FIC - Belated Realization ~Kenpachi,Yachiru ~PG13
Title: Belated Realization
Pairings/Characters: Zaraki Kenpachi, Kusajishi Yachiru (no pairing)
Spoilers: none
Warnings: character death
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 1049
Prompt: death fic
Written for: week #32 bleach_contest
Description: As the war crawls to a close the death of someone so precious batters the heart
Beta: yawns_widely
I’d never cried before, not once in my incredibly long and brutal existence. Today, with no shame I fell to my knees and wept openly with guilt and fear in my heart. I cradled the small pink head in my lap as carefully as my clumsy and inept hands were able. I looked down into the sweet face of the only person in my life I’d ever loved and watched the light fade from her beautiful brown eyes.
***
Loving Yachiru had never been a conscious effort, but done in my own way, as well as I was able. I’d never had anyone teach me to care, so I muddled through as best I could and simply vowed to never leave her behind if she wanted to follow. I found she rarely wanted to be left behind. Nothing I did frightened her and she never doubted I’d always be there for her.
For the first year, I carried her with one arm and fought with the other. It was a much more difficult fighting style and I relished the challenge, never realizing that hauling a baby into combat was wrong. It never even crossed my battle addled brain that she could have died every time.
It didn’t take long before Yachiru was strong enough and capable enough to cling to my back, leaving both my hands free. The extra weight on my back still provided that razor edge of risk I required. With each shift of her small body, she threatened to unbalance me at each crucial juncture further providing the rush of adrenaline I so craved.
Eventually the small shifting weight on my back wasn’t enough to disturb my fighting, even against a dozen men. So, I made my way to Seireitei in the hopes that someone there would once again feed the hunger, not of my belly, but of my fighting soul. Yachiru swung from my arms and crawled across my back enjoying the new adventure as much as she enjoyed each previous one we had endured together.
Nothing I did upset her. In her eyes I was the world and never made mistakes. She took our life as it came much more easily than I did. She desired nothing that I couldn’t easily provide, whilst I thirsted for bigger and more dangerous battles.
My victory and new captaincy of the Eleventh Division was satisfying, but in truth the rules and lack of available, worthy adversaries was a bit boring. I stayed, though, because for the first time in my life I felt something for someone besides myself. I watched Yachiru thrive. She had finally found her own version of fun that was separate from mine. Though I was a little disappointed she no longer dangled from my back at every turn, it was exciting seeing her find a new way in the world that was completely hers’.
She had friends, real people who played with her and gave her a version of entertainment I was incapable of understanding. She was no longer a weight or a responsibility, but my cheerleader. It was rather entertaining in its own way, and I had never been more grateful for her more detached position than when I encountered Ichigo.
I realized for the first time there might be someone out there capable of beating me and the thrill of that was only tempered by my worry for Yachiru. Not that my death would leave her alone, because I knew she would never be alone with her make shift family to love and care for her. However, I was worried that she might continue to follow me to a place I no longer wanted her to go.
The first time I saw it was in my altercation with Nnoitra, the Fifth Espada. Yachiru tried to come to my side when I appeared minutes from death. My earlier ambiguous worry for her only clarified and increased. She’d never exhibited a tendency for protection before. She’d always been content to watch me take my licks, either from my back or from a distance and wait expectantly for me to finish my fun and return to her. I think the extra excitement of my battle with Ichigo, the near death that she watched me experience, had changed her thoughts toward my mortality as much as it had changed mine towards her safety.
I wish I had read the true implications of her changed attitude more clearly. I wish I had realized that no matter how many new family members she acquired, I would always be the most important person to her. All these truths I learned much too late. I learned them in the moment she gave a war cry and prevented the finishing blow that would have severed my head. I discovered them as she lay dying in my arms with my ability to wield vast amounts of reiatsu, useless. I was her father and I could do nothing but cradle her with my love and watch as the energy and incredible life drained out of her tiny and precious body.
Leaning over her, I whispered with fading breath, “I love you Yachiru, please don’t leave me.”
I watched as my tears decorated the dirt streaked face and created clear tracks to make her even more lovely, but no less damaged. She looked so much like the toddler I picked up a lifetime ago with the streaks of dirt and blood coating her body. However, this time the blood wasn’t that of strangers out to do harm, but of my own precious Yachiru, who truly wished harm on no one. This time there was no fearless toddler smile, just a serene and natural look of a girl who had fulfilled her duty.
Pressing my cheek to the wound that cut through her heart, I felt it falter repeatedly before it gave a final shudder. I screamed in rage as the ignored tears tracked down my face. For the first time in my life I could feel injustice and I screamed again at all of it. It should never have been Yachiru, never my Yachiru.
As my mind faded from consciousness, I swear I heard a quiet, gentle, girlish little voice breathe into my ear, “I will do what I can Zaraki-taichou. Know that I will. Minazuki, bankai please…”