Bleach drabble: Dark Dragon
Pairing: Unohana/Kenpachi
Rating: PG13
Words: 452
Dark Dragon
by cinnamongrr1
Unohana Retsu had, as a child, always turned to daydreams of the fantastical when she was bored. Fantasies of knights rescuing maidens from fierce dragons had evolved, with age, to fantasies of the dragons themselves. There was something endlessly entertaining about the beasts, with their improbable size and impossible power.
Over time, one dragon came to predominate over the others-a classic Chinese with large, circular scales of red and gold. A broad, square face surrounded by a thorny ruff, and two big round nostrils spitting fire and fumes to quail any knight’s heart. It had no limbs-Retsu later learned these sort of dragons were called wyverns-and ambulated by means of immense wings of iridescent leather. When her interest was short, but time was plentiful, she would turn to imaginings of this creature flowing through the sky, swooping down to retrieve its prey before zooming aloft once again.
In recent days, however-since the coming and going of the ryoka, actually-- the dragon’s appearance had been changing in Retsu’s mind’s eye. Its scales changed, first, turned black as pitch and shrunk in size until its body seemed to undulate like liquid. Then its face; it narrowed, lengthened, gained a long scar down the left side of its face and grew a scale over its right eye.
But even these memories of war and injury did not diminish its menace or power; no, her dragon had both of these in spades.
The last evolution of it was a lengthening of the ruff round its neck, into long and pointy spikes, each tipped with a single silver bell. Oh, and the fact that suddenly, the maiden it was concerned with devouring was herself.
Retsu’s dragon would dart nimbly forward, take her in its mouth, and starting at her feet, eat her and eat her and eat her…
A bony elbow jabbed itself through the layers of Retsu’s uniform and into her ribs.
“Oi,” Soi Fong hissed at her. “It’s your turn.”
She blinked and abruptly came back to herself. Her eyes, as always happened when she had this particular daydream, were fixed on Zaraki Kenpachi’s face.
Currently, that face was turned toward her with its usual scowl, the brow creased with a vague curiosity. Pierced by that narrow gaze, Retsu’s legendary composure failed her for the first time since achieving captain’s rank and her face flooded with hot colour.
Retsu blinked and tore her eyes from him, looking around to see the entirety of the group of captains watching her expectantly.
“My apologies,” she said, more surprised than relieved to hear her voice was its usual, well-modulated tone.
Surreptitiously, she wiped her damp palms down her captain’s coat, and began her report.