Beauty of the Night {Kenpachi + first!Yachiru}
Title: Beauty of the Night
Fandom: Bleach
Characters/Pairing: Kenpachi, the first Yachiru
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,225
Summary: He has never known beauty until now.
A/N: Pre-series. Written for prompt #3: a beautiful night, Table 5 (5_prompts).
Who knew such a sight could exist within this shithole?
As the usual stink of blood and rotten corpses swept over him on the cool night breeze, he watched as the moon, full and bright with a glowing shade of silver, bathed the streets of the 80th District in its ethereal light.
Sure, this was like any other night to many, but to him, it was one that he never thought of witnessing. It was always him alone, and during times like these, he would either be deep in a sleep plagued by ghouls and demons, or still hunting for prey within the scattered forests. Sometimes though, he would find himself beheading another nosy bastard, relishing yet at the same time feeling disgust at the sight of the murder.
He didn't know what compelled him to do such things. Killings, murders, assassinations - they were just innate abilities of his. As if he came into this afterlife born with the hand of slaughter. On occasion, he would see himself as a bloodthirsty samurai back during his living years, or maybe even a ronin who didn't bow to anyone on pain of death.
He thought about all those things - murder, blood, corpses, demons, death. Never was there room for beauty. No one could really blame him though. His world, since the first time he opened his eyes, was bathed in red. That was all he ever knew.
Until now.
"Beautiful night, isn't it?" she said, and he turned at the sound of her voice. It was sweet, unlike anything he had ever heard before. The ever constant breeze threatened to block out her soft tone, but however much he wanted to move closer to her, he restrained himself.
He was a man, and a pretty little thing like her, in this district, could only get so far.
But of course, he wasn't one of those cheap dicks hanging around the place. He never really concerned himself with matters in regards to desire, as the only desire he ever felt was that of battle. The lust for blood, the call of his blade to fight, was the strongest motivation he could ever experience. There certainly wasn't room for females.
There was also a question of fear. Many, if not all, women around these parts didn't dare come within a twenty feet radius from him. Which was just as well because women were big pains - weaklings who could do nothing but wait at home for their men.
So to have a young woman beside him - a lady - wasn't something that he thought would ever happen to him.
She turned away from the moon and, upon catching his eyes, gave him a smile that made his heart skip a beat. With a grimace, he looked away, unwilling to bend. His hands gripped his knees tightly, suppressing the urge to release his sword and stab her with it. He didn't know what it was, but there was just something about her that made him want to sweep her up into his arms, protect her from the horrors of this vile place. And that, somehow, irritated him.
Maybe it was the way she seemed so innocent, oblivious to the true ways of the world, that beguiled him. That easy smile, the way her eyes lit up with just the littlest of pleasures, her unassuming expression - they were nothing like what he was used to. Here, everyone was enemies, suspicious of each other and always living in fear.
But however foreign that appeared to him, he found that he quite liked it. A rather fresh perspective of the world, a more optimistic one.
However, that sort of optimism was a killer. He survived this shithole through suspicion and power, equipped with strength that made people fear him. If he allowed himself to be involved with this woman, he was certain that his guard would falter.
There was no way in hell would he ever let that happen.
And so, without further ado and a word of goodbye, he rose to his feet. But before he could climb down from the roof, the slight warmth that wrapped itself around his wrist froze him in place. It was hard not to look back, and with all his willpower, he kept his eyes fixated upon the dark forest below him.
"Past your bedtime?" There was a slightly teasing note in her voice that, oddly enough, amused him. "Need me to walk you home?"
He tugged his hand out of her grasp with a threatening growl. "Like I need protection from some woman."
"All right, all right," she held up her hands, palms toward him, and shrugged. "Was just trying to be helpful."
With a condescending scoff, he turned on his heel and hopped off the roof, landing neatly on the dirt ground. But he found that his legs wouldn't move, that he just couldn't rip himself away from the little hut upon which he had once been sitting with some company. A company that he never thought he would have the pleasure of knowing.
He stayed there, under the shade of the roof, hidden from the moonlight by shadows as black as tar. The only sounds to his ears were the merry chatters of crickets all around him, as if paying tribute to the full moon. In the distance, a wolf howled a chilling note, followed by a few others who so eagerly answered the call of the wild.
And then he heard a howl from above him, right on the roof. He gave a start, hand on the hilt of his blade, but after a moment he realized that it wasn't an animal. It was she calling out to the wolves, masquerading as a beast herself. He wrinkled his nose in puzzlement, withdrawing his hand so that it rested back at his side.
Still he couldn't pull away.
When the howls faded back into the night, she stopped. And then she started humming. It was a little flat at first, but then once she got hold of herself, the night of crickets filled with a sweet melody that otherwise could never be heard within the 80th District. He found himself entranced, his head unconsciously tilted to the side as he listened in on her. It was a song that he had no recollection of - but then again, he wasn't learned in the ways of music. That made it all the more worthwhile anyway. Such a simple melody, but it pulled at his heartstrings, and he was certain that it was a tune fit for a king.
He climbed back up onto the roof, catching her by surprise. The humming ceased abruptly as she stared wide-eyed at him.
"Thought…you were asleep?"
He shrugged and then sat down cross-legged beside her, a little closer than usual this time. He had to contain his pleasure when she didn't make a move to recoil from him.
"I just went off to take a piss," he said, and then cast her a sideways glare. "Keep that shit up. I'm sick of hearin' these stupid insects every night."
She blinked in confusion, but didn't protest.
Beautiful night my ass, he mused as she carried on her humming.
But as the cool breeze swept through the deserted streets, the smile that graced his rough features was one that he could never deny.
Fandom: Bleach
Characters/Pairing: Kenpachi, the first Yachiru
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,225
Summary: He has never known beauty until now.
A/N: Pre-series. Written for prompt #3: a beautiful night, Table 5 (5_prompts).
Who knew such a sight could exist within this shithole?
As the usual stink of blood and rotten corpses swept over him on the cool night breeze, he watched as the moon, full and bright with a glowing shade of silver, bathed the streets of the 80th District in its ethereal light.
Sure, this was like any other night to many, but to him, it was one that he never thought of witnessing. It was always him alone, and during times like these, he would either be deep in a sleep plagued by ghouls and demons, or still hunting for prey within the scattered forests. Sometimes though, he would find himself beheading another nosy bastard, relishing yet at the same time feeling disgust at the sight of the murder.
He didn't know what compelled him to do such things. Killings, murders, assassinations - they were just innate abilities of his. As if he came into this afterlife born with the hand of slaughter. On occasion, he would see himself as a bloodthirsty samurai back during his living years, or maybe even a ronin who didn't bow to anyone on pain of death.
He thought about all those things - murder, blood, corpses, demons, death. Never was there room for beauty. No one could really blame him though. His world, since the first time he opened his eyes, was bathed in red. That was all he ever knew.
Until now.
"Beautiful night, isn't it?" she said, and he turned at the sound of her voice. It was sweet, unlike anything he had ever heard before. The ever constant breeze threatened to block out her soft tone, but however much he wanted to move closer to her, he restrained himself.
He was a man, and a pretty little thing like her, in this district, could only get so far.
But of course, he wasn't one of those cheap dicks hanging around the place. He never really concerned himself with matters in regards to desire, as the only desire he ever felt was that of battle. The lust for blood, the call of his blade to fight, was the strongest motivation he could ever experience. There certainly wasn't room for females.
There was also a question of fear. Many, if not all, women around these parts didn't dare come within a twenty feet radius from him. Which was just as well because women were big pains - weaklings who could do nothing but wait at home for their men.
So to have a young woman beside him - a lady - wasn't something that he thought would ever happen to him.
She turned away from the moon and, upon catching his eyes, gave him a smile that made his heart skip a beat. With a grimace, he looked away, unwilling to bend. His hands gripped his knees tightly, suppressing the urge to release his sword and stab her with it. He didn't know what it was, but there was just something about her that made him want to sweep her up into his arms, protect her from the horrors of this vile place. And that, somehow, irritated him.
Maybe it was the way she seemed so innocent, oblivious to the true ways of the world, that beguiled him. That easy smile, the way her eyes lit up with just the littlest of pleasures, her unassuming expression - they were nothing like what he was used to. Here, everyone was enemies, suspicious of each other and always living in fear.
But however foreign that appeared to him, he found that he quite liked it. A rather fresh perspective of the world, a more optimistic one.
However, that sort of optimism was a killer. He survived this shithole through suspicion and power, equipped with strength that made people fear him. If he allowed himself to be involved with this woman, he was certain that his guard would falter.
There was no way in hell would he ever let that happen.
And so, without further ado and a word of goodbye, he rose to his feet. But before he could climb down from the roof, the slight warmth that wrapped itself around his wrist froze him in place. It was hard not to look back, and with all his willpower, he kept his eyes fixated upon the dark forest below him.
"Past your bedtime?" There was a slightly teasing note in her voice that, oddly enough, amused him. "Need me to walk you home?"
He tugged his hand out of her grasp with a threatening growl. "Like I need protection from some woman."
"All right, all right," she held up her hands, palms toward him, and shrugged. "Was just trying to be helpful."
With a condescending scoff, he turned on his heel and hopped off the roof, landing neatly on the dirt ground. But he found that his legs wouldn't move, that he just couldn't rip himself away from the little hut upon which he had once been sitting with some company. A company that he never thought he would have the pleasure of knowing.
He stayed there, under the shade of the roof, hidden from the moonlight by shadows as black as tar. The only sounds to his ears were the merry chatters of crickets all around him, as if paying tribute to the full moon. In the distance, a wolf howled a chilling note, followed by a few others who so eagerly answered the call of the wild.
And then he heard a howl from above him, right on the roof. He gave a start, hand on the hilt of his blade, but after a moment he realized that it wasn't an animal. It was she calling out to the wolves, masquerading as a beast herself. He wrinkled his nose in puzzlement, withdrawing his hand so that it rested back at his side.
Still he couldn't pull away.
When the howls faded back into the night, she stopped. And then she started humming. It was a little flat at first, but then once she got hold of herself, the night of crickets filled with a sweet melody that otherwise could never be heard within the 80th District. He found himself entranced, his head unconsciously tilted to the side as he listened in on her. It was a song that he had no recollection of - but then again, he wasn't learned in the ways of music. That made it all the more worthwhile anyway. Such a simple melody, but it pulled at his heartstrings, and he was certain that it was a tune fit for a king.
He climbed back up onto the roof, catching her by surprise. The humming ceased abruptly as she stared wide-eyed at him.
"Thought…you were asleep?"
He shrugged and then sat down cross-legged beside her, a little closer than usual this time. He had to contain his pleasure when she didn't make a move to recoil from him.
"I just went off to take a piss," he said, and then cast her a sideways glare. "Keep that shit up. I'm sick of hearin' these stupid insects every night."
She blinked in confusion, but didn't protest.
Beautiful night my ass, he mused as she carried on her humming.
But as the cool breeze swept through the deserted streets, the smile that graced his rough features was one that he could never deny.