Paperwork {Kenpachi, Yachiru}
Title: Paperwork
Characters: Kenpachi, Yachiru
Rating: PG-15
Word count: 1,354
Summary: Much in constrast to an outsider's eye, Kenpachi does do paperwork, but often he's distracted by a certain brat who messes with his spikes, smacks his forehead, and sulks when he doesn't have time for her.
A/N: Wrote this while watching the royal wedding, a little one-shot to celebrate the occasion (congrats to Your Highnesses!). For Table 44 of 5_prompts (prompt 3: as I recall).
A jingle shattered the silence, followed closely by a soft giggle, and Kenpachi gripped his brush a little tighter. He could feel his own irritation threatening to burst through his skin, to break free and spill its wrath unto the barracks.
But no, he kept it down, restrained it, because another jingle cut through to him, and this time the childish laughter was louder, high-pitched and resounding in his right ear.
"Yachiru."
Another jingle, another cracked up little brat, and Kenpachi couldn't help but wheel his head around to glare up at the child.
"Stop it, Yachiru," he hissed, making a threatening gesture of poking her eye with the brush if she were to touch his bells again. "One more time an' I'll-"
She stuck out her tongue at him and, without even the slightest care for her own wellbeing, jabbed him in the eye. He jerked back, growling and swiping her hands away, but Yachiru grabbed his hair and pulled hard.
"What in the fuckin' hell's wrong with ye t'day, runt?"
"Somethin's wrong with you, Ken-chan!" She pinched his forehead, earning a hiss and a slap in return. "What're you doin' with all these papers? You're s'pposed to play with me! You're s'pposed to take me out to buy candy but you're inside here working instead!"
"I'm s'pposed to be workin', runt! That's what bein' a captain's all about." Kenpachi pried her fingers out of his hair, but she was persistent and when he thought he had won, she went on to pull his ears instead. "Runt! Stop it right the hell now or I swear I'll roast yer ass for dinner!"
"Ken-chan's bein' mean!" Yachiru smacked his forehead multiple times, as if she was playing a drum set. "Mean Ken-chan! Meeeeeean!"
"I swear to the fuckin' shit gods…" Kenpachi snarled and, grabbing the back of her collar, picked her off of his shoulders and dropped her onto the floor. Despite his height, she landed with cat-like ease. She looked up, stared at him as he sat back in his chair with a huff and continued with his paperwork.
Kenpachi forced himself not to look into her eyes. He knew that acknowledging the brat was a bad thing for him - since years before, she always had her way, and he was the one who had to put up with her antics and nonsense and whining. It was one thing to live with a brat, and another to force himself, a weathered warrior born in blood, to surrender to a small child. That, in and of itself, was utterly ridiculous.
"Ken-chan?" Yachiru spoke up after a long stretch of quiet. Her voice was low, hesitant even, very much in contrast to her previous squealing, and he was forced to look at her.
"What?" But he knew the answer before he even voiced the question.
For a short while that seemed very much like an hour, they both stared at each other, wide, striking pink orbs into menacing grey ones.
Yachiru was the one who broke the uncomfortable silence once again, turning on her heel and walking straight out of the office. The door closed with a soft click, and Kenpachi was left to stare at it, trying hard to douse the flame of guilt that was burning the sides of his heart right then and there.
Through the screams and shouts of his sparring underlings, Kenpachi gripped the brush tight until his knuckles turned stark white, and just when he thought his bones were going to tear through skin, he launched the brush across the office. It pierced the door and stuck fast, a memento of an angry captain.
"Goddamnit," was all he could spit out, a word nothing less than self-degrading.
What the hell was he thinking?
But then again, the brat had to learn her own lesson. Kenpachi was a captain, and so he needed to work. She needed to know that it was because of him that they didn't have to live out in the streets and sleep on the hard, dirty ground, that they had enough to eat and didn't have to starve.
It was because of this shitty job that they could finally live life without having to worry about food or clothes, or messed up bandits looking for an easy kill. They didn't have to fight to survive. He didn't have to sleep with an eye open to look out for her, to make sure that she was safe and didn't wander about in the dead of night to gods-knew-where.
Yachiru needed to know all that…but Kenpachi never had the guts to tell her that, if he were to shit his job and play with her instead, funds allocated to his division would be reduced due to his irresponsibility, leading to less food and upset underlings.
Kenpachi was certain that his squad members would never raise a finger against him if he were to feed them to vultures, but still, he had a whole team to care for now. These men were still his, and no matter how rough and tough they appeared to be, they still trusted him as their head.
It was no more "Ken-chan and 'Chiru" now. It was more like "Captain Zaraki and Lieutenant Kusajishi of the Eleventh Division." Sometimes he loathed the title, missed the old days when there wasn't much to worry about but the two of them.
But still, Yachiru was just a child.
Upon realization, Kenpachi gave himself a slap on the forehead, pushed his chair back and rose to his feet. For a moment, he caught himself staring down at the paperwork, at his meagre handwriting, but he abandoned it with a scoff. The brush in the door seemed to warn him that, if he were to leave the office, Yamamoto's zanpakuto would be stuck in his head like how the brush was currently caught in wood.
Kenpachi strode right past it with a smirk. "Fuck this bullshit."
It was in the quiet garden behind the barracks that he found her, sitting under a shady tree and scrawling in the dirt with a twig.
"Oi, runt."
Yachiru twitched at the sudden intrusion and hastily rubbed her eyes with her sleeve. Kenpachi was fast enough to catch a faint sniff, but he restrained himself and stood a ways from her just in case she didn't want him anywhere near.
"What're ye doin' there?"
She shrugged, her voice a small murmur, "Nothin'."
"Doesn't look like nothin' t'me."
"It's nothin'."
Kenpachi swallowed a scoff and looked around the garden for something to say. Of course, words didn't come easy to him, and the sunlit flowers weren't of much help. Finally, he allowed a sigh to escape his lips, soft and quiet, and lowered himself on one knee beside her.
"C'mon, runt," with some hesitation, he placed a hand on her head, "talk t'me."
"But you're busy."
"I ain't now." He flashed her a grin when she looked up at him, pushing back the ache that pierced his chest when he saw the hurt in her eyes, and ruffled her hair, a gesture that he knew she was fond of. "Let's go get some candy, eh? Like that?"
Yachiru stared at him for a moment, eyes wide, and an old tear that seemed to have been left behind by its peers escaped. With a finger, gentle and careful as if upon the slightest touch he would break her, Kenpachi wiped it away.
"Brat."
And Yachiru burst out into a fit of giggles that was somehow music to Kenpachi's ears. With a chuckle, he scooped her up in his arms and let her crawl all the way up to settle on his back, her rightful place.
"Let's go get that candy then." He raised a hand. "Ready?"
Yachiru slapped his palm with hers, giving him a high-five. "You bet'cha, Ken-chan!"
And Kenpachi was off, tearing through the Seireitei with Yachiru screaming directions in his ear, using his hair as reins to steer him, and he found that even getting lost was more fun than being stuck in the office with black and white bullshit.
Characters: Kenpachi, Yachiru
Rating: PG-15
Word count: 1,354
Summary: Much in constrast to an outsider's eye, Kenpachi does do paperwork, but often he's distracted by a certain brat who messes with his spikes, smacks his forehead, and sulks when he doesn't have time for her.
A/N: Wrote this while watching the royal wedding, a little one-shot to celebrate the occasion (congrats to Your Highnesses!). For Table 44 of 5_prompts (prompt 3: as I recall).
A jingle shattered the silence, followed closely by a soft giggle, and Kenpachi gripped his brush a little tighter. He could feel his own irritation threatening to burst through his skin, to break free and spill its wrath unto the barracks.
But no, he kept it down, restrained it, because another jingle cut through to him, and this time the childish laughter was louder, high-pitched and resounding in his right ear.
"Yachiru."
Another jingle, another cracked up little brat, and Kenpachi couldn't help but wheel his head around to glare up at the child.
"Stop it, Yachiru," he hissed, making a threatening gesture of poking her eye with the brush if she were to touch his bells again. "One more time an' I'll-"
She stuck out her tongue at him and, without even the slightest care for her own wellbeing, jabbed him in the eye. He jerked back, growling and swiping her hands away, but Yachiru grabbed his hair and pulled hard.
"What in the fuckin' hell's wrong with ye t'day, runt?"
"Somethin's wrong with you, Ken-chan!" She pinched his forehead, earning a hiss and a slap in return. "What're you doin' with all these papers? You're s'pposed to play with me! You're s'pposed to take me out to buy candy but you're inside here working instead!"
"I'm s'pposed to be workin', runt! That's what bein' a captain's all about." Kenpachi pried her fingers out of his hair, but she was persistent and when he thought he had won, she went on to pull his ears instead. "Runt! Stop it right the hell now or I swear I'll roast yer ass for dinner!"
"Ken-chan's bein' mean!" Yachiru smacked his forehead multiple times, as if she was playing a drum set. "Mean Ken-chan! Meeeeeean!"
"I swear to the fuckin' shit gods…" Kenpachi snarled and, grabbing the back of her collar, picked her off of his shoulders and dropped her onto the floor. Despite his height, she landed with cat-like ease. She looked up, stared at him as he sat back in his chair with a huff and continued with his paperwork.
Kenpachi forced himself not to look into her eyes. He knew that acknowledging the brat was a bad thing for him - since years before, she always had her way, and he was the one who had to put up with her antics and nonsense and whining. It was one thing to live with a brat, and another to force himself, a weathered warrior born in blood, to surrender to a small child. That, in and of itself, was utterly ridiculous.
"Ken-chan?" Yachiru spoke up after a long stretch of quiet. Her voice was low, hesitant even, very much in contrast to her previous squealing, and he was forced to look at her.
"What?" But he knew the answer before he even voiced the question.
For a short while that seemed very much like an hour, they both stared at each other, wide, striking pink orbs into menacing grey ones.
Yachiru was the one who broke the uncomfortable silence once again, turning on her heel and walking straight out of the office. The door closed with a soft click, and Kenpachi was left to stare at it, trying hard to douse the flame of guilt that was burning the sides of his heart right then and there.
Through the screams and shouts of his sparring underlings, Kenpachi gripped the brush tight until his knuckles turned stark white, and just when he thought his bones were going to tear through skin, he launched the brush across the office. It pierced the door and stuck fast, a memento of an angry captain.
"Goddamnit," was all he could spit out, a word nothing less than self-degrading.
What the hell was he thinking?
But then again, the brat had to learn her own lesson. Kenpachi was a captain, and so he needed to work. She needed to know that it was because of him that they didn't have to live out in the streets and sleep on the hard, dirty ground, that they had enough to eat and didn't have to starve.
It was because of this shitty job that they could finally live life without having to worry about food or clothes, or messed up bandits looking for an easy kill. They didn't have to fight to survive. He didn't have to sleep with an eye open to look out for her, to make sure that she was safe and didn't wander about in the dead of night to gods-knew-where.
Yachiru needed to know all that…but Kenpachi never had the guts to tell her that, if he were to shit his job and play with her instead, funds allocated to his division would be reduced due to his irresponsibility, leading to less food and upset underlings.
Kenpachi was certain that his squad members would never raise a finger against him if he were to feed them to vultures, but still, he had a whole team to care for now. These men were still his, and no matter how rough and tough they appeared to be, they still trusted him as their head.
It was no more "Ken-chan and 'Chiru" now. It was more like "Captain Zaraki and Lieutenant Kusajishi of the Eleventh Division." Sometimes he loathed the title, missed the old days when there wasn't much to worry about but the two of them.
But still, Yachiru was just a child.
Upon realization, Kenpachi gave himself a slap on the forehead, pushed his chair back and rose to his feet. For a moment, he caught himself staring down at the paperwork, at his meagre handwriting, but he abandoned it with a scoff. The brush in the door seemed to warn him that, if he were to leave the office, Yamamoto's zanpakuto would be stuck in his head like how the brush was currently caught in wood.
Kenpachi strode right past it with a smirk. "Fuck this bullshit."
It was in the quiet garden behind the barracks that he found her, sitting under a shady tree and scrawling in the dirt with a twig.
"Oi, runt."
Yachiru twitched at the sudden intrusion and hastily rubbed her eyes with her sleeve. Kenpachi was fast enough to catch a faint sniff, but he restrained himself and stood a ways from her just in case she didn't want him anywhere near.
"What're ye doin' there?"
She shrugged, her voice a small murmur, "Nothin'."
"Doesn't look like nothin' t'me."
"It's nothin'."
Kenpachi swallowed a scoff and looked around the garden for something to say. Of course, words didn't come easy to him, and the sunlit flowers weren't of much help. Finally, he allowed a sigh to escape his lips, soft and quiet, and lowered himself on one knee beside her.
"C'mon, runt," with some hesitation, he placed a hand on her head, "talk t'me."
"But you're busy."
"I ain't now." He flashed her a grin when she looked up at him, pushing back the ache that pierced his chest when he saw the hurt in her eyes, and ruffled her hair, a gesture that he knew she was fond of. "Let's go get some candy, eh? Like that?"
Yachiru stared at him for a moment, eyes wide, and an old tear that seemed to have been left behind by its peers escaped. With a finger, gentle and careful as if upon the slightest touch he would break her, Kenpachi wiped it away.
"Brat."
And Yachiru burst out into a fit of giggles that was somehow music to Kenpachi's ears. With a chuckle, he scooped her up in his arms and let her crawl all the way up to settle on his back, her rightful place.
"Let's go get that candy then." He raised a hand. "Ready?"
Yachiru slapped his palm with hers, giving him a high-five. "You bet'cha, Ken-chan!"
And Kenpachi was off, tearing through the Seireitei with Yachiru screaming directions in his ear, using his hair as reins to steer him, and he found that even getting lost was more fun than being stuck in the office with black and white bullshit.