Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach.
Kuukaku sat, utterly bored, on the front step of the first division headquarters. She could hear the muted voices of Yoruichi and Yamamoto coming from inside; Kuukaku had told her side of the story very frankly to the Captain-commander, and Yoruichi was currently presenting the intelligence she'd gained on Toyoma's hunt for Yachiru. Which was, disappointingly, very little. All potential trails seemed to go cold very quickly, and as Zaraki had killed Toyoma's vice during that last, ill-fated ambush, there was no-one directly connected to the man to interrogate.
Kuukaku blew out a sigh, stretching a little as the cool evening breeze picked up. She was wondering idly how long Yoruichi was going to be when there were footsteps behind her: the second division captain cocked a grin at her.
"Well, we're through."
"Took you long enough." Kuukaku got up, dusting herself off. "Where's the soutaichou?"
"He's busy writing letters to Central 46 about Toyoma," she began to walk down the street, Kuukaku falling in step beside her. "I've gotta get to fourth division and let them know to start making preparations."
"Preparations?"
"For your friend's captaincy ceremony, moron," Yoruichi gave Kuukaku a light slap to the back of her head; Kuukaku retaliated with a punch, expecting her friend to dodge, and grunted in surprise when her fist connected solidly to flesh. Flesh that was not brown or feminine, but pale like her own and covered in stubble.
"Owww, shit, Kuukaku!" Shiba Kaien stumbled back, clutching his jaw, a wounded expression in his eyes. "Is that any way to say hello to your favourite older brother?"
"Jerk, you're my only older brother," Kuukaku retorted, smiling despite herself, "and it's your own fault for not dodging. Yoruichi managed it."
"Yoruichi-sama is a goddess of shunpo," Kaien executed a small bow in the direction of the Shihouin, who was wearing a very smug, feline smile. "Anyway, I just heard about the kerfuffle; I was in the living world this afternoon, doing some special training with Kyouraku-taichou's squad."
"Ah, I'd wondered where he'd gotten to," Yoruichi remarked. "He never passes up an opportunity for entertainment."
"It was that interesting, was it?" Kaien asked, "I'm sorry I missed it then. How about filling me in on all the juicy details? All I heard was that some monstrously strong vagabond from Rukongai busted his way in here and defeated Toyoma-taichou in single combat, all with my little sister in tow. Although," he gave Kuukaku a sidelong glance, "I doubt the truth of that last statement. There was no way you weren't involved with it up to the neck, Kuu-chan."
Kuukaku crossed her arms and grinned. "Not saying anything until you feed me, aniki. Invading gives me an appetite."
"I see how it is," Kaien said, mock-jadedly. "I finally get somewhere in life, only to have my relatives come to mooch off me. Ah, fine, follow me."
The three made their way down the road towards Kaien's quarters, watched by two sets of eyes.
"Bedsheet-san has a big brother," Yachiru observed, popping her head over Zaraki's shoulder. "Ne, Ken-chan, I want a big brother!"
"Don't be stupid," Zaraki retorted, walking up the first division steps, "you have me." He tripped on the last step, stubbing his toe and cursing loudly.
"Silly Ken-chan can't walk," Yachiru singsonged as Zaraki muttered epithets against the brand-new eyepatch that he now wore. It was damn creepy, the fact that he was wearing a living thing on his face; if he let a bit of light in under the patch, he could see the thing's glittery eyes and ever-working mouths. The flappy scientist captain had assured him that it would eat up to fifty percent of the reiatsu he radiated: Zaraki could feel the difference. It wasn't just the loss of depth perception which was making him clumsy, but the feeling that perhaps gravity was pulling on him a bit more than other people.
Even after being healed - the flappy captain had shooed him off to a division full of people with arms like sticks who seemed to crap magic, but hey, whatever worked - Zaraki felt tired. Weary. Weighed down. It made him want to rip the eyepatch off, but each time he raised his hand - just to scratch it, of course - Yachiru would give him a swat. He sighed, then knocked on the door in front of him.
It slid back almost immediately, the man with short, white hair - fukutaichou, Zaraki remembered - ushering him in. In the back room, Yamamoto-soutaichou was sitting crosslegged on a few convenient cushions: before him was a low table with a tea service.
"Sit down, Zaraki-taichou," Yamamoto commanded, and Zaraki complied, taking the tea that was proffered. He looked at it for a moment, then passed it up to Yachiru, who had moved to sit on his shoulder.
"Arigatou," she said happily; Yamamoto regarded her with more bemusement than surprise on his face.
"Zaraki, I don't believe I've met your companion," he rumbled.
"Soutaichou, this is my ward, Kusajishi Yachiru," Zaraki said, then wondered if he should elaborate, then wondered what the hell he would say. On his shoulder, Yachiru waved cheerfully and kicked her feet.
"Your...ward." Yamamoto coughed, not quite masking the smile. "Am I right in assuming she has no parents?"
"Nope," Yachiru piped up. "Ken-chan gave me my name."
Zaraki's eyes met Yamamoto's with a deliberately stony gaze. There was a moment of silence, in which Zaraki could hear a strange, muffled cough from the fukutaichou outside.
"Ah," Yamamoto said, and that one word carried volumes of meaning, which Zaraki let pass by without a word. "Well then. Zaraki-taichou and Kusajishi-chan. Sereitei is now your home; more specifically, the eleventh division is now your home, your job, your responsibility, and your dearest friends. Sereitei exists to maintain balance between Soul Society and the "real" world; we facilitate the entry of spirits into Soul Society, and we attempt to free those souls who have become hollows. Hollows attempt to devour the "plus" spirits before we may send them to the afterlife; it is our job to purify hollows by slaying them with our zanpakutous."
Yachiru, who had been listening wide-eyed, leaned down and stage-whispered gleefully in Zaraki's ear. "Ken-chan! Your job is to fight things!"
Yamamoto cleared his throat. "Yes, in effect. Although the purifying of hollows does not, in fact, destroy the souls within the hollow; it merely releases them into Soul Society as "plus" spirits. On occasion, hollows will find their way into Soul Society, but for the most part, each member of each division is assigned to a specific location in the "real" world to find and deal with the spirits there. As captain, Zaraki-taichou, it will be your duty to train the shinigami in your division, preparing them for battle, as well as managing the assignation of shinigami to the real world, and processing and filing the reports from on-duty shinigami."
"Paperwork?" Zaraki snorted. "Sir, I'm a simple man, and I know my limits. Paperwork is one of them."
"As captain, your main job is to approve reports and investigate ones you feel are problematic," Yamamoto poured himself another cup of tea. "For the most part, a vice-captain does the paperwork. Since Toyoma-taichou's vice-captain was reported to have been killed on a mission to Rukongai, you are free to pick your own vice-captain. You must choose carefully; I advise you to get to know your subordinates first before promoting any one to the position, as it requires an immense amount of strength and skill, not to mention talent in the areas of -"
"Kusajishi Yachiru," Zaraki cut Yamamoto off. "She will do as my vice-captain."
There was a long moment.
"Zaraki-taichou, you are aware that a vice-captain must have a zanpakutou of their own?" Yamamoto put his tea down on the table. "Not to mention have the capacity to read and write lengthy reports, hold her own in pitched battle, and be responsible for a squad of shinigami fighters? I have little say in your appointment of officers, but I must ask you to reconsider this."
"Yachiru will do," Zaraki said again. "She learns pretty fast."
"And I've got a zanpakutou!" Yachiru piped up cheerfully, producing a tiny, sheathed sword out of nowhere. The scabbard had wheels. "Ken-chan taught me how to fight; don't worry, Beard-sama."
Yamamoto's hand went reflexively to his beard before he realized what he was doing and picked up his tea again. He sipped slowly, deliberating, his eyes nearly hidden by his shaggy, overhanging eyebrows.
"Very well," he said finally. "I hope that you will not regret this decision, Zaraki-taichou."
"Thank you, sir," Zaraki said blandly.
"You may follow Sasakibe-fukutaichou to your quarters at the eleventh division. Dinner has already ended, but there should be some already brought up to your office. After that, you may wish to address your squad, and any concerns they may have about your captaincy."
Yamamoto stood up, Zaraki doing so as well, and the two men bowed formally to each other. "There will be a captain's meeting here tomorrow at noon to discuss both your captaincy ceremony and a funeral for Toyoma-taichou," Yamamoto said, after straightening up. "Attendance is mandatory. Good night Zaraki-taichou, Kusajishi-fukutaichou."
Zaraki turned and left, following the white-haired vice-captain down the hallway. "Niiiight!" Yachiru called back over his shoulder, then used her zanpakutou to ding Zaraki on the top of the head.
"Brat, what the hell."
"Ken-chan needs better hair," Yachiru explained, as they walked out into the cool night air. "All the captains here have pretty hair. I want Ken-chan to have pretty hair, too!"
Zaraki ignored the muffled snorting of their guide as he replied: "Kid, the day that I have pretty hair is the day my sword gets up and starts walking and talking."
"Awwww," Yachiru pouted.
"Maybe bad-ass hair," Zaraki conceded.
"Or a beard!"
"Not a beard."
"Phooey."
Yachiru yawned, effectively ruining her cross face, and listened to the gravel crunching under Ken-chan and Quiet-chan's feet. All around her, lights were softly glowing from different division buildings; as they passed by doorways she could hear chatter and laughter. She might have fun here, Yachiru decided. And, with a little getting used to it, Ken-chan might have fun too. She watched a shinigami with a broom chase another shinigami across the street, and made up her mind. She would make it fun...starting with Ken-chan's hair.
A/N: Omfg it's over!
All good things must come to an end, and I'd rather not flog this like a dead horse. So, the epic adventure ends, and several ends are left loose for perhaps maybe future oneshots. Kuukaku/Zaraki fans, be not alarmed; I have been drafted into writing a smutfic most foul, which will be published whenever I can finally make it stop sounding like a badly-characterized Harlequin novella. It'll be a one-shot, of course. I've tried very hard to keep everything to manga canon in this fic, so a torrid, on-going love affair between two characters who have ostensibly never met each other in the actual storyline wouldn't really work; at least, in my mind.
Anyways, thank you all so much for reading and sticking it out to the end. Your feedback really helped to shape the fic and - in some cases - even gave me inspiration for certain scenes. I'm definitely more confident writing fight scenes now, if nothing else.