Winged Knight requested that I involve Zaraki in one of these, so after thinking it over for a while, I came up with this. Hopefully this works.
In his line of work, Hitsugaya had learned one indisputable lesson over all others, one single proverb that encompassed just about everything he had ever done and seen since becoming a shinigami.
Expect the unexpected.
Regardless of this, however, there were certain things that, were he to see them, he would disbelieve and discount as a hallucination.
An example might be a certain daydream he had had recently while sick with a relatively common but still debilitating illness, a daydream involving two of the craziest men he had ever met performing a dance routine on a floor covered in blood and bodies.
He still laughed about that, as creepy as the image was, especially when he saw Kurotsuchi at a Captain's meeting or happened across Kira in the mess hall.
He couldn't help it.
Another such happening, however, had been real, and it was a story he told Matsumoto one day while on patrol. He seemed to be doing a lot of remembering lately, and found that he was much more comfortable relaying these memories to his vice-captain than he had been.
He supposed they were getting closer.
He'd been at he Fourth Division's infirmary checking on some of his men, just before Kuchiki Rukia's failed execution and the revealing of Aizen Sousuke's true nature.
It had been one of those things he was sure he would never see no matter how long he lived. He had been acquainted with numerous members of other divisions, and since the Eleventh's headquarters were so close to his own, it was that band of bloodthirsty thugs that he was most used to seeing.
And one thing he had just known he would never see was an Eleventh Division member crying.
Sure, Kusajishi Yachiru was a kid, younger even than he, and it shouldn't have been such a shock that such a small, petite girl could shed tears...given her babyish appearance, it should have been completely natural.
But somehow...it just hadn't been.
And as much as he wanted sometimes to deny it, Hitsugaya had a protective side...a very pronounced protective side, especially when dealing with young people, and so he hadn't been able to leave her alone.
"Kusajishi," he had said simply, standing near the bench on which she sat, sniffling and wiping at her face with her sleeves.
She looked up at him, and her normally innocent, happy, dancing eyes were somber and deeply troubled. "Oh...it's Hitsu-chan," she said.
He ignored that.
"What is it? What's wrong?"
The pink-haired girl looked down at her lap and her eyes darted to the door beside her. "It...it's Ken-chan. Ken-chan died."
"If he's in there, he didn't die."
"But he did! He won't wake up! I know, 'cuz I checked!"
"Is Zaraki in that room?"
"Yes, but he's dead! Ichi killed him!"
Ichi...Hitsugaya had had no idea who she had been referring to at the time. He simply crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.
"Unohana would have moved his body if he had died, Kusajishi. Zaraki isn't dead. He's probably just sleeping."
"No! He's not! I checked! I kicked him, but he won't wake up!"
Raising an eyebrow, Hitsugaya frowned. "You...kicked him."
"Ken-chan says if you kick a guy between his legs and he doesn't make a noise, then he's probably dead! I kicked, Hitsu-chan! A whole lot of times! But he won't wake up!"
If not for the fact that Yachiru was in such a state, Hitsugaya would have laughed. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from letting a snicker out.
"...Probably. He said probably, didn't he? Don't worry, Kusijashi. Zaraki wouldn't die so easily. Just be patient."
"But Ken-chan's dead!"
"No, he's not. Just be patient and I'm sure he'll wake up soon."
The girl's eyes were so full of hope that it made Hitsugaya's heart ache. She looked up at him as if he were some sort of god come to her in order to answer her prayers.
"R-Really, Hitsu-chan? Honest?"
"Honest. If I know one thing about Zaraki, it's that he doesn't go down easily. He wouldn't die like this. If there was enough of him left to warrant taking him here, then there's enough of him left to survive."
Evidently Yachiru had agreed with this idea, because she smiled and nodded. Then she had run off, proclaiming that she had to tell "baldy-head" and "peacock-face" the good news.
But as weird as that was...the story hadn't ended there.
Weeks later, long after Zaraki had made a full (and miraculous) recovery, he had run into Hitsugaya...and hadn't mocked the boy captain for being such a shrimp, which had brought Hitsugaya up short (pun entirely intended).
"Oi."
"...Zaraki?"
"Been meanin' t' ask ya somethin'."
"Huh? What?"
"Back when I first woke up after 'at Ichigo bastard knocked me flat, Yachiru kept sayin' you was right, 'at you'd said I weren't dead 'n 'at I'd be back."
Hitsugaya had raised an eyebrow at this, nodding. "Yes...I spoke to her."
"Why'd you do that? You ain't the type just t' make small talk wit' people."
"She was crying," Hitsugaya said. "She'd thought you were dead. It had her in hysterics. I...had to say something."
The huge, hulking captain's single visible eye appraised him with a thoughtfulness that didn't seem natural for him.
"...'Zat right. So...you cheered 'er up when she was sad, huh?"
"Uh...yeah."
Zaraki had looked at him for another long moment, then grunted something that might have been approval but just as well could have been a curse, and had walked away.
Hitsugaya hadn't made anything of it for a long while after that, until he realized one very important thing.
Zaraki never called him a shrimp anymore.
"Huh..." Matsumoto said thoughtfully after Hitsugaya told her all of this. "...who'da thunk it? Seems that blockhead has a soft side after all."
Kusajishi Yachiru could cry, and Zaraki Kenpachi had a soft side.
...Expect the unexpected, indeed.
I think the next one will have to be one of those over-the-top silly ones...I'm getting too sentimental for my own good. I think I'm turning into a complete sap. Anyway, 'til next time. Oh...and if anyone has a request, feel free to ask. It might take me a while, but if I can work it, I'll be sure to do it.
Ja ne.