting her on the floor. "We just need to wash it."
"Huh?" Yachiru sniffled, her tears fading quickly as Misaki pulled the dress over head. "You can wash it out?"
"Oh yeah." Misaki said calmly, rinsing the dress out in the sink. "I spilled an entire grape juice box on it when I was about eleven. Then I hid it under my bed for a week because I didn't want Dad to throw it out. He just washed it and the stain was gone. If that didn't ruin it, fruit punch doesn't stand a chance."
"Really?" Yachiru whispered hopefully as she peered over the edge of the sink to watch her rinse out the small dress. Zaraki leaned against the door, watching the two of them with a faint grin on his face.
"Oh, yeah. Don't worry about dirt or stains. This fabric's very forgiving." Misaki said quietly, wringing out the dress. "So what were you and Jinta fighting about?"
"He called me weak." Yachiru complained in a low, angry voice. "He said all girls were weak and useless."
"He said what?" Misaki snapped, looking over at her sharply. "What did you say to him?"
"I told him that I'd show him weak and punched him in the head. He screamed like a baby and threw his punch on me." Yachiru said vehemently. Misaki laughed, hanging the princess dress up to dry on a rack by the window.
"I'm sorry about your dress but I'm glad you stood up for yourself." she said with a smile.
"Yeah, she kicked him in the head after he messed up her dress too." Zaraki added, smiling proudly.
"I bet he won't be calling you weak anymore." Misaki laughed.
"You gotta clean up now, brat. Then bedtime." Zaraki said, stepping fully into the room.
"Aww!" Yachiru complained. "I don't wanna go to bed, Ken-chan."
"Maybe, but you need to. You get grouchy when you don't get enough sleep." Zaraki reasoned.
"Let me go find you something to sleep in, Yachiru." Misaki said with a smile. She left the two of them arguing over bedtime. She went into her bedroom and grabbed a clean t-shirt from the top drawer. When she returned to the bathroom with the cotton shirt, Zaraki was leaning against the wall near the door while Yachiru splashed happily in the tub nearby.
"I think this will work." Misaki said to him, holding up the t-shirt. He nodded, paying little attention to the shirt. His eyes were on her instead. He caught her by the hand and eased her closer. Misaki's eyes widened as he gently stroked her cheek.
"She'll be happy as long as it's yours. She likes you." he said quietly, his hand slipping from her cheek to her shoulder. As he spoke, he ran his fingers under the strap of her sundress.
"I like her, too. She's really sweet." Misaki whispered, chills running down her spine from his light touch. He grinned as he shook his head.
"You just ain't seen the bad side of her yet. She's not an easy child." he replied easily. It seemed like he had inched closer to her. Misaki felt strange. Wonderful but strange. She had never been this close to a man before. Her head felt light. Her ears were buzzing slightly. Her breathing was coming faster and her heart was racing. All because of him. She knew that she should speak but the words wouldn't come. Her brain had shut down. All that she could see, hear and feel was Zaraki.
"You okay?" he asked softly, his fingers moving down her bare arm in a slow, sensual way. Misaki nodded her head numbly, unable to tear her gaze from his. "I was kinda worried about you up on the roof. You didn't look right after Orihime hugged you. You looked like something was wrong."
"We were talking about the funeral." Misaki whispered, lifting her hand and lightly touching his chest. Her move seemed to be a signal to him as he leaned his elbow against the wall near her head, letting his body move even closer to hers. The breath caught in her throat when he brushed the hair back from her face gently.
"She ain't gonna be there, right?" he asked. Misaki nodded her head, looking away from him. She couldn't think straight when he was this close to her, she thought frantically.
"I think she feels bad about it." Misaki admitted.
"Well, it's not like you're gonna be alone." Zaraki reminded her. She looked up, meeting his one-eyed gaze again.
"Kenpachi..." she whispered hesitantly, running her fingers lightly over his jacket collar.
"What is it, sugar?" he asked softly.
"Will you be there tomorrow?" she asked nervously. She wanted him to be but was afraid to ask.
"Tomorrow?" he questioned.
"The funeral. Please...I hate to impose but Orihime won't be there. And Urahara's great but I feel really comfortable with you and I know it's going to be hard and..." she stammered, her eyes on his collar as she twisted it anxiously in her hand.
"I'll be there. Don't worry." he reassured her, catching her hand in his and squeezing it tightly.
"Thank you." she whispered, looking back up at him. He smiled down at her.
"Misa, you..." he started softly. His words were silenced by the sound of someone clearing their throat nearby. Zaraki stiffened but didn't move away. Urahara's voice floated up the hallway as he said,
"Captain Zaraki, could I speak with you...in private?"
"Sure." Zaraki said reluctantly as he moved slowly away from Misaki. She noticed that his expression was hard and cold as he turned to face Urahara. The blonde man emerged slowly from the shadows at the end of the darkened hallway.
"Misa-chan!" Yachiru called out. "I'm all done."
"I'll go and get her out." Misaki suggested. Zaraki nodded as he said,
"Thanks, Misa."
She walked into the bathroom. Zaraki reached back, pulling the door closed. Yachiru looked up with a happy smile.
"Where's Ken-chan?" she asked, standing up in the tub. Misaki grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her.
"He's talking to Urahara." she said softly. She lifted Yachiru out of the tub and began drying her off. She could hear Urahara's voice carrying despite the closed door.
"It appears she can touch you without triggering her ability."
While Yachiru hummed a tune behind her and examined her princess dress, Misaki moved closer to the door, listening.
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Outside the door, Zaraki faced the man in the dim light. His trademark hat was gone but his confident smirk remained as Zaraki said,
"What ability?" he asked. "Is that why she doesn't like people to touch her?"
"She didn't tell you?" he said with a smile. "I'm surprised. She's been so forthcoming with everyone else."
"I guess it didn't come up." Zaraki snapped. He resented Urahara's implication that Misaki didn't trust him. "Why don't you tell me about it?"
"I think I'll leave that to Misaki. I'll not feed you any information about her for Yamamoto." Urahara said quietly.
"Whatcha talkin' about?" Zaraki asked innocently.
"I don't know what kind of game you're playing, Captain Zaraki." Urahara said coldly. "But I know that Commander Yamamoto sent you here for more than that business about the Garganta. It wasn't necessary to send anyone for that. He could have contacted me directly. No, it seems suspicious that you show up within a day of Misaki's seal breaking."
"What are you trying to say?" Zaraki asked with a crooked grin.
"I will not allow you or anyone else to hurt her. She's more than just a tool to be used by Yamamoto." Urahara warned him quietly.
"Whaddya think the old man wants to use her to do?" he asked curiously.
"I have my suspicions. If he didn't share them with you, it's hardly my place to enlighten you. But know this...I will kill you before I let you hurt her. She could not be dearer to me if she were my own child. I will protect her with my very life. Surely, you can understand how I feel better than most." Urahara said quietly. Zaraki glanced at the closed bathroom door before him. He could hear Yachiru humming on the other side. He did understand.
"I ain't gonna hurt her." he snapped coldly.
"Good. Still, I think it would be best if you returned to the Soul Society in the morning. Misaki's becoming attached to you. It's not a good thing." Urahara said, his tone light and breezy again.
"I ain't leaving tomorrow. I promised her that I'd go to that funeral. I'm not breaking my word." Zaraki stated flatly. "I'll go back after."
"I can accept that...just don't lead her on, Captain. She's young and easily led, I fear. Goodnight, Captain Zaraki." Urahara said quietly, fading back into the blackness at the end of the hall. Zaraki clutched the doorknob tightly. He knew the man was right but he didn't want to leave. He didn't want to leave her, he thought darkly. Frustrated, he jerked the door open. Misaki stumbled back from the door, a towel clutched tightly in her hands. Guilt marred her pretty face as she stared at him. She had been listening, he realized darkly. Who knew what she would make of the conversation.
"I should go..." she said quickly, dropping her eyes down nervously. "You'll want to put Yachiru to bed."
Zaraki watched as she brushed past him, leaving him and Yachiru alone in the room. He rubbed his eyes wearily as Yachiru asked,
"Where did Misa-chan go?"
"I don't know. Somewhere away from me. Come on, brat. It's bedtime." he growled, pulling the t-shirt over her damp head.
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Misaki returned to the roof. The party was in full swing now. The music was loud and the alcohol was flowing. She was feeling distracted by what she had heard. Urahara was obviously very concerned by Zaraki's interest in her. He was far more suspicious than she realized. It troubled her. She was attracted to Captain Zaraki, in a way she had never allowed herself to feel for any other man before. The attraction seemed mutual. She didn't want to believe that he was using her. And why would any of them want to use her anyway? It didn't make sense. She didn't see how she could be of use to anyone in a battle. If anything she would be a hindrance rather than a help.
All these thoughts ran through her clouded mind as she stood before the food table. Ikkaku walked up beside her, eying the food hungrily.
"You having a good time, Misaki?" he asked with a grin. She nodded. She had been having a good time before it all started to unravel.
"I guess so. It's just a little strange." she said with a sigh.
"I want you to have a good time...I mean, we wanna send Orihime and Rukia off in style. But it's also our way of saying goodbye to your father." Ikkaku commented, grabbing one of the rice balls from the table.
"Isn't that what the funeral's for?" she asked softly.
"Nah, the funeral's more for show...for paying your respects. This is the Division 11 way of saying goodbye." Ikkaku explained, taking a bite of a rice ball. He made a disgusted face, spitting the rice out into his hand as he complained,
"Is that rhubarb? Who the hell puts that in onigiri?"
"Orihime." Misaki replied with a grin.
"Man! That girl's cooking is just plain scary." he said with a shake of his head, depositing the remaining rice ball in the garbage.
"What did you mean by the Division 11 way of saying goodbye?" Misaki asked, following him. He grinned, his red tinted eyes crinkling.
"We don't mourn in Zaraki's Division...we remember." he said quietly. "We remember our friends, the fun and the fights. We honor them the same way we want to be remembered when it's our time."
"That's nice." she said softly, thinking of her father. Images of the good times they had shared flashed through her memory. Ikkaku bent down, retrieving two bottles of beer from the ice. He pressed one into her hand then clanked the necks together.
"To Hisashi Watanabe." he said loudly. "He must've been a helluva good man to raise such a great daughter."
Misaki stared at him in surprise. Slowly, a smile inched across her face.
"To Dad." she said, touching her bottle to his and taking a large swallow. Ikkaku downed half the bottle then flashed a satisfied grin. He winked at her as he walked away, drawn to the far side of the roof by a disparaging comment regarding his virility by Renji. A sudden loud, bravado-filled argument ensued between the two. Misaki noticed Ichigo sitting near them. She walked slowly over to him.
Ichigo was sitting on the high wall on side of the roof, watching Renji and Ikkaku argue about who's bankai was stronger. He grinned as Ikkaku told Renji that Zabimaru couldn't even make up it's mind about which animal spirit it wanted to be, let alone how to fight. Misaki sat down beside him, her eyes on the other two men. Ichigo glanced over at her, sitting upright abruptly.
"Do you think they'll end up fighting?" Misaki asked him quietly. Ichigo shook his head as he replied,
"Nah, they're just talking shit. Pretty soon they'll start ragging on somebody else entirely. With my luck, it'll probably be me."
"You all get along so well." Misaki noted. Ichigo shrugged.
"We've been through a lot together." he explained. Misaki's eyes moved over to where Orihime and Rukia stood, preparing to leave for the Soul Society. She would miss her, she thought sadly. She had grown close to her in the short time that had known each other.
"You and Orihime are getting along well too." Ichigo noted, following her gaze.
"We are. She's so sweet. It would be really hard not to like her." Misaki said with a smile.
"She is." he said with a sigh. Misaki considered him silently for a moment before saying, "She's in love with you."
"I know." he said without hesitation. The news didn't surprise him at all, she thought.
"I've known for a long time." he added after a moment. "Did you get that when you were inside her head?"
"Yeah, I wasn't supposed to say anything but I thought if you..." she started then stopped.
"You thought if I felt the same way that you'd just play matchmaker?" he snapped.
"I guess so." Misaki admitted quietly.
"I love Orihime. I'd die for her. But..."
"But you're not in love with her." Misaki completed. She understood.
"Exactly. It's the same thing with Rukia. She's a really good friend but I'm not in love with her. Everybody thinks we're together. It bugs me sometimes." he said with a frown. "Orihime's like a sister to me. I've known her since we were kids. And Rukia...she's a friend. Just a friend. It's Renji that's in love with her. He's just too stupid to realize it."
"Renji and Rukia?" Misaki said in surprise. Ichigo grinned, glancing over at her as he said softly,
"Yeah, they've been close since they were little. He's always loved her, I think. He's just a damn idiot."
"I didn't realize." Misaki said, smiling. "You and Rukia are always together so I assumed..."
"Everyone does." he said sharply. "The thing is...I'd like to meet somebody special. Somebody who'd accept me for who I am...not who I used to be or who I have the potential to become. Just me...the good and the bad that's in me."
"I can understand that." Misaki agreed, watching Zaraki walk back onto the roof alone. Yachiru must be asleep, she thought. He walked over to the where the bar had been set up and poured himself a glass of sake. Through hooded eyes, he looked up at her and Ichigo then looked away.
"Ichigo, what do you think of Captain Zaraki?" she asked.
"He's a scary dude." Ichigo replied without hesitation. Misaki smiled. She could see where most people would think that but the man didn't frighten her.
"Do you think he's trustworthy?" she asked.
"Oh, hell yes." he insisted. "He's crazy but he doesn't lie or play games. He's a straight-shooter."
"Really?" she said, turning towards him. "Urahara doesn't trust him. He thinks he's here to spy on me for Yamamoto and the Soul Society."
"Spy on you?" Ichigo questioned. "I don't know about that. I wouldn't put it past Yamamoto to be suspicious but if Zaraki is here for that, he's just doing his job. It's nothing personal. I trust him. He might try to kill you but he's not gonna bullshit you. It's not his way."
"You think?" she said with a sigh. Ichigo smiled at her as he said,
"You like him."
Misaki's eyes widened in surprise. Misaki felt her cheeks flush hotly as she looked away, embarrassed. How had he known, she wondered frantically. Was it so obvious?
"Don't sweat it, Misaki. I think it's mutual. He's been staring at us ever since he came back up. He doesn't look too happy that you're talking to me." Ichigo added.
"Oh, he doesn't care about that." Misaki said quickly, her gaze traveling to Zaraki. He stood near the food table. He was watching Ichigo with a dark, brooding expression.
"Yeah, he does." Ichigo said with a grin as he stood to move away from her. He paused to add,
"You can trust him, Misaki. He doesn't give a shit about rules or what the Sereitei thinks. He has his own code and I don't think he'd lie to you."
"Thanks Ichigo." she said quietly as he walked away to throw his two cents worth in Renji and Ikkaku's on-going argument. Misaki looked back at Zaraki. He had bit into a dumpling and immediately made a face, spitting the food out. With a disgusted look, he tossed the dumpling over the side of the roof. Misaki smiled just as he looked back at her. He took a big drink from the glass he held, grinning at her. Slowly, he made his way over to her.
"I think the ink from your tattoos must've affected your brain, Renji. You know I'm ten times the swordsman that you are." Ikkaku laughed as Zaraki leisurely crossed the roof.
"At least I don't have to wax my bald head everyday." Renji said loudly, shoving Ikkaku forcefully for emphasis.
"I'm not bald." Ikkaku growled, pushing Renji back hard. Ichigo was walking behind the red-haired man at the same time. Misaki caught a blur of movement out of the corner of her eye as Renji slammed into Ichigo, knocking him off-balance. Ichigo stumbled, falling against Misaki. Reflexively, she caught him by the arm. She flinched at the touch of flesh against her hand. No, she thought after a moment. Ichigo's spiritual pressure was high enough that it shouldn't affect her too strongly.
Misaki could feel his reiatsu fluctuating wildly. Initially it repelled her, pushing her back and preventing her from moving inside Ichigo's soul. Then suddenly, the power rushed away, pulling her down like a riptide. The swirling vortex dragged her down into the darkness of his soul before she could even scream in fear. The blackness swallowed her whole.
Hope you enjoyed this last chapter. I'm working on the next already. I want to thank each of you who have taken the time to review the story so far and let me know what you think. I really appreciate the reviews! Thank you!