He wants to kick their asses. Every last spineless pansy. Saying the fourth squad captain was "scary." Dumbasses. They've sullied his pride and he intended, in coming here, to set the record straight. Put the woman in her place. She's no fighter. But when he entered her office, he was bowled over by the peace that dwelled within it in the form of a tiny, delicate female. Instead of telling her off, he let her make him tea and sat cross-legged across from her in stunned silence. He's put himself in a bad position and knows it. Therefore, since he can't go after her, he thinks, he'll take the frustration out on his chicken-shit men.
When he reconsiders his desire, it dawns on him that the task will take a while, and besides, he'd be bored out of his mind after wiping the floor two or three of them. Not to mention the fact that Yachiru will demand her cut, as always, and that usually causes the need for a chase and damn, being a captain should mean your opponents have the fucking sense not to run from you.
"If you keep brooding like that, Ken-chan, your face will stick that way," the woman says in a voice that is singsong, but somehow not.
Only one person is allowed to call him that, and she ain't here. He glares at the lips the voice came from and imagines them bleeding. Or tries to. They are curved upward, not a smile, not a frown, just a simple conveyance of non-aggression. Peaceful-like. He's sure those lips have been bloodied before, but he is also sure that bloodying them comes with one hell of a retribution.
For the placid face and the calm, controlled voice, he's seen the steel behind those gray eyes. He wonders why no one bothers to say anything about it—damn, he's lost his train of thought again.
Oh, yeah. He wants to kick their asses—she's got pretty hair. Pretty as a raven's wing. Shiny, like blackened, crusted blood. Yeah, pretty like that.
Okay, he thinks, that's enough. He stands to go.
"Leaving so soon?" she asks him.
"Uh, yeah, got stuff to do."
"Come back whenever you like," she says, and clearly means it. The steel in her eyes waves at him. It has no fear. She has no fear.
His stomach lurches and he nods, awkward as he's ever been. As he walks away from the fourth division compound, he concedes that Unohona Retsu is indeed scary.
And kinda beautiful.
By the time he gets home, he decides he'll go back tomorrow for a rematch.