Title: Medical Attention
Universe: Bleach
Theme/Topic: N/A
Rating: PG
Character/Pairing/s: Mayuri, Yachiru, Hanatarou (with appearances by Kenpachi, Ikkaku, and Yumichika)
Warnings/Spoilers: Uh, vague spoilers for the Mayuri fight in the SS arc and um, crack and OOC all over the place. XD;;
Word Count: 1,789
Summary: Follow up to “
For Luck”- Yachiru is concerned for Mayuri’s wellbeing.
Dedication:
shinigamikender- hopefully this is not retarded beyond all words. And clearly I fail for being timely in anything, as you are already over whatever it was making you sad. BUT IT’S THE THOUGHT THAT COUNTS RIGHT?
A/N: THIS IS SERIOUSLY CRACK TIMES A BILLION BUT I COULDN’T HELP BUT THINK IT WOULD BE A FUNNY IMAGE ALL THE SAME. I’M SORRY. Also, kind of a rush job because I didn’t want to put it off again. XD
Disclaimer: Not mine, though I wish constantly.
Distribution: Just lemme know.
Needless to say, Yachiru’s many visits to the twelfth division headquarters (everyone was still a little boggled by her fascination) meant a lot of liquefied Kurotsuchi-taichou as he strategically retreated from the young vice-captain’s overbearing presence whenever she came calling, not quite running so much as regrouping in search of better retaliatory strategy (or so he said).
Yachiru in the meantime, fretted over her friend Bozo-face’s sudden disappearances from the face of the earth as well as marveled over the strange bits of “nose-goo” she saw all over the place at random. Really, didn’t anyone ever clean stuff up in the twelfth division? No wonder Bozo-face didn’t like to hang around.
When she complained about it to Kenpachi and the rest of her buddies over at the eleventh, they all shared a look, before bursting out laughing (it probably helped that they were all already a little bit drunk).
“Fukutaichou,” Yumichika began with a fluttery little giggle, “that is most definitely not nose-goo.”
Yachiru blinked. “It’s not?”
Zaraki snorted. “Whenever Kurotsuchi gets beat up’re somethin’ he turns into that.”
Yachiru stared, disbelieving. “Really? He turns into a big pile of boogers?!”
Ikkaku grinned. “For lack of better word, yeah. You really didn’t know? I thought everybody knew.”
Yachiru looked rather off-put by the whole thing. “I didn’t know! It just looked like somebody’d snotted all over the floor!”
Yumichika sniffed. “Snotted is not a word, fukutaichou.”
“Blew their nose,” Yachiru corrected, automatically.
“Thank you,” Yumi responded, and poured himself more wine.
Zaraki only chortled. “Dumbass musta gotten his ass kicked somethin’ fierce then. Though can’t say I’m surprised given he was beat up by some twenty pound Quincy who sews.”
“It’s not funny!” Yachiru started, looking genuinely distressed.
Everyone looked at her. “Er, somethin’ the matter there, fukutaichou?” Ikkaku began, warily.
“He’s been all puddly for like, weeks!” she told them. “What if he got really hurt and can’t put himself back together? And he’s all over the hallways’n stuff when I see him and maybe people are steppin’ on him so he gets hurt even worse!”
Zaraki raised his hand, looking confused. “Why’s this matter now?”
Yachiru gave him a very unpleasant look. “He must be sick! ‘S what happens when you clean on New Year’s! You get bad luck and you get sick or hurt or turned into boogers for the rest of your life! I bet nobody even tried ta help him at all!”
The other eleventh division members stared at her. Yumichika was the first to speak. “Fukutaichou, did you happen to…make friends with Kurotsuchi-taichou?” he asked. “Er, like you did with Kuchiki-taichou?”
“Sure, we’re great pals!” Yachiru assured them. “Once he made stuff blow up for me! It was a huge fireball and awesome! Took out a whole wall!”
A beat.
“Are you sure he didn’t throw it at you?”
Yachiru rolled her eyes. “Course not! I only got hit a little!”
“Great,” Kenpachi grumped. “This don’t mean he’s gonna be showin’ up here makin’ me do stuff for you like Kuchiki-hime does, does it?”
“Not if he’s sick all the time!” Yachiru said, and looked more and more distressed the more she thought about it. “He can’t even get offa the floor!”
“Too bad,” Kenpachi said, and didn’t even bother to try sounding sincere.
Yachiru huffed and decided that since Ken-chan and Baldie and Feathery didn’t really talk to Bozo-face all that much like she did, they just wouldn’t understand. Which also meant that it was probably up to her as his only friend in the whole wide world to try and help him out.
Honestly, what would old Bozo-face do without her?
“I’m gonna go see him!” she announced abruptly, and darted from the room without another word.
The three of them watched her go. “Think we oughta stop her?” Ikkaku offered after a beat.
Kenpachi cracked open some more beer. “Nah. Last time I didn’t stop her and she got a pony.”
“Point,” Ikkaku acknowledged, and grabbed more beer for himself as well.
Yumichika tossed back another glass of wine and blearily wondered what-exactly- had happened to that pony of hers in the end.
For the life of him, he couldn’t remember.
Meanwhile, Yachiru dashed up to the twelfth division headquarters’ main gate with a jar the size of her whole body tucked under her arm, knocking furiously and calling out “Bozo-face needs our help!” as she bounced impatiently from foot to foot waiting to be let in.
No answer.
She muttered and just scaled the gate at that point- she didn’t have time to waste after all. If everyone was so slow on the uptake here in the twelfth it was a wonder that Bozo-face wasn’t dead already or worse.
“Bozo-face!” she shouted, once over the stone walls, jar still clutched determinedly in her small hands. “Bozo-face if you can hear me swish around a bit, okay? I’ll come’n get you!”
No response.
Frustrated, she shot into the hallways then, looking for the missing puddle-captain and hoping he hadn’t dried up after all this time or something and she’d have to scrape him off the floor with her zanpakutou to get him to go anywhere.
She searched room after room and he wasn’t there in any of them, and when a couple of weird people tried to catch her she knocked them out quick, not even bothering to try and explain herself as she frantically searched for her friend in need.
Ironically enough, she found him in the same old bathtub she’d first seen him in on New Year’s Day, a big layer of snotty, quivery goo sloshing around in the tub.
“Bozo-face!” she cried when she saw him, looking immensely relieved. “I’m so sorry I didn’t know it was you when I was passin’ you in the hallways’n stuff! I only found out today that you turn into boogers when you’re hurt!”
The water quivered in response, and one might have described the action as indignant if goo could ever be called indignant.
“But don’t worry!” Yachiru continued, and promptly twisted the lid off of the jar and dipped it into the tub. “I’m gonna take you to the doctor right now!”
The water struggled, washing back out of the jar and curling in the far corner, but Yachiru moved quickly and gathered up as much as would fit inside her container before popping the lid on. “Sorry if that hurt! But we’ll go get it made all better right now ‘kay?” she promised the jar’s shaking contents solemnly. “And uh, I’ll come back for the other bits later,” she added, turning back over her shoulder to acknowledge the remaining goo, sitting there looking all sad and abandoned in the tub.
For now, this was all she could carry.
Steeling her jaw as she made the decision, she braced the now bubbling and frothing container of booger-Mayuri under her arm and took off again, as fast as she could towards the fourth division headquarters.
When she got there the nurse working reception was absolutely no help, and no matter how much Yachiru railed that this was a medical emergency, made her take her jar of stuff and sit down in the waiting room for the next available doctor to see her.
“No wonder people die all the time here!” Yachiru huffed, and shoved herself up onto one of the uncomfortable seats in the hospice, jar in lap as her feet kicked back and forth impatiently over the edge of her chair. “Don’t worry Bozo-face, you just hold on a little longer, ‘kay?”
The liquid absolutely boiled.
A good two hours or so later-just as Yachiru was going to dart back into one of the hospital rooms and drag the first fourth division officer she saw outside to deal with her-a tired-sounding voice came out and said, “Next!”
“Finally!” Yachiru breathed, and clutching her jar tightly, hopped off of her chair and dashed up to a rather weary looking Yamada Hanatarou. “Droopy eyes!” she greeted. “Help!”
Hanatarou blinked at her urgency. “Er…what er, what seems to be the problem, fukutaichou?”
Se held out her jar to him. “He’s dying!!”
Yamada stared.
The liquid churned, menacingly.
“Uhm… w-what is it?”
“It’s Bozo-face!” Yachiru declared anxiously. “He’s hurt! Can't you see? He turned into boogers!”
The liquid slammed against the glass holding it, right at Hanatarou’s face. Repeatedly.
“Uh…uh…I probably need to um…to sedate it first?” the fourth division seventh seat suggested, and really had no idea what he was doing as he looked at the churning gelatin in Yachiru’s jar.
“Well then hurry up!” Yachiru prodded, and thrust the container into his hands.
Sometime later-i.e. triple the normal dosage of the appropriate drugs later-they had a half solidified mound of gooey, Mayuri-shaped liquid gelatin sitting on one of the examination tables and dripping condensation all over the floor.
It giggled a lot.
“Is he really better?” Yachiru asked Hanatarou after a moment, looking highly skeptical about the whole thing.
“He’s uh, he’s just loopy right now,” Hanatarou told her, and monitored the twelfth division captain’s charts very carefully. “He seems fine though? I mean. Though maybe I shouldn’t have…dissolved so many pills into him earlier. But I didn’t really know the appropriate dosage for someone in…gel form.”
Yachiru eyed the twelfth division blob sitting on the examination table, staring in fascination at the face of a red, skull-shaped lollipop.
“Well, he looks better’n he did before,” she conceded after a bit. “Good job, droopy-eyes!”
Hanatarou smiled, shakily. “Uh, but real quick…maybe you ought to you know, go back and get the rest of him?”
Yachiru blinked. “Oh yeah! I forgot!” she murmured, and looked appropriately sheepish. “I’ll go do that right now!”
She turned to the gel-captain then, speaking very slowly. “I’mma go get your legs now, ‘kay, Bozo-face? You uh… you stay here’n rest some. Don’t eat too much candy, I think it’ll make you even more loopier or something.”
“Did you say something, Reginald?” Goo-Mayuri asked of the skull sucker in his hand, not even acknowledging Yachiru’s presence. “Yes, yes, severing that particular artery causes death in thirty seconds, isn’t that lovely? Oh well, I’ll just have to show you if you don’t believe me, you naughty chicken. I hope you don’t mind those clothes getting dirty when I show you! Heehee.”
Yachiru and Hanatarou stared.
And then Yachiru beamed. “He seems happy!”
That said she darted off-jar in hand-and went to finish the other half of her self-appointed mission. And as she did, she sure hoped that Bozo-face appreciated having such a good friend on his side.
In the meantime, Mayuri and Reginald the red-chicken-skull-lollipop had an absolutely smashing afternoon together.
END
EDITS PLZ. SO NEEDED MY BRAIN DIED THREE SENTENCES IN. LOL