Kenpachi Zaraki x Reader - Bleach Ch. 3

Chapter III

Zaraki could not understand it; at least, not completely. In fact, no one did seem to understand what was going on as Yachiru was all too comfortable with you and asked you to do the things Mothers were supposed to do. With you, she was a normal child reliving her days of innocence once more, looking up at you with the kindest and sweetest regard. It was not strange anymore to see her sitting on your lap as you brushed her pink hair, asking you to read her a story or playing with you in the Seireitei, despite you were not allowed in there. If anything, your new place was not bound to servitude anymore but being her Mother, and what Yachiru wanted she always got.

He could not say you did a bad job; the little girl had been really happy to have you around and you seemed to have a soft spot for her— something he never thought anyone else could feel. Yachiru was not your average child, by any means, and she would be more than a handful for anyone that dared to even raise their voice with her, or give her the wrong look. Yet, with you she acted like a kitten instead of the ferocious feline he knew her to be. She would happily curl in a ball against you and close her eyes, simply enjoying the warmth you gave off.

There was this one occasion you told her off for not properly attending her duties, although with genuine concern. Needless to say that, at that moment, he thought Yachiru would throw a tantrum or something worse, but she merely gave you puppy eyes and told you that she was sorry to disappoint you. It was even more alarming when she started to cry and you were fussing around, carrying her in your arms as you tried to calm her down, which she did after some time.

When Zaraki asked her why she was so convinced that you were her Mother, she simply said she knew it was you. He was aware of the possibility that you could have come back from the Human World— you could have done this all throughout your lives but it was not until now that she got to see you again. For a long time, she had dreamed of this moment and, now that you were back, she was not letting you go ever again. Not that you seemed uncomfortable with her presence, either; if anything, you seemed to enjoy it.

It was impossible for him not to try and find an explanation for this strange situation. He surmised that, if you had indeed been her Mother once, then you certainly had no memory of it whatsoever. It had been such a long time— maybe some hundred years— after all, and it was known that most souls that passed to the Human World suffered amnesia once they were reincarnated in a human body. You had been dead long before he met the little girl, probably murdered in one of the most dangerous districts of the Rukongai, infested of violence and crime. Had he not found her, Zaraki was certain it would not be long before the girl was dead, too.

Surely, Yachiru’s Mother had died to protect the child. That was the only explanation he could find, yet the question whether you were that woman still remained unanswered. As he watched you walking hand in hand with Yachiru through the busy streets of the market district, he did not fail to notice the keenness you chatted with her. The little girl seemed pleased to show you around as you two hopped from shop to shop and he merely limited himself with following around. Surely, there was that occasion in which Yachiru took his hand and she was walking with him and you, much like a child with her parents…

It was not helping with the rumors about you being his bride. It had been quite the surprise in the Soul Society, as no one ever expected such a thing, but there was nothing you could do about it, though, other than to ignore those speculations. While Shinigamis could certainly marry other souls— and in very special and seldom situations, humans— not many of them did given the responsibility they had taken on as death gods to bring balance to the worlds. [1]

However, Zaraki could not deny he had grown fond of you, too, because you made his Yachiru so happy. He did not know for sure if you were her real Mother but, at least, you were the closest thing to it. It made him wonder if the woman had been like you; probably she was— not physically speaking but character-wise. Just how much of her could be seen in you?

“Ken-chan, look!” His train of thought was interrupted when the pink-haired girl’s voice reached him, and he looked up to see her with a delightful smile on her face. She and you had stopped to look at some nice headdresses and apparently could not resist trying them on. They were a bit large for Yachiru but she did not seem to mind, at all, as she held it with one hand so it would not fall off her head and the other pointed at you with enthusiasm. “Aren’t they pretty? I’m buying all of them! We need to choose the prettiest for your wedding and I can’t do that right now.”

At this, you sweat-dropped but the girl seemed oblivious to the discomfort you showed.
“Ah, Yachiru-chan—” You scratched your cheek as you nervously eyed the people that were staring at you now with genuine curiosity but she carried on her merry chitchat. That also meant you also met Zaraki’s eyes, which showed an unnerving reserve even in such an embarrassing situation. It was not so much the fact that you did not like him— if truth be told, it was quite the opposite. You had grown to like the tall, mighty, and fearless Shinigami, perhaps more than you dared to admit and that was something you preferred to keep to yourself.

Was such a thing even possible between a death god and a soul? You did not think so. It was only a good friendship— one that had only been possible thanks to the little girl that danced in front of you, with such an eagerness that left you perplexed. She was truly convinced you were her Mother and, much to your dismay, you were even starting to believe it.

As a subtle smile formed on his lips and he crossed his arms, there was only one thing you could think of. Feeling Yachiru cling to your neck, you blushed when a little tug at your heart made you realize that the glint in his eyes was not the one that preceded the heat of battle. It spoke of warmth and, for the first time, you wanted to linger a little longer in them, wondering was this fuzzy feeling in your heart.

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[1] I’m not sure about this one, even though I tried to dig up some information on it. I have come up with some vague answers so I’m taking some liberties with this.