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Jushiro stood outside the ward, back leaning against the door, thinking of what he was supposed to do if he were to enter. He had been there for quite some time now since hearing the news from Madarame. Just when Jushiro had thought that he would be able to indulge in his usual afternoon tea with the Eleventh Division's higher-ranking members, the Third Seat appeared from the barracks and solemnly informed him about their lieutenant.
Without even wasting so much as a glance back at the division, Jushiro had raced all the way to the Fourth, only to come to a standstill right there, outside the ward.
On one hand, what was he so nervous about anyway?
Jushiro shook his head, ridiculing himself, and twisted open the doorknob. Better to stand inside the room searching for words than staying outside where the healers kept distracting him with questions.
The ward was dark save for the light that filtered in through a sheet of translucent curtains in the corner. It cast a faint hue across the bed, causing a small head of pink that poked out of the blanket glow a little brighter.
Kenpachi sat in a chair by the bedside, shoulders hunched, fingers intertwined together to form a tight fist. He didn't seem to hear when Jushiro closed the door behind him, which was just as well since Jushiro hadn't anything to say to him.
Or rather, he didn't know what to say. It was the first time Jushiro found himself being confronted with this sort of situation. Usually, it was him who would be in that bed. It was Kyoraku, Sentaro and Kiyone who would be by his side, fussing over him while Unohana prepared more shots.
But now…
Jushiro tried to clear his thoughts, to think straight. In truth, the Seireitei was fortunate that Kenpachi didn't go on a rampage. The man was known for his temper, his lack of emotional control, but maybe, just maybe, he had thought the better of it and decided to stay here instead, tending to the one person who needed him most.
Swallowing a lump that had lodged itself in his throat, Jushiro stepped forwards, slow in his approach, and, hesitantly, placed a hand on Kenpachi's shoulder. He could feel the tension in his limbs, the tightness of his muscles, and automatically Jushiro gave his shoulder a squeeze.
"How…how is she?" he forced out, ignoring the oppressive waves of spiritual pressure that raged within those four walls.
Kenpachi didn't even make a sound, continued to stare at his hands.
After a while, Jushiro took a step back, his own hand slipping from Kenpachi's shoulder. He suddenly felt so out of place.
"I'll leave the both of you, then," he said softly so as not to disturb Yachiru's sleep. She looked so peaceful, but the tubes that pierced her arms and nostrils didn't make for a very pretty sight.
Jushiro retreated, but Kenpachi immediately grabbed his wrist and pulled him down. Before he could even blink his surprise, Kenpachi had wrapped his arms around his waist with a tight grip that Jushiro wasn't very familiar with. It wasn't meant to be possessive, which was what Kenpachi always had in mind, but a needier, almost abandoned sense pulsated from his hold, prompting the older captain to take his face in his hands and lift it up towards him.
But Kenpachi wrenched away, laying his head against his abdomen instead. Jushiro stood still, and for a moment in time everything seemed so quiet save for the soft beeping of the monitor. It was rhythmic but irritating all at the same time. Jushiro always hated that beeping, having heard it each time he was admitted into the hospital, but he tried his best to ignore it and focus on the current plight at hand.
"Ikkaku told me about what happened to Yachiru, but he didn't tell me how it happened," he murmured, caressing the back of Kenpachi's neck. "When I heard, I came straight here. What did Retsu say? I haven't got a chance to meet h-"
"Shut the fuck up, Ukitake." Though muffled, it did quite a show of silencing Jushiro. He stood in place, rigid and unmoving, but when Kenpachi's arms tightened around him, when he let out a dreary sigh and turned his face into his stomach, Jushiro couldn't find it within him to get angry.
Instead, he massaged Kenpachi's shoulders like how he used to after he returned from a mission, loosening knotted muscles and easing tension. He bent down, planted a kiss on the man's forehead, and he felt Kenpachi's arms around him tighten more, hands clutching fistfuls of his haori with a vice-grip.
Jushiro caressed the back of his head, smiling softly.
"You big baby."
Kenpachi gave a chuckle that came out more like a slight wheeze.
"Shut up."
And Jushiro did as he was told, allowing his hands to caress Kenpachi's shoulders and neck in silence.
Forcing himself to look at Yachiru, Kenpachi reached out and took her tiny hand in his, squeezing it as lightly as he could so as not to hurt her.
"Get better, ye brat," he growled lowly, stroking her hand with his thumb.
"Get better and I'll give you as much candy as you want," said Jushiro, and Kenpachi couldn't help but bark out a laugh.
"She'll tear the whole Seireitei down."
Jushiro suppressed a chuckle. "Wouldn't that be fun to watch?"
Kenpachi couldn't have agreed more. Seeing the brat tear down the Seireitei, along with his own division, was better than seeing her like this.
He gave her hand, along with Jushiro's body, a gentle squeeze.
"Jus' get better."