chapter 7 sound of bells (soi/ken)
SOUND OF BELLS - soi fong/ zaraki kenpachi pairing
Anime: *that clear liquid in a bottle* BLEACH, it does a body good
Characters: Zaraki Kenpachi/ Soi Fong
Warnings: NC-17 for smut and some language for ch.3/4 and later chapters
Disclaimer: Tite Kubo owns Bleach as well as the characters used in this fanfic *and I love him for it*
( chapter 1 ) ( chapter 4 )
( chapter 2 ) ( chapter 5 )
( chapter 3 ) ( chapter 6 )
Chapter 7 Sound of Bells
soi fong/zaraki kenpachi
“Kenpachi,” he was relieved to hear her call him by that name again, “Kenpachi,” she started again, moving close to him. She reached out her uninjured hand and lightly caressed his hand with her fingertips, his fingers jumped in response and moved to entwine with hers. He admired the feel of how small her hand felt in his as she continued:
“Kenpachi, I’m pregnant . . . going to have a baby, expecting, with child, how ever you say it, no matter how you say it- I’m that . . . . And with you . . . I am.” the movement of the hand that held hers, stopped stirring
Before Kenpachi could answer, a third voice, a small voice, interrupted the discussion, “WHAT!”
Yachiru stood only feet away in total shock.
Zaraki Kenpachi’s chance to react would have to wait, his attention now turned to the small pink haired girl who looked as if she was about to cry- something she rarely ever did, even when she was a baby, she hadn’t even cried then.
Now that he saw the hurt in his fukutaichou’s face he couldn’t stand it; he kept her smiling her whole life and as long as he was around he had planned to keep it that way.
“Yachiru,” he started, moving towards her a few steps.
Yachiru took a step back from him. “Don’t . . .” she wailed.
With angered tearful eyes, the young fukutaichou turned away and was gone in a flash, a cloud of dust trailing behind her path was all that lingered.
Soi Fong stood with eyes fixed on the ground, not knowing what else to say. She already said everything she needed too, anything else wouldn’t matter.
“Should I go after her?” Kenpachi turned his head to the side to look back at her, “you know the entire 11th division will know if I don’t.”
Soi Fong shook her head, eyes still focused on the floor. “It won’t matter. All of Serietei will know in nine months or so anyways . . . . so why delay it.”
Kenpachi faced forward again, looking at the now settling dust. He waited for a minute longer, both kept silent, until all traces of Yachiru’s ‘mad dash’ had dissolved.
He turned back around to face Soi Fong, still standing in the exact same spot where she hadn’t moved from. This time, as he approached her, she raised her gaze to meet him, following him until he stood in front of her again.
For a moment he studied the petite woman in quietness, a stern look in his expression. Say something, she thought. But he couldn’t; he didn’t know what to say, a contradiction to the several thoughts that raced through his mind: is that the explanation for the reiatsu fluctuations she’s had lately? Is it even possible . . . someone like me . . . from rukongai? Anyways, She don’t look it, pregnant I mean; her stomach’s still flat, not like those knocked up noble women I’d seen in Sereitei.
Soi Fong stood, wondering if he would ever say anything to her, wondering if she would be able to handle the tension any longer, Kenpachi, say something . . . anything . . .
“Bakkero! Why the hell did you fight me then? Are you outta your mind, woman? And why the hell did you let me cut ya?!” He pointed to her wounds, now dark red from the start of healing. Soi examined the cuts, having been so overwhelmed by emotion, she had almost forgotten about it. She placed her focus back to him once again:
“Listen,” she started, “I wouldn’t have if I didn’t think I could defend myself. And despite this baby throwing my reiatsu out of balance, I did pretty well.” She smirked at him and found it quite comical that he looked so serious and yet was covered with butterfly shaped designs. “Any ways,” she continued, “don’t even start with me; the homonka you’re sporting speaks for itself, maybe if you spent sometime learning how to dodge you wouldn’t look like a giant target post right now.” She laughed.
“Oh really? That’s funny cause for such a ‘giant target post’ you never even tried to hit me in the same spot twice.” He grinned.
“. . . Shut up!” she pouted, “and stop looking so pleased with yourself, idiot!”
“Yare, yare, Soi Fong- you sure are vicious for a pregnant lady.”
“Urasai!” she snapped at the teasing captain, her back already turned to him as she looked around for Suzumebachi. The weapon wasn’t far off and she walked over to retrieve the zanpakutou. She picked it up off the ground and placed the blade back into its blue sheath. As she began to dust it off, two strong arms from behind her wrapped themselves around her shoulders and held her tightly. Zaraki bowed his head down to rest his chin on the top of her head, his eyes closed as he though for a minute before he finally spoke.
“uhh . . .I . . . I’m sorry. I’ll take care of ya, you know tha. Well, I mean . . . I know you can take care of yourself but . . . I would like to also, if that even makes sense.” Her cheeks felt warm suddenly and she felt thankful that he couldn’t see her face; that she wasn’t facing him as he said this - she always hated the fact that her blushing was so apparent, such a nuisance, she sighed to herself.
She thought about what he had just said, and he was right: she did know he would take care of her, that’s just who Zaraki Kenpachi was, she felt it during their first night together when he held her so protectively, he had taken Yachiru under his care, looked out for Ikkaku, Yumichika, probably others. It comforted her to know and hear it but at the same time she was saddened by it. Why?
He slowly loosened his embrace on her and dragged his hands back up onto both her shoulders, turning her around so he could look at her. Soi didn’t raise her eyes to him until she felt his gaze on her face.
“Is that okay with ya?” he asked with sincerity.
“Hai.” She whispered with a small nod as she wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in his chest. She felt so much like her old self; before she was 2nd squad captain, even before Yoruichi’s departure, but she didn’t feel like fighting it this time, a part of her felt like letting it stay…at least for a little while. She felt her eyes grow hot and wet and her hands clutched at Zaraki’s back, fingers burring themselves in the fabric of his haori.
In response, Kenpachi wrapped his arms around her. His arms, hands and sleeves were able to cover her bare shoulders and back, down to her waist. He felt her tremble, apparently from silent tears but didn’t say a word about it- knowing her too well by now to know that it was best to not draw attention to it. Zaraki felt content where he stood holding the small captain. He knew he was going to have to deal with Yachiru and the rest of 11th division later, not to mention Yamamoto; the one who ran soul society now, but really- who couldn’t he handle?. He decided to deal with it all later, now was for Soi. He suddenly wanted to ask her something as a thought entered his mind but wasn’t quite able to bring himself to do so, not just yet anyways. Instead, he changed his mind to something else; an inquiry that had flooded his mind when he had just found out that he and Soi Fong had conceived a child:
“How is this even possible?” he asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe you’re a freak.” She said, her voice slightly muffled by the body and cloth she held herself close to.
“Heh, feeling better already, are we?” he stated jokingly.
“No . . .” she answered, not wanting to let go as she tightened her grip on him.
************
Soi Fong arrived back at 2nd division headquarters not looking like she should have if she were coming back from 4th divisions care, like planned. Fortunately, most of 2nd division was done with the morning training so very few were lingering outside around the court yard.
She walked inside to find Omaeda lounging like the lazy bum that he was- nothing new. He had been talking and laughing with another 2nd squad member when his captain entered the room. Both jumped up to their feet in unison, and bowed low.
“Konnichiwa, Taichou!” they greeted her
“Ah.” She sounded, with little interest.
Omaeda straightened up, “Are you feeling well now, tai . . .chou . . .?” Both shinigami’s grew silent from the sight of her. The usually well-kept 2nd captain made her way across the room, a layer of dust covering her, some tears in her robes, and her hair out of place. She wore her haori opened; untied by its usual yellow scarf that now hung down her shoulders. As she moved, the sides of her haori flapped open with each step, revealing the red gash across her side; a match to the one Omaeda spotted next on her arm.
Both men stood gawking in shock and alarm at their taichou who stopped mid-way into the room and turned her head to look at her fukutaichou. She ignored the expression on his face, an expression quite similar to the one wore by the squad member standing next to him.
“Omaeda, have a 4th division squad member sent over.” She instructed.
“Ummm, taichou, are you sure? It dosen’t look like 4th division is working for you: you look worse now than you did before.” His companion nodded in agreement.
Soi Fong pressed her fingers to her forehead, “Omaeda, you make my head hurt. Just send someone over.”
“Hai.”
Two pairs of eyes followed the second squad leader out the room.
“Do me a favor, Omaeda,” his friend finally spoke up after the captain was out of sight, “if I need medical attention, don’t send me to 4th division, I don’t think I could handle it.”
*************
Zaraki Kenpachi went in search of Yachiru, already knowing where to find his lieutenant. If she was the Yachiru he knew, she would be “hiding” in his office under the desk- a place that completely defeated the purpose of hiding as he had told her countless times, and for all those numerous times, the young girl would insist he was wrong.
Entering his office and closing the door, Kenpachi followed the predicted trail of crayons, two small sandals, and some candy wrappers, that lead to his desk. As he drew close he could hear the sounds of quiet mumbling and the dull scratching sounds of her drawing.
Kenpachi circled the desk noticing the evidence of her actions: she had crawled into the hallow place of the furniture and pulled the chair back in place to block it off. Zaraki took hold of the chair and slid it back, away from the desk. He sat down in it and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his arms relaxed and hands meeting together; knuckles somewhat touching. In this position he was able to see his fukutaichou easier. She, however, didn’t make an attempt to react as if she had even noticed him come into the room; instead she continued a whispered hum and focused, seeming completely fixated, on her drawing.
Zaraki Kenpachi watched his “daughter” examine each crayon with squinting eyes before she applied the colored wax to the paper.
“Maybe you should come on outta there, Yachiru. You can’t see a damn thing under there; s’no light.”
The tiny girl grew silent and turned her eyes on him, a pouting expression on her face. For the time she was turned to him he just watched her, waiting for a response, but after a brief moment, Yachiru just turned back to her drawing and continued her humming.
“What ‘er ya drawing?” he stated, deciding to join her “interest” in the drawing Maybe that’ll get her talkin’.
“My replacement!” she answered in a low, sulking voice.
“Your replacement?” he looked towards the paper sprawled out in front of her, but it was hard to tell what it was since it was half hidden in shadow under the desk, “What do ya mean: Replacement?”
Yachiru tossed the paper from under the desk toward Kenpachi before she answered him:
“That stupid child, Soi-chan’s giving you!”
The drawing was face down on the floor. Kenpachi reached out and picked it up; he turned the article over and held it up for a better look. Yachiru illustration showed a small boy holding a stuffed toy in his arms, little flowers surrounded him and a childish smile was drawn across his face. This is Yachiru’s version of me and Soi’s kid? Holy crap is she confused ‘bout how it works!
“I knew it was too dark for ya under that desk, Yachiru.” He said after he finished examining the page.
“What?” she looked at him still huddled in her dark space.
Kenpachi turned the paper so that she could see it and pointed at the boy’s hair in the picture. “Why the heck is his hair blonde or yellow or whatever?”
Yachiru peered from under her hiding place, “I dunno, that’s just how he looks so don’t ask me, sheez.” She reached out her hand to take the drawing back.
“Aren’t ya finished with this?” he asked, surprised that she wanted it back. She never wanted a drawing back once she was done, she either wanted it displayed right away or she gave it to someone (mostly Kenpachi).
“Nope!” She replied. He placed it back in her small extended palm and watched her retreat completely under the desk again. She began looking around her stack of crayons, searching for one it seemed she couldn’t find. “Ken-chan,” she whined, “I need a crayon.”
Kenpachi sighed, “Which one?”
“Red!” she shouted with excitement. At least she’s not too mad anymore, he thought as he got up to retrieve her red crayon from a drawer. When he found it, he walked back and kneeled down on one knee to hand it to her.
Yachiru took the narrow, red, drawing tool from her captain’s hand with a smile. The same picture of the blonde child lay on the floor in front of her. Yachiru wrapped her fingers tightly around her crayon, only the point protruding from her clenched hand as she raised it above her head. With the sound of a warrior cry, she brought her arm down and stabbed at the paper, smearing layers of red wax across the boy’s face and body. Kenpachi stayed kneeling down and let her continue with her brutal “coloring”. She seemed to be enjoying herself as she continued to stab the paper mercilessly and slashed at it until it was covered in enough red streaks and holes to please her.
Suddenly, the smile that her face wore faded and she bowed her head low so that her eyes were hidden behind shadow. Kenpachi watched her intently, then she spoke; softly and a bit broken.
“Ken-chan, why do you wanna replace me?” she sniffed.
Zaraki was taken aback, how could she actually believe that?
“Che, gakki! Who the hell can replace a brat like you?”
“Really? You promise you won’t leave me, Ken-chan?” she said, her voice still a little quivery.
“Yachiru, I promise. Have I ever lied to ya before?” he leaned down lower to peer even more so inside the little “cave” she created.
The little “cave dweller” wiped her face on her robe sleeve, “. . . . No.” she replied and ran out to him.
************
Yamada Hanatarou made his way to 2nd squad headquarters alone. Although the squad members of this particular sect were intimidating, they never bothered him, well, most didn’t anyways. Yup, this would be an easy visit compared to those at 11th division; the young 4th squad member shuddered at the thought. Why did it always have to be 11th division that needed the most medical care? They are lucky the 4th division captain is as caring as she is, otherwise I don’t think my division would even bother with such high maintenance characters.
Hanatarou made his way through the gates and up the stairs. He was met there and brought inside. As he followed his guide, he looked around with curiosity; he had never been to second division before and there were plenty of distractions around every corner.
“In there.” His guide directed as he came to a door.
“Huh?” Hanatarou turned forward again, unaware that his company had stopped walking. “Ahhh . . “, the small boy slammed into the sturdy body in front of him and fell back onto the ground with a thud.
“Owwwww.” He moaned, rubbing at his head. “Ah, sumimasen!” he exclaimed with excitement as he scrambled back onto his feet and offered repeated bows to the man.The man just gave a roll of his eyes and sighed as he kneeled low on the ground, facing the front of a closed door. Hanatarou was surprised to see that the inscription for this particular room was marked as the Captain’s:
Soi Fong, Taichou
2nd division
The man raised his voice in announcement, “Sumimasen, Soi Fong taichou. A 4th division member has arrived to see you.”
“Hai, come in.” Hanatarou thought the voice on the other side of the door sounded tired.
The man reached up and slid the door open for Hanatarou to enter and closed the door with a small thud once he crossed the doorway.
“Yamada Hanatarou.” Soi Fong exclaimed a little surprised.
“Hai,” he bowed down in respect as well as out of habit, “at your service, Soi Fong taichou.” He finished shyly. As he straightened up he spotted the wound on her wrist; now in clear sight in the white robe she wore. He grabbed his bag from his shoulderes and made his way towars her.
“Your hand, how did that happen?” Soi Fong couldn’t help but feel touched to hear concern in his voice, but she didn’t care to answer his question:
“If you don’t mind, I’d rather keep it confidential. I just need you to attend to it for me with out question.”
“Of course.” He gestured for her to sit down on the mats. As he examined her hand to prepare the proper dressing for it, he couldn’t help but notice how familiar the style of the cut was . . .
“Well, Soi Fong taichou, it isn’t very deep but it does need attention or it could end up being more serious.” He smiled with reassurance.
Soi Fong didn’t say a word as he cleaned and dressed the wound on her wrist as carefully as he could, he didn’t mind the silence; it made him less nervous- he could never concentrate on what he was doing if there was too much to distract him.
“There’s one more.” Soi stated as he finished wrapping her arm.
Hanatarou blushed with discomfort as Soi worked her arms out of her robes to uncover her body waist-up. As nervous a person as Hana was, he was relieved to see that Soi had a white cloth wrapped around her chest. Still, he couldn’t help but blush with embarrassment.
Soi Fong lay down on her side, and gently lowered her head to rest on her hands. She took to thinking quietly again as Hanatarou worked on healing the second injury. For the 4th division student, this wound too played with his memory, tugging at the same spot in his mind that the first wound had. Unfortunately, having to heal her hand quickly didn’t give him the opportunity to examine it longer and allow his memory a chance to recollect. Upon wrapping the last bandage on her wrist, he had already cast his thought aside, but wonderment was evoked once again from the sight of the second cut on Soi Fong’s side. The flesh was cut with jagged, uneven, patterns (like teeth) and the line it formed seemed to move downwards; from her ribs towards her belly. The small healer jumped with fright as he quickly checked the reiatsu for a sign . . . Thank goddness, he sighed with relief. The child’s okay.
With reassurance, Hanatarou hurried with his original task and hoped his patient hadn’t noticed his actions. It really wasn’t his business, he thought, I could get in trouble. Still, he couldn’t help but worry. As he worked, a part of his mind kept busy at trying to place the familiarity of the wounds. Hmmmm, jagged cut, downward motion, a fast hit . . . but it’s not very deep and that’s what makes it unfamiliar and the memory starts to fade. I’ll just ignore that for now. Jagged . . . downward, fast . . . jagged . . . downward . . . fast, jagged . . . down . . . wait! Chotto matte! . . . The nameless zanpakutou? But that’s . . .
“You knew, didn’t you?” Soi Fong finally spoke, startling the small healer out of his thoughts. She hadn’t spoken in a while and the sudden break in the quiet that filled the room surprised him greatly.
“Ah . . .ahh. Sumimasen, Soi Fong Taichou but, uhhh, what do you mean?” He said timidly.
“Back in the 4th division unit. This morning. You looked at me as if you knew something I didn’t.” She moved carefully so she could look over her shoulder at him and not aggravate her injury at the same time.
“Ah . . . umm . . . hai!” he nodded, his gesture resembling more of a bow than anything.
Soi Fong looked at him for a moment longer before she turned to lie back down as Hanatarou began to apply the bandages.
“You have quite a talent, Hanatarou.” She spoke quietly but warmly to him.
“Huh? Oh. It’s really not that hard. Unohana-taichou taught me well and you’re not the first girl, er . . . woman, in this condition, that I’ve been around so I’ve learned the spiritual signs pretty quickly.”
“Tell me.” she began, “Of these other women that have been in this . . . uh . . . condition. Has there ever been a case in which the father was from, say: the Rukongai district?” she finished her question rather shyly, hoping Hanatarou might be helpful with the issue.
“No.” he finally said, shaking his head, “it’s impossible.”
After hearing this, Soi Fong felt a small fear, thinking she would never find an explanation.
“But,” Hanatarou started up again, “I do know of one incident where a noble and his Rukongai wife gave birth to a baby boy. It only happened once that I know of; nobles don’t normally mix with non-nobles.” He stated humbly, “This was a rare case. Eto . . .” Hanatarou paused for a moment, arching a brow and squinting his eyes- an exaggerated expression that made it obvious he was thinking. Finally Hanatarou jumped up with delight when he remembered a name he was searching for:
“Ah! Hisana, Kuchiki Hisana was the mother.”
Anime: *that clear liquid in a bottle* BLEACH, it does a body good
Characters: Zaraki Kenpachi/ Soi Fong
Warnings: NC-17 for smut and some language for ch.3/4 and later chapters
Disclaimer: Tite Kubo owns Bleach as well as the characters used in this fanfic *and I love him for it*
( chapter 1 ) ( chapter 4 )
( chapter 2 ) ( chapter 5 )
( chapter 3 ) ( chapter 6 )
Chapter 7 Sound of Bells
soi fong/zaraki kenpachi
“Kenpachi,” he was relieved to hear her call him by that name again, “Kenpachi,” she started again, moving close to him. She reached out her uninjured hand and lightly caressed his hand with her fingertips, his fingers jumped in response and moved to entwine with hers. He admired the feel of how small her hand felt in his as she continued:
“Kenpachi, I’m pregnant . . . going to have a baby, expecting, with child, how ever you say it, no matter how you say it- I’m that . . . . And with you . . . I am.” the movement of the hand that held hers, stopped stirring
Before Kenpachi could answer, a third voice, a small voice, interrupted the discussion, “WHAT!”
Yachiru stood only feet away in total shock.
Zaraki Kenpachi’s chance to react would have to wait, his attention now turned to the small pink haired girl who looked as if she was about to cry- something she rarely ever did, even when she was a baby, she hadn’t even cried then.
Now that he saw the hurt in his fukutaichou’s face he couldn’t stand it; he kept her smiling her whole life and as long as he was around he had planned to keep it that way.
“Yachiru,” he started, moving towards her a few steps.
Yachiru took a step back from him. “Don’t . . .” she wailed.
With angered tearful eyes, the young fukutaichou turned away and was gone in a flash, a cloud of dust trailing behind her path was all that lingered.
Soi Fong stood with eyes fixed on the ground, not knowing what else to say. She already said everything she needed too, anything else wouldn’t matter.
“Should I go after her?” Kenpachi turned his head to the side to look back at her, “you know the entire 11th division will know if I don’t.”
Soi Fong shook her head, eyes still focused on the floor. “It won’t matter. All of Serietei will know in nine months or so anyways . . . . so why delay it.”
Kenpachi faced forward again, looking at the now settling dust. He waited for a minute longer, both kept silent, until all traces of Yachiru’s ‘mad dash’ had dissolved.
He turned back around to face Soi Fong, still standing in the exact same spot where she hadn’t moved from. This time, as he approached her, she raised her gaze to meet him, following him until he stood in front of her again.
For a moment he studied the petite woman in quietness, a stern look in his expression. Say something, she thought. But he couldn’t; he didn’t know what to say, a contradiction to the several thoughts that raced through his mind: is that the explanation for the reiatsu fluctuations she’s had lately? Is it even possible . . . someone like me . . . from rukongai? Anyways, She don’t look it, pregnant I mean; her stomach’s still flat, not like those knocked up noble women I’d seen in Sereitei.
Soi Fong stood, wondering if he would ever say anything to her, wondering if she would be able to handle the tension any longer, Kenpachi, say something . . . anything . . .
“Bakkero! Why the hell did you fight me then? Are you outta your mind, woman? And why the hell did you let me cut ya?!” He pointed to her wounds, now dark red from the start of healing. Soi examined the cuts, having been so overwhelmed by emotion, she had almost forgotten about it. She placed her focus back to him once again:
“Listen,” she started, “I wouldn’t have if I didn’t think I could defend myself. And despite this baby throwing my reiatsu out of balance, I did pretty well.” She smirked at him and found it quite comical that he looked so serious and yet was covered with butterfly shaped designs. “Any ways,” she continued, “don’t even start with me; the homonka you’re sporting speaks for itself, maybe if you spent sometime learning how to dodge you wouldn’t look like a giant target post right now.” She laughed.
“Oh really? That’s funny cause for such a ‘giant target post’ you never even tried to hit me in the same spot twice.” He grinned.
“. . . Shut up!” she pouted, “and stop looking so pleased with yourself, idiot!”
“Yare, yare, Soi Fong- you sure are vicious for a pregnant lady.”
“Urasai!” she snapped at the teasing captain, her back already turned to him as she looked around for Suzumebachi. The weapon wasn’t far off and she walked over to retrieve the zanpakutou. She picked it up off the ground and placed the blade back into its blue sheath. As she began to dust it off, two strong arms from behind her wrapped themselves around her shoulders and held her tightly. Zaraki bowed his head down to rest his chin on the top of her head, his eyes closed as he though for a minute before he finally spoke.
“uhh . . .I . . . I’m sorry. I’ll take care of ya, you know tha. Well, I mean . . . I know you can take care of yourself but . . . I would like to also, if that even makes sense.” Her cheeks felt warm suddenly and she felt thankful that he couldn’t see her face; that she wasn’t facing him as he said this - she always hated the fact that her blushing was so apparent, such a nuisance, she sighed to herself.
She thought about what he had just said, and he was right: she did know he would take care of her, that’s just who Zaraki Kenpachi was, she felt it during their first night together when he held her so protectively, he had taken Yachiru under his care, looked out for Ikkaku, Yumichika, probably others. It comforted her to know and hear it but at the same time she was saddened by it. Why?
He slowly loosened his embrace on her and dragged his hands back up onto both her shoulders, turning her around so he could look at her. Soi didn’t raise her eyes to him until she felt his gaze on her face.
“Is that okay with ya?” he asked with sincerity.
“Hai.” She whispered with a small nod as she wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face in his chest. She felt so much like her old self; before she was 2nd squad captain, even before Yoruichi’s departure, but she didn’t feel like fighting it this time, a part of her felt like letting it stay…at least for a little while. She felt her eyes grow hot and wet and her hands clutched at Zaraki’s back, fingers burring themselves in the fabric of his haori.
In response, Kenpachi wrapped his arms around her. His arms, hands and sleeves were able to cover her bare shoulders and back, down to her waist. He felt her tremble, apparently from silent tears but didn’t say a word about it- knowing her too well by now to know that it was best to not draw attention to it. Zaraki felt content where he stood holding the small captain. He knew he was going to have to deal with Yachiru and the rest of 11th division later, not to mention Yamamoto; the one who ran soul society now, but really- who couldn’t he handle?. He decided to deal with it all later, now was for Soi. He suddenly wanted to ask her something as a thought entered his mind but wasn’t quite able to bring himself to do so, not just yet anyways. Instead, he changed his mind to something else; an inquiry that had flooded his mind when he had just found out that he and Soi Fong had conceived a child:
“How is this even possible?” he asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe you’re a freak.” She said, her voice slightly muffled by the body and cloth she held herself close to.
“Heh, feeling better already, are we?” he stated jokingly.
“No . . .” she answered, not wanting to let go as she tightened her grip on him.
************
Soi Fong arrived back at 2nd division headquarters not looking like she should have if she were coming back from 4th divisions care, like planned. Fortunately, most of 2nd division was done with the morning training so very few were lingering outside around the court yard.
She walked inside to find Omaeda lounging like the lazy bum that he was- nothing new. He had been talking and laughing with another 2nd squad member when his captain entered the room. Both jumped up to their feet in unison, and bowed low.
“Konnichiwa, Taichou!” they greeted her
“Ah.” She sounded, with little interest.
Omaeda straightened up, “Are you feeling well now, tai . . .chou . . .?” Both shinigami’s grew silent from the sight of her. The usually well-kept 2nd captain made her way across the room, a layer of dust covering her, some tears in her robes, and her hair out of place. She wore her haori opened; untied by its usual yellow scarf that now hung down her shoulders. As she moved, the sides of her haori flapped open with each step, revealing the red gash across her side; a match to the one Omaeda spotted next on her arm.
Both men stood gawking in shock and alarm at their taichou who stopped mid-way into the room and turned her head to look at her fukutaichou. She ignored the expression on his face, an expression quite similar to the one wore by the squad member standing next to him.
“Omaeda, have a 4th division squad member sent over.” She instructed.
“Ummm, taichou, are you sure? It dosen’t look like 4th division is working for you: you look worse now than you did before.” His companion nodded in agreement.
Soi Fong pressed her fingers to her forehead, “Omaeda, you make my head hurt. Just send someone over.”
“Hai.”
Two pairs of eyes followed the second squad leader out the room.
“Do me a favor, Omaeda,” his friend finally spoke up after the captain was out of sight, “if I need medical attention, don’t send me to 4th division, I don’t think I could handle it.”
*************
Zaraki Kenpachi went in search of Yachiru, already knowing where to find his lieutenant. If she was the Yachiru he knew, she would be “hiding” in his office under the desk- a place that completely defeated the purpose of hiding as he had told her countless times, and for all those numerous times, the young girl would insist he was wrong.
Entering his office and closing the door, Kenpachi followed the predicted trail of crayons, two small sandals, and some candy wrappers, that lead to his desk. As he drew close he could hear the sounds of quiet mumbling and the dull scratching sounds of her drawing.
Kenpachi circled the desk noticing the evidence of her actions: she had crawled into the hallow place of the furniture and pulled the chair back in place to block it off. Zaraki took hold of the chair and slid it back, away from the desk. He sat down in it and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his arms relaxed and hands meeting together; knuckles somewhat touching. In this position he was able to see his fukutaichou easier. She, however, didn’t make an attempt to react as if she had even noticed him come into the room; instead she continued a whispered hum and focused, seeming completely fixated, on her drawing.
Zaraki Kenpachi watched his “daughter” examine each crayon with squinting eyes before she applied the colored wax to the paper.
“Maybe you should come on outta there, Yachiru. You can’t see a damn thing under there; s’no light.”
The tiny girl grew silent and turned her eyes on him, a pouting expression on her face. For the time she was turned to him he just watched her, waiting for a response, but after a brief moment, Yachiru just turned back to her drawing and continued her humming.
“What ‘er ya drawing?” he stated, deciding to join her “interest” in the drawing Maybe that’ll get her talkin’.
“My replacement!” she answered in a low, sulking voice.
“Your replacement?” he looked towards the paper sprawled out in front of her, but it was hard to tell what it was since it was half hidden in shadow under the desk, “What do ya mean: Replacement?”
Yachiru tossed the paper from under the desk toward Kenpachi before she answered him:
“That stupid child, Soi-chan’s giving you!”
The drawing was face down on the floor. Kenpachi reached out and picked it up; he turned the article over and held it up for a better look. Yachiru illustration showed a small boy holding a stuffed toy in his arms, little flowers surrounded him and a childish smile was drawn across his face. This is Yachiru’s version of me and Soi’s kid? Holy crap is she confused ‘bout how it works!
“I knew it was too dark for ya under that desk, Yachiru.” He said after he finished examining the page.
“What?” she looked at him still huddled in her dark space.
Kenpachi turned the paper so that she could see it and pointed at the boy’s hair in the picture. “Why the heck is his hair blonde or yellow or whatever?”
Yachiru peered from under her hiding place, “I dunno, that’s just how he looks so don’t ask me, sheez.” She reached out her hand to take the drawing back.
“Aren’t ya finished with this?” he asked, surprised that she wanted it back. She never wanted a drawing back once she was done, she either wanted it displayed right away or she gave it to someone (mostly Kenpachi).
“Nope!” She replied. He placed it back in her small extended palm and watched her retreat completely under the desk again. She began looking around her stack of crayons, searching for one it seemed she couldn’t find. “Ken-chan,” she whined, “I need a crayon.”
Kenpachi sighed, “Which one?”
“Red!” she shouted with excitement. At least she’s not too mad anymore, he thought as he got up to retrieve her red crayon from a drawer. When he found it, he walked back and kneeled down on one knee to hand it to her.
Yachiru took the narrow, red, drawing tool from her captain’s hand with a smile. The same picture of the blonde child lay on the floor in front of her. Yachiru wrapped her fingers tightly around her crayon, only the point protruding from her clenched hand as she raised it above her head. With the sound of a warrior cry, she brought her arm down and stabbed at the paper, smearing layers of red wax across the boy’s face and body. Kenpachi stayed kneeling down and let her continue with her brutal “coloring”. She seemed to be enjoying herself as she continued to stab the paper mercilessly and slashed at it until it was covered in enough red streaks and holes to please her.
Suddenly, the smile that her face wore faded and she bowed her head low so that her eyes were hidden behind shadow. Kenpachi watched her intently, then she spoke; softly and a bit broken.
“Ken-chan, why do you wanna replace me?” she sniffed.
Zaraki was taken aback, how could she actually believe that?
“Che, gakki! Who the hell can replace a brat like you?”
“Really? You promise you won’t leave me, Ken-chan?” she said, her voice still a little quivery.
“Yachiru, I promise. Have I ever lied to ya before?” he leaned down lower to peer even more so inside the little “cave” she created.
The little “cave dweller” wiped her face on her robe sleeve, “. . . . No.” she replied and ran out to him.
************
Yamada Hanatarou made his way to 2nd squad headquarters alone. Although the squad members of this particular sect were intimidating, they never bothered him, well, most didn’t anyways. Yup, this would be an easy visit compared to those at 11th division; the young 4th squad member shuddered at the thought. Why did it always have to be 11th division that needed the most medical care? They are lucky the 4th division captain is as caring as she is, otherwise I don’t think my division would even bother with such high maintenance characters.
Hanatarou made his way through the gates and up the stairs. He was met there and brought inside. As he followed his guide, he looked around with curiosity; he had never been to second division before and there were plenty of distractions around every corner.
“In there.” His guide directed as he came to a door.
“Huh?” Hanatarou turned forward again, unaware that his company had stopped walking. “Ahhh . . “, the small boy slammed into the sturdy body in front of him and fell back onto the ground with a thud.
“Owwwww.” He moaned, rubbing at his head. “Ah, sumimasen!” he exclaimed with excitement as he scrambled back onto his feet and offered repeated bows to the man.The man just gave a roll of his eyes and sighed as he kneeled low on the ground, facing the front of a closed door. Hanatarou was surprised to see that the inscription for this particular room was marked as the Captain’s:
Soi Fong, Taichou
2nd division
The man raised his voice in announcement, “Sumimasen, Soi Fong taichou. A 4th division member has arrived to see you.”
“Hai, come in.” Hanatarou thought the voice on the other side of the door sounded tired.
The man reached up and slid the door open for Hanatarou to enter and closed the door with a small thud once he crossed the doorway.
“Yamada Hanatarou.” Soi Fong exclaimed a little surprised.
“Hai,” he bowed down in respect as well as out of habit, “at your service, Soi Fong taichou.” He finished shyly. As he straightened up he spotted the wound on her wrist; now in clear sight in the white robe she wore. He grabbed his bag from his shoulderes and made his way towars her.
“Your hand, how did that happen?” Soi Fong couldn’t help but feel touched to hear concern in his voice, but she didn’t care to answer his question:
“If you don’t mind, I’d rather keep it confidential. I just need you to attend to it for me with out question.”
“Of course.” He gestured for her to sit down on the mats. As he examined her hand to prepare the proper dressing for it, he couldn’t help but notice how familiar the style of the cut was . . .
“Well, Soi Fong taichou, it isn’t very deep but it does need attention or it could end up being more serious.” He smiled with reassurance.
Soi Fong didn’t say a word as he cleaned and dressed the wound on her wrist as carefully as he could, he didn’t mind the silence; it made him less nervous- he could never concentrate on what he was doing if there was too much to distract him.
“There’s one more.” Soi stated as he finished wrapping her arm.
Hanatarou blushed with discomfort as Soi worked her arms out of her robes to uncover her body waist-up. As nervous a person as Hana was, he was relieved to see that Soi had a white cloth wrapped around her chest. Still, he couldn’t help but blush with embarrassment.
Soi Fong lay down on her side, and gently lowered her head to rest on her hands. She took to thinking quietly again as Hanatarou worked on healing the second injury. For the 4th division student, this wound too played with his memory, tugging at the same spot in his mind that the first wound had. Unfortunately, having to heal her hand quickly didn’t give him the opportunity to examine it longer and allow his memory a chance to recollect. Upon wrapping the last bandage on her wrist, he had already cast his thought aside, but wonderment was evoked once again from the sight of the second cut on Soi Fong’s side. The flesh was cut with jagged, uneven, patterns (like teeth) and the line it formed seemed to move downwards; from her ribs towards her belly. The small healer jumped with fright as he quickly checked the reiatsu for a sign . . . Thank goddness, he sighed with relief. The child’s okay.
With reassurance, Hanatarou hurried with his original task and hoped his patient hadn’t noticed his actions. It really wasn’t his business, he thought, I could get in trouble. Still, he couldn’t help but worry. As he worked, a part of his mind kept busy at trying to place the familiarity of the wounds. Hmmmm, jagged cut, downward motion, a fast hit . . . but it’s not very deep and that’s what makes it unfamiliar and the memory starts to fade. I’ll just ignore that for now. Jagged . . . downward, fast . . . jagged . . . downward . . . fast, jagged . . . down . . . wait! Chotto matte! . . . The nameless zanpakutou? But that’s . . .
“You knew, didn’t you?” Soi Fong finally spoke, startling the small healer out of his thoughts. She hadn’t spoken in a while and the sudden break in the quiet that filled the room surprised him greatly.
“Ah . . .ahh. Sumimasen, Soi Fong Taichou but, uhhh, what do you mean?” He said timidly.
“Back in the 4th division unit. This morning. You looked at me as if you knew something I didn’t.” She moved carefully so she could look over her shoulder at him and not aggravate her injury at the same time.
“Ah . . . umm . . . hai!” he nodded, his gesture resembling more of a bow than anything.
Soi Fong looked at him for a moment longer before she turned to lie back down as Hanatarou began to apply the bandages.
“You have quite a talent, Hanatarou.” She spoke quietly but warmly to him.
“Huh? Oh. It’s really not that hard. Unohana-taichou taught me well and you’re not the first girl, er . . . woman, in this condition, that I’ve been around so I’ve learned the spiritual signs pretty quickly.”
“Tell me.” she began, “Of these other women that have been in this . . . uh . . . condition. Has there ever been a case in which the father was from, say: the Rukongai district?” she finished her question rather shyly, hoping Hanatarou might be helpful with the issue.
“No.” he finally said, shaking his head, “it’s impossible.”
After hearing this, Soi Fong felt a small fear, thinking she would never find an explanation.
“But,” Hanatarou started up again, “I do know of one incident where a noble and his Rukongai wife gave birth to a baby boy. It only happened once that I know of; nobles don’t normally mix with non-nobles.” He stated humbly, “This was a rare case. Eto . . .” Hanatarou paused for a moment, arching a brow and squinting his eyes- an exaggerated expression that made it obvious he was thinking. Finally Hanatarou jumped up with delight when he remembered a name he was searching for:
“Ah! Hisana, Kuchiki Hisana was the mother.”