A/N: Oi veigh.... I've been obsessed with the Eleventh Division recently, thanks to peroxidepest17's drabbles on Fanfiction.net. And yeeessss..... I DO think Zaraki is hot, Umi.... much hotter than MAYURI-taichou of yours, wahahahha!
Ahem, no offence... Please don't kill me and take back your posters in school tomorrow? Pleassseeeeeee? (puppy eyes)
Anyway, umm... maybe a little something about my OC and Zaraki-taichou?
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Kamaitachi Ryorin just loved the night, where she could sit and stroke Zaraki-taichou's hair all she wanted, brushing them free of tangles and washing it clean of the super-strong hair gel and sweat that had been stuck there during the day. Now, as she worked on the second spike, the first all de-tangled and washed and brushed to a smooth texture, the tiny bells on the other spikes tinkled softly as she pushed his head forwards so she could get a better grip.
Normally, no one would've dared to do that, only Yachiru did, but Ryorin was fearless now as she ran her fingers through his hair. Zaraki would never hurt her.
And Zaraki Kenpachi, the intimidating giant of a man that struck fear into the hearts of most Shinigami, now sat quietly in front of her, leaning his weight carefully aginst her legs as she worked on his hair. No word was spoken between them, even when the brush dragged through his hair, Ryorin trying to be as gentle as possible, enjoying each other's silent presence. Each bell was carefully taken off at the end of every night, kept in a special box with little compartments for each of them.
No word had been said for the past three hours. Three hours? Had it really taken that long to completely clean out his hair with spray and water and other stuff? Yes.... it had.. and three hours had passed with Ryorin peacefully running her fingers through her taichou's strangely silky curtain of hair. Zaraki left her to her administrations, leaning back with a relaxed sigh, still careful not to put too much weight on her legs, and started talking about the day's events.
"This mornin'.. you hurt during sparrin', girl?"
"No, taichou. A bit bruised, that's all."
"Good, cause I threw you, Yumi an' that Bald-Head off hard."
"Ain't nothing that hurts me much, taichou."
Zaraki rolled his one visible eye and muttered, "Language, girl. Remember how I told ya to speak when we're alone?"
A smile crossed Ryorin's lips. "Speak like a normal lady. Ain't no boy here to see ya talk rough except me, an' I ain't gonna let no one see ya talk like one of those pansies out of our Division."
There was an approving grunt. "Good. Now talk like one. Yer a girl after all, an' it's already hard enough t' teach Yachiru to speak nicely."
Ryorin's fingers paused in his hair. "Hai, taichou."
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"There's a scratch on yer neck."
"Yumichika and I were sparring this afternoon. Nothing to worry about, tai... Zaraki."
The roles had been reversed, and Ryorin was now curled comfortably in Zaraki's lap while the captain, not so intimidating now, ran his fingers through her hair. His chest rumbled in reply as he took in Ryorin's words. Ryorin was loyal to him, extremely loyal, just like Yumi and Ikkaku, and she would never leave him. The only times he let her drop formalities were times like this, and even so, she found it hard to call him simply by his name.
"What happened between you an' Yama-jii today, gal? Ain't all the time that he calls one o' my Lieutanants to the First."
Ryorin stiffened slightly, causing Zaraki to pause. "It's nothing to worry about."
"Ryorin..." The note in her captain's voice was warning.
"Renji is now captain of the Third Division, and Kira-kun is captain of the Fifth." Ryorin's voice was soft. "Soutaichou wants to put me under Renji as his Vice-captain."
Zaraki was quiet for a while, then he started to chuckle. "Well, what're you gettin' so worked up on, gal? Ain't much trouble to be Vice to that Red-Head. You could teach him a thing or two there."
"But tai.. I mean, Zaraki, I-"
"Don't sound like that goddammed bastard Madarame. I've had enough with his lil' speeches 'bout loyalty. Well, loyalty my foot. I'll be yer captain and yer captain always till kingdom come, ya hear me, Kamaitachi Ryorin? Now you get out there an' serve that Red-Head like you served me. An' kick his ass once in a while durin' sparrin', alright?"
Ryorin leaned back against him and took a deep breath, breathing in his earthy scent. "Hai... taichou."
Zaraki grunted. "It's getting late, gal. Get to bed."
"Hai, oaysumi nasai, taichou." Ryorin stood up, followed by Zaraki, and her gave her a rough hug before letting her go.
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The next day, Ryorin left for the Third Division, and Zaraki had to tame his hair on his own.
The second night, Yumichika did it for him, and he realized with some kind of belated regretfullness that it hurt to pull on his hair.
The third night, Aizen struck to test the strength of Soul Society. The Third Division was one of those that was sent to the Living World to fight off the Arrancar.
And after the fourth night, Zaraki decided to leave his hair in it's spikes, eventhough it hurt to sleep with them.
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Zaraki trudged back to the Eleventh Division, feeling tired though he would never show it. The bells at the ends of his hair was so clogged with dirt and grime now that it hardly made a sound when he moved. But still he refused to have the spikes taken out, even with Yumichika warning him that he might lose most of his hair soon...
A soft but powerful rieatsu filled the air as he neared his quarters, and he looked up, growling, zanpakutoh at the ready to kill off whoever it was that dared enter his quarters without his permission, only to see a familliar figure sitting at the window.
"Ryorin?"
Ryorin turned from where she was leaning against the window frame and looking out at the sky, a small smile on her lips. "Thought I wouldn't come back huh, taichou?"
Zaraki said nothing but swept her up in him arms, giving her a tight hug, and setting her down in the chair sitting in the middle of the room, sitting before her, maniacal grin firmly back in place.
"Heh, get to work, ya little Weasel. Ya know what to do."
~Owari~
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