Title: why I cry (on the inside)

Rating: G

Pairing / Characters: Zaraki Kenpachi

Word Count: 345 words

Warnings: No spoilers that I can think of

Summary: Zaraki cries. And remembers

A/N: Sniff. This is a side to Zaraki I would never have imagined, if I hadn't known how he found Yachiru. I don't find this implausible; even a man like Zaraki is capable of love – he loves Yachiru after all. This was difficult to write; I haven't as yet written anything on Zaraki and I found it hard to imitate his speech but I think I may have done it. Hopefully the next ones will be more in character!

I can still remember her, the woman of no name who still haunts my dreams. We didn't have much time together, less than a year, but I can still smell her memories on my skin. I miss her more than ever on nights like this.

When the days were hot and the nights warm, we would lie outside with our feet in the river, watching the stars. We never talked; she was too shy and I was too awkward, but when our eyes met, I knew we said everything that was important.

When I got hurt, she bandaged my wounds.

When my muscles were tight, she rubbed the aches away. As far as I can remember, she was the first person who touched me without fear.

When I woke up in the middle of the night, screaming from nightmares I could barely remember, she held me until I fell asleep again.

I loved her, more than I loved anything else up to that point.

I don't remember how we met, just that it seemed she was always there. She was the one who persuaded me to stop fighting; she never said anything but I knew how much she hated bloodshed. I would have died for her but I put away my katana instead. Life was simpler then, easier, days filled with chores, nights filled with loving.

It was heaven. True paradise.

Then it happened.

I woke up one night and she was gone. The house we shared was in chaos, and somehow, I'd missed it. I followed the trail of blood as best as I could but it ended at the river. Our river. From that moment, I vowed never to love again. To live a warrior's existence, to let the only warmth touch me be the blood of the people I killed. I would be alone, unacknowledged, denied the right of humanity, of contact, of love.

I realise now how foolish that was. I was never meant to be alone.

That's why, whenever I see Yachiru, the child who bears her face, I cry.