Bleach: The Turds and the Trees
The Turds and the Trees
by cinnamongrr1
Yachiru bounded into Kenpachi’s office with a sheet of paper fluttering in one hand. Ikkaku’s figure, reclining on his side before his captain’s desk, was no obstacle to her whatsoever; she merely leapt over him and bounced once off the desk before landing squarely on Kenpachi’s lap.
“Ken-chan,” she said, brandishing the paper, “do you have one of these?”
His pleasure at putting aside the boring report did not show on his scowling face; he’d just been about to inform Ikkaku that it was his turn to spar when Yachiru made her appearance. She was always coming to him with some question or another, and since it usually meant a distraction from the tedious side of being a captain, he welcomed it.
Kenpachi took the paper from her, looked down at its contents, remembered her question, and choked on his tongue.
“Zaraki-taichou?” Ikkaku asked, sitting up and peering over the edge of the desk at them.
Kenpachi ignored him, instead fixing his gaze on his vice-captain. Her guileless eyes stared back, filled with complete trust and a very convincing cluelessness.
“Where,” he began slowly, his voice a dark rumble that boded ill, “did you get this?”
“From Nemu-chan,” Yachiru replied impatiently. “So, do you have one?”
“From… Kurotsuchi-fukutaichou?” Ikkaku demanded, going on sudden full-alert. He leaned over the desk and tried to snatch it from his captain’s numb fingers. “What is it?”
Kenpachi held it out of his reach, but turned it around to show his subordinate with a stony expression. The expression of dumbfoundment on Ikkaku’s face when he realized what, exactly, he was looking at was almost worth the extreme discomfort Kenpachi was at this moment experiencing.
Almost.
But not quite.
“Why the hell did Kurotsuchi give Kusajishi-fukutaichou a picture of a dick?” Ikkaku blurted, very confused indeed.
“It was for the Female Shinigami meeting,” Yachiru explained when twin looks of male bafflement were turned her way. “We want cell phones designed just for us girls, and everyone turned in an example of what they thought would be the best phone. Mine was best!” she continued exuberantly, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet, which themselves rested somewhat uncomfortably on the balls of Kenpachi. “It was a bunny! A pink bunny!”
“And Kurotsuchi’s design was shaped like a dick?” Ikkaku prodded, impatient to get to the point. His bald head was somehow shinier than before, and Kenpachi realized it was because the shinigami was sweating. A swipe of his hand across his own brow told him he wasn’t as unaffected by this latest occurance as he’d like to let on.
Yachiru nodded. “Most everyone looked funny, like they ate something strange, and Nanao-chan yelled at Nemu-chan a long time. Rangiku-chan laughed, though.”
Kenpachi and Ikkaku exchanged a look over the little girl’s head; Matsumoto-fukutaichou was certainly a unique woman.
“So, Ken-chan! What’s a dick? And do you have one?” She glanced over her shoulder at Ikkaku. “Does Pachinko-dama have one, too? Nanao-chan said all men have one.”
“There’s your answer,” Kenpachi snarled. “We’re men. You do the math.”
Yachiru looked thoughtful for a moment, one fingertip to her lips as she pondered deeply, and then nodded firmly. “Okay!” she announced, and hopped from his lap back to the desk (much to his relief). Just as they were thinking it was over, she piped up with another question.
“Ken-chan,” Yachiru asked, “what do you do with a dick?”
Kenpachi dropped his head into his hands and- not for the first time- wished to God she’d been a boy. Sure, he’d killed several thousand people, but that didn’t mean he had to pay for it in such a cruel and inhumane way.
He wasn’t a squeamish man, but there was just no way in hell he was going to explain the facts of life to Yachiru. There were certain things that were just a woman’s job, and this was one of them. Clearly, it was time for his vice-captain to be told about the turds and the trees, or whatever euphemism pansies used when they couldn’t say “fucking”.
Which woman, though? His first thought was of Matsumoto; there wasn’t a shy bone in her body and she likely had a few centuries of experience, so she’d know what she was talking about. But then, he didn’t want Yachiru to grow up to be a tramp, and he didn’t have a lot of confidence in Matsumoto’s ability to keep from getting too pornographic.
What about his fellow captain, Unohana? As the most proficient healer in Seireitai, she’d have all the science down but he’d bet his left nut she’d make it sound like an ordeal instead of a hell of a lot of fun.
“This was all that freak’s fault,” he thought glumly, and propped his chin on his hand as he glared down at the drawing. As far as dicks went, it was a fairly lifelike rendering if one ignored the buttons and vents for the speaker and microphone. Still, it was creepy; you didn’t hold a dick to your head and speak to other people with it. It was totally against the purpose and intent of a dick. Kenpachi found he was feeling a little outraged, and with that outrage came the solution to his quandary.
Heh. A grin teased at one side of his mouth. If Kurotsuchi had gotten him into this situation, she was gonna get him out.
“Oi,” he said, standing. “I’m going out.”
Yachiru had gotten bored as he sat there thinking, and contented herself with tormented the third-seat; currently, she was trying to climb down the back of his uniform to see if they could both fit into it at the same time. She’d managed to get her legs under the collar of his haori and was pushing on his shoulders with all her might to force her tiny bottom to follow, and was completely oblivious to how she was choking the daylights out of Ikkaku, who was turning a blotchy and florid purple.
“Where ya going, Ken-chan?” she chirped happily, looking up at him as he came around the desk and made for the door.
“To pay a friend a visit,” as all he said, but then his smile reached to both sides of his mouth. Even with consciousness swiftly fading, Ikkaku recognized the crafty look on his captain’s face.
He was up to no good. Ikkaku just hoped he’d get up to it soon, because the second he was gone, Ikkaku was going to skin his vice-captain alive.
If he survived, that was.