“Ah, so old fart’s tha guilty of layin’ down effing examination” Level of depreciation he actually felt was high enough to send greenish eye rolling in full loathing circle before settled on Retsu’s face again. Looking at her Kenpachi let loose internal grim laughter, wondering what her words were meant to — these about caring and feeling fine. If she thought it would affect him in any way, a little error had been made. There couldn’t be a better information for 11th captain cause constant — forced — stay in hospital
cell room wasn’t the most enticing idea for spending free time. Nope.
“I still fail at seein’ any sense in goin’ on examination when I feel good” he snarled, reaching for one of towering piles of paperwork outflanking his desk like a rampart. “As ya see, I’m kinda busy an’ I don’t have time fer playin’ doctor.”
Process of getting attached couldn’t be called neither easy nor quick in his case. Usually as concerned as stone, before he reared up this tiny grain of attachment object of it was gone and he had been left with handful of care he didn’t have a foggiest idea what to do with. Once lively and green, frail sprout wilted and decayed; rotten in the ground tainted it irremediably so that growing up every next bond gained in difficulty more and more. Never being exceptionally tender and caring, Zaraki Kenpachi persistently avoided forming any bonds both with people and things. Not that he would ever give enough of shit about them, he simply tolerated sundry beings coming up here and there as something that just happens from time to time and there’s no choice but to deal with it. Even own zanpakutō, thing by vast majority of Shinigami hold almost in veneration, for him was only… a thing.
With one exception.
Corners of his lips curled upward into a bitter smile, how clashing with fondness so uncommon for these coarsened hands as they skimmed along the attrite material; ragged mounds grated against fingertips as they crossed splices and traced grid of crude seams in this languorous, almost subconscious drift. That beige haori, old and faded, was thing he just couldn’t say goodbye to regardless of actual efforts. So many memories were sealed in that eroded fabric…
How long she’s gone… Even memories, last remnants of her presence, began to fade away. Smoky timbre of her voice wasn’t echoing in his ears anymore. Outline of her body became blurred and distant, like a shadow looming in the corner of eye. He barely remembered her soft hazel glance, subtle scent of her skin, flickers of sunlight in these gingery tresses enfolding her shoulders… Little by little, everything was slipping down in the depths of oblivion — aside from one thing. Her touch, so different from only kind of contact he knew as yet, mesmerized him through and through; simple touch placed on his neck soothed that rough and untamed man, sometimes to the point where even whole bunch of animalistic instincts driving him wasn’t longer able to push him beyond last abattis of control straight into the fiery pits of carnal urges. This touch she imprinted into his skin, indelible, had to remain there to his final breath.
He never figured out why that strong and independent woman, who could perfectly look after herself even in such a hostile place, ever decided to share a roof with someone like Kenpachi. Living with him was far from being pleasurable. Stubborn and temperamental, rough and spiky, selfish and uncaring. Zaraki Kenpachi didn’t know how to display the affection, how to give her all that fondness she deserved, how to turn that new foreign feel thriving inside into something more substantial. How many times had seen tears in her eyes when he returned from another killing spree, not enough all mangled and bloodied yet more still burnt by once unleashed need to slice open and tear asunder — how many times only response she got from him was a dismissive shrug. Even if supposed her actions were coming from concern, how often annoyed by unending questions he lashed out hard and wasn’t even sorry, let alone such a needless thing as apologies. How many times she disappeared for days after another infernal row and he didn’t even give a fuck — she always returned. Yeah, they abused each other in the most disastrous ways, caught in vicious circle of their consensual slavery, yet kind of bond formed between these two how opposite beings thrown together by some private gravity. He couldn’t be called a saint, she also wasn’t an angel. There was a lot of things unsaid while should been said.
She never told. He never asked.
A matter of trust, you could say. The more hacked off he was when found out a great deal of fuckin’ marks straggled all over her body like a grotesque map. Unthinkable that she haven’t told him. Maybe her mild nature and resulting angst over his reaction was keeping her back from revealing the truth — as only one who knew Demon from Zaraki ins and outs she simply had to recognize that angry tingle in feeling of his skin. Some fucker had the nerve to lay a hand on what Zaraki Kenpachi considered as own and she was aware what it actually meant — shit got real and heavy bloodshed was going to go down. The more she laced up her mouth, the more leery and insistent he was getting, unable to live down being ignored or at the very outside fed with bullshit by one who once told that cares. They were standing on two brinks of still spreading rift, watching blandly as their world is coming down.
When he woke up one springtime morning, couldn’t feel familiar warmth of her body anymore. She walked away. Left him without even a single word of goodbye. Despite searing fury eating him up he didn’t chase her — still kept enough of care to respect her choice. There’s no one to call your own. Never.
He let her go.
DA FUCK IS THIS ALL SUPP’SED T’BE…?
The fuck’s this supposed to be.
Primo — I don’t ‘download’ these songs. All are linked from Youtube. And these are songs I listen to everyday, I don’t search them in any special treasure chest.
Secundo — I will not send any fucking links and any fucking names. Why would I do it? I don’t even know you and I don’t have a habit of doing things only cause somebody told me to. Quite the opposite. I don’t have time neither will to do it. If you enjoy songs, you always can listen to them here or move your ass and find them, fer example using these funny programs that identify songs.
Tertio — yes, I’m a dick.
HahhahhahaNOPE. My nickname is Pachi-Pachi. Ask Abarai B]