Chapter Text
“We stabilized her breathing, but it’s all still pretty unclear at this point. I don’t want to be negative about this but…”
For all the times that she has been able to make a point of a patient’s status, Isane finds herself at an embarrassing loss for words in the presence of the Eleventh Division’s captain. Not so much in fear of the man himself [ though his exceeding height and pensive gaze do strike a bit of nervousness within her ] but the fact that she, like everyone else, have come to know what the Fourth Seat has come to modestly mean to him. Nervously, she glances to the right to catch what he may look like. His eyes are low set and mouth curved into its usual downturn - plainly put, he cannot be read. She sighs quietly and runs a hand through her lavender hair, leaving him in the center of the room to approach the deathly still Akagi.
The same thought ran through everyone's mind. Why? Why had she decided to take Aizen head on all in the name of saving Rukia? She was hardly associated with the girl. Isane fixes the slacking blankets that half on her torso, gently patting before seating herself next to the bed, huffing quietly, “She was slightly conscious when we brought her in. She wasn't saying much but she just kept looking around before passing out. Meira, one of the women who brought her in, said that she-”
“Stop talking.”
Isane folds her lips inward, indeed falling silent at the command. She looks over her shoulder and sees him approaching, quickly sliding to the side and clasping her hands together, setting them over her mouth. Her gaze volleys between both individuals before she steps back a bit more, though is angled enough to see the softness in which Zaraki Kenpachi extends his fingers over the laceration that tears diagonally through Akagi’s slightly parted lips. He traces from end to end once, stopping at the end closest to her nostrils, staring, then pulling back only so many centimeters and casting a heavy gaze to Isane.
“Leave.”
Her eyes widen and she falls into confliction. She wants to keep a firm watch on the woman but is moved by a strange sight - there is something in the captain's eyes. It's not sadness or really anything distinguishable but there is certainly a falter in his usual persona of boredom. She gives a tight nod and takes a hesitant step back before turning on a heel and cutting to the side of the threshold, just outside where she stands, waving off any nurses who offer her a slower gait and cocked eyebrows. There is an immediate understanding when they move by the room, heads lowered and avoiding.
__
Kenpachi just stares.
His immediate and resonating emotion is anger. Of course, there is a heavy portion reserved for Aizen. However, he is completely aware that most of it is directed towards the damn near comatose woman before him. He can feel his teeth grit slightly in his eased outline of her wounds. The most visible are the bruises and cuts to skin, and that's just from the torso up. Damn woman was too stubborn. For all the times she had asserted herself as a calm, semi-compliant, alternately hard hitting woman of the Eleventh Division, she had chosen the worst time to go against him.
He remembers telling her to stay around the prison. Telling her explicitly to not go after any of them. Admittedly, this had been to save the harder challenges for himself but maybe somewhere in the back of his mind, he had used his position to secure her safety in the sudden attack. No lie that she could damn well handle herself and shit if that wasn't a fucking turn on but regardless, it may have been instinctual. He doesn't want to sit, but he has no intention of leaving her side for all the time she is out. What angers him most is the avoidable part of the situation. She could've been safe. Fair enough challenges within the walls yet despite this, she just had to play the fucking hero and intimate her own plan. Despite its success, he did not find the cost to be worth it.
“Damn woman,” he growls lowly, wishing she could hear him. The moment she could hear him, she would get to hear him express his anger as well as that month long suspension he’d be dealing out.
He is in there for a fair amount of time before leaving. There'd be no point lingering next to her in this fresh state. No telling when she would be waking up and he wasn't about to waste every moment of his time poking his head in to check on her, koibito or not. She caused her own pain and she'd have to suffer like everyone else who acted impulsively.
But that's not what happens.
Within three weeks following Aizen’s betrayal, he preaches internally that he won't poke around constantly but in place of a quick peek into her condition, he spends time within the day that he passes out by his paperwork to sit and watch her. He vaguely remembers Kuchiki’s sister rambling about telling Akagi about how thankful she is for her valor but she says it when he is walking to see Akagi, and he is never really in a state of coherency in those times. It's strange and frustrating but despite his lazed gait, all he can think of in these times is going to sit for another afternoon. He wants to be there when she wakes up - but he's actually convinced himself that it's because he wants to be the one to chastise her first thing. That he wants her to know what she did was reckless, even for the fucking Eleventh Division and that was really saying something. He wants her to take responsibility with a breath to rest -
There is the softest twitch in her lips, the first in days. He narrows his eyes and watches carefully.
Her fingers twitch to the same time and after a few moments of body twitches, her eyes ease open. The first thing she does is look to the curved ceiling above them. By the way she blinks, it's clear she is trying to regain a clear idea on what has happened. He nearly speaks but just watches her for all that he wants to say. He stays seated and waits until she catches his gaze to speak, “You’re suspended.”
She looks up at him, staring at him. He looks back, equally indifferent. Her lips part a bit more and she coughs, a familiar crinkle to the sides of her eyes. He furrows his brows inadvertently in confusion of the gesture. It isn’t until the corners of her lips slide upward and a sound different from her cough sounds slightly that he realizes what this damned woman in her vanquished state of physical wounds is doing.
She is laughing.
Well - not so much laughing as making the attempt to. Her body softly bobs up and down somewhat and she turns her head away from him, shaking her head softly. She moves to sit up a bit more and when she only slightly slips, his hand winds tightly around her arm and he situates her up a bit more. She nods in a mute “thanks” before setting her back to the wall, exhaling softly and offering a weak smile, “Suppose you came down here just to tell me that? I expected that as much as anything.”
She breathes out a soft chuckle, continuing, “You won’t believe me, but it’s true. When I started to black out with them taking me here, one of the last thoughts I had was of what you would say. Would you be mad? Would you blatantly ignore me until you felt like speaking to me? Would you leave me? At that point, my mouth had the overwhelming taste of copper and I just wanted to sleep.”
“You’re so fucking suspended.”
She looks back at him, glancing at his blade before looking back at him. She has a tilt in how she looks at him but is never entirely void of that teasing manner, driving his reiatsu to flare a bit. Why wasn't she taking this as seriously as he fucking wanted her too? She blinks when she feels it and gives a quiet frown, resting her head back with her eyes closed, “If you're just in here to lose your temper with me of all people, then I'm asking you to leave.”
“I'm your koibito and captain, woman. You don't get that decision.”
Her eyes cut towards him, “Are you almost done, then?”
“Damn you…” he stands in a fair amount of frustration, glaring down at her. She glares back with an equal amount of intensity and points with little strength to fire back in verbal disgust before she is cut short. The panels of the window slam to either side of the wall and a gush of wind disrupts the stillness of the room. There is a soft cry and a rush of pink before Akagi arches her back, giving a grunting cry of pain. She wonders, in rage, why Zaraki has not ever tried to help her before she looks down upon prying the smaller thing to no avail, looking down and finding a wet cheeked Yachiru.
Damn it. How was she supposed to stay upset with the poor girl looking back at her like this?
“Akagi!” She cries, burying her face into the woman's shoulder. Ah. This had certainly taken a toll of the lieutenant if she was so willing to cry rather than consider the lighter side of the situation. Akagi sighs and ignores the pressure that Yachiru brings to her aches by clinging so tightly, patting her back, “ Ochitsuku , Yachiru. I'll be alright. It will take much more than that to keep me dead.”
“Keep you?” she murmurs, pulling away.
For the first time, Akagi feels panic hit her head - an immediate headache following without missing a beat. For all the times, she has confronted Zaraki, she has never had to look at him and say “I was dead for two minutes.” What would follow? Some witty comment about how she preferred that to his snoring at night? Any move made would be a mistake. She swallows and shrugs, clearing her throat, only looking at the lieutenant, “I was...dead for two minutes. I briefly woke up a few days ago and one of the nurses told me. I just - “
She sees him leaving and actually chokes out, “I'm sorry, Zaraki!”
He stops and looks over his shoulder at her, running a plain face, “No you're not. You don't listen - idiots don't listen. And that'll be what kills you permanently one day.” He grunts out the words, striding out once they're done. The argument that he was not feeling something was cancelled when he did not move to avoid people passing by, heading out just as Jushiro and Shunsui came hauling numerous and oversized bouquets, curiously watching him leave before moving to her room. What was worse was the handful of Eleventh Division men that waited outside with a few others. It sickens Zaraki further, and he ignores all questions, walking down the path, never stopping until he finds his quarters, isolating himself for the rest of the day.
If there is no greater sign that he is suppressing distress, he actually does paperwork to busy himself.