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Destruction and Recreation
Most the Seireitei slept. Even Kenpachi's division was passed out, both from being liquored up and exhausted from the thrashing they'd gotten. Kenpachi hadn't been too proud to learn how most his unseated handled themselves during the Ryoka Invasion, being more interested taunting some Fourth Division members than looking for a good fight.
At least Aramaki had the balls to go rogue with the rest of them to help the Ryoka. Though Kenpachi wouldn't have been surprised if Yachiru hadn't bullied him into that shit.
Zaraki had left Yumichika and Ikkaku to the task of whipping the division into shape. No doubt they'd gotten them trashed afterwards just to make the pounding they'd given them hurt even more tomorrow. Kenpachi had told the two of them not to call any of the healers. If it looked like somebody was gonna bleed out, let 'em. Maybe that would teach them to respect the fucking Fourth.
There was a difference in strength that most of them didn't get. Shit, neither had Kenpachi until he'd fought his way into the Gotei 13 only to discover the woman he'd been looking for was the Captain of the most pussy-ass pacifist division in the entire place. Didn't make her any less strong, and none of his squad doubted that. They might bully the unseated, calling them weak, but one tight lipped smile from Retsu Unohana had them pissing their pants.
Feeling the same fear she'd taught Kenpachi when he was a kid, except now she had her fangs sheathed.
"You never do get tired of this sight, do you, Kenpachi Zaraki?" she said in her soft, melodious voice as she joined him on the rooftop.
It wasn't coincidence that she was there. Fuck, it wasn't coincidence that he was there, either, watching the particles of reishi glittering in the moonlight as the building he'd leveled the day before slowly took form again.
First time Kenpachi had ever seen it happen — seen the damage he'd caused get erased into nothing — he had no idea what the hell was happening. Where he was from out in the Rukongai, shit that got fucked up stayed fucked up unless you fixed it with your own damn hands. Here, though — in the Seireitei, the heart of Soul Society — the reishi that made up their world came back together, fixing what had been destroyed.
There were some that said it was a gift from the Soul King, looking out for those that protected their world. The more cynical said that it was the Soul King taking care of his army, since Soul Society wasn't theirs no matter how much the Gotei 13 and Central 46 might pretend.
Personally, Kenpachi didn't give a fuck what caused it. But Retsu was right that he never got tired of watching it happen.
"Destruction and recreation," he told her gruffly. "Don't get much simpler than that."
"Especially when the destruction was your recreation," Retsu replied, hints of both amusement and chastisement in her tone. Kenpachi flashed her a wide grin in response.
It was only damage he caused that he liked to watch piece itself back together. She damn well knew that, which is how she'd known she'd be able to find him on this rooftop.
Just like he'd known she would.
"Don't get much simpler than that," Kenpachi said again, still grinning. "Kinda reminds me of you."
The softness of her demeanor sharpened suddenly, turning cold, as her eyes opened a fraction to glare at him through the narrowed gaze. "What exactly are you implying, Captain Zaraki?" she asked tightly.
"You can put a man back together as easily as ya take him apart," Kenpachi told her, and he had no doubt she could hear the thickness in his voice. It was anticipation, and longing, and something else buried underneath that he never looked too closely at.
Regret, perhaps.
For all the things they'd been in each other's pasts, were in their present, and would some day be in their future. Over the years, they'd been mentor and student, lovers, and something remarkably similar to friends. And, one day, one of them would die by the other's hand.
That part had been destined from the day they first met.
"You're destruction and recreation," Kenpachi finished telling her.
Her eyes slipped closed, placid expression back on her face as she retreated into herself. It didn't take the bite out of her words, though, as she asked, "And which one are you wanting, Captain Zaraki?"
His smile slid into something a little less bloodthirsty, a little more fond. The type of affection only reserved for Yachiru, though he showed it to Retsu just as easily when he wanted. "Don't see how it fucking matters," he told her. "As long as it's a good fight."
"If you're weak enough to be beat by the Ryoka boy, maybe I won't find you worth putting back together," she replied, the truth to her words barely hidden by the teasing tone.
Kenpachi's hand clenched on the blade lying on the rooftop next to him instinctively. Not because he was threatened, or even because he wanted to attack. But just the thought of his fight with Ichigo Kurosaki had him reaching out for his zanpakuto in a way he never really had before.
"I'm gonna get stronger," he told her, a promise in the growled words.
"See that you do," the Captain of the Fourth Division told him primly. She softened, though, as she rested a gentle hand against his scarred cheek. "I want to put you back together properly this time, Kenpachi of Zaraki." She moved her hand and pressed a light kiss to his cheek instead.
Then, just as suddenly as she'd shown up, Retsu Unohana was gone, leaving Kenpachi once again alone on the rooftop.
He turned back to watch the glittering reishi as it floated in the moonlight, compressed together to build the brick and mortar of the building he'd destroyed. The bones of the Seireitei would always remain the same, even if the ones who bled for it never did.
There was something rather heartless and beautiful about it, and Kenpachi never really did tire of watching it.
Destruction and recreation….
Problem was, Retsu was right. Kenpachi was no longer all that certain which of those he wanted.
Not when it came to her.
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