Killing a Fly

No, that wouldn't work either.

Poison would be far too difficult to obtain; still, perhaps he could bribe Captain Mayuri to extract some venom from one of his latest Hollow subjects— But no, that was too complicated; besides, he wasn't yet an important enough figure to confront a captain-level shinigami. He was going to need something quick, efficient, and simple. Something like… strangling. Yes, that would do; and, if that didn't work, there was always death by electrification, suffocation, drowning, catapulting her off a cliff… He furrowed his brow, allowing a vision of each possible method to coalesce in his mind's eye.

The man let his dried mouth excrete a loose breath of air; he guessed, in the end, he wasn't much of a intellectual, nor was he exceptionally creative. He would just have to stick to the traditional methods of just beating her ass to the ground.

"Keennn-chaaaaaaaaaaan!"

Zaraki Kenpachi tightened the muscles in his jaw as if imprinting teeth marks on a chunk of skin. Speak of the devil. (Despite himself, for a barely discernible two seconds, he let a slight smirk crawl onto his lips, realizing that that was another way he could kill her off: death by cannibalistic feasting.) He ground his teeth together, made a small noise with his throat, and spat onto the dirt beneath him. "Now what is it, you little brat?"

He had been navigating through a forest for the past two hours -- the Great Wood, as they called it -- whose northernmost exit lay just outside of the Seireitei. It was a moderately sizable one; the trees, having burst from the earth for, as it seemed, the sole purpose of standing in the man's way, stood towering above him. Almost as irritatingly persistent as Pink Midget Girl trailing behind were the jet-black spikes in his head scraping against several of the tree branches just above him; just as one slashed down the 67th branch, P.M.G. found another reason to call out.

An eye muscle twitched. He whipped around, his cloak flapping angrily with the sudden movement. "If there's something you want --"

She beamed up at him, the autumn leaves crunching against her sandals as her stumpy figure approached. "No, it was nothing, it's just --" Her large, chocolate pupils fixated on him, darting from his torn clothing and scarred skin to his rough face. "You look tired, Ken-chan… Why don't you get us some hot lemonade, I heard it relieves stress really well!"

And again with the crap. Perhaps he was losing his mind, but last he checked there were no vendors insane enough to sell refreshments in the dead middle of a forest. Besides: "Men don't need that kind of stuff." He pivoted and resumed weaving between numerous tree trunks to reach the northern exit; as he did so, however, into his ears drifted the distinct sounds of leaves crunching behind him. The girl, he knew, was on him like a dog.

"Well, suit yourself, I guess," she said. "But now that you're with me, you're going to have to loosen up a bit, Kenny; stiff-necks aren't very interesting, y'know. No need to worry, though; I'll give you the in's and out's of being worriless!" She giggled. "Oh we're going to have so much fun together! We'll play tag, hide-and-go-seek -- what other games are there? Actually, we should play hide-and-go-seek right now! You'll be the one who hides, okay? All right, and you only have to count to ten, 'cause I'm a pretty good hider if-I-do-say-so-myself, although …" She droned on.

She wasn't going to shut up any time soon; at this point, if his stomach wasn't already so full, he would have loved to put that "cannibalistic feasting" plan into action. In fact, he probably still would have, if only he had a fork in his hand at the time. Still, Zaraki Kenpachi was not about to put up with her incoherent babbling for another two hours. He whipped around for the second time but did not open his mouth; he intended to let his eyes do all the talking. It was, in essence, the most potent death glare he had shot at anyone for years -- but the pink-haired girl was not paying enough attention to care.

"… but you should probably wear a blind-fold or something while you count, 'cause I bet you're gonna peek, ya lil' cheater…" The girl glanced up at him, assumedly to determine what size blind-fold he was going to need. "Ehhh… I think three pieces of bark will do. Still, though -- KENNY! Why are you looking at me like that!"

Kenpachi narrowed his eyes; it was readily apparent that the little punk could not take a hint. He was going to have to either kill her now, or simply catapult her onto a deserted island.

"I have no time for that crap," he said, articulating each syllable perfectly, just in case she had a hearing deficiency. "I have somewhere to go; there's someone I have to kill."

"Kill? How?"

"How?" The same smirk from before was returning onto his features; the notion of not understanding murder seemed unrealistic, like a dream waiting to wisp away to accompany the night stars. Fighting had been the very first thing he had learned to do; first that, then he learned to walk. "By luring the 12th Division Captain to the area just outside the Seireitei, and then by fighting to the death."

"What're ya, crazy? Now that you're with me, Ken-chan, you're a good guy. Good guys don't beat each other to a pulp! Could you imagine what the place would be like if there was a buncha dead bodies lying on the ground?! We'd never be able to play tag then! Besides— Wait a minute!" The girl lifted an index finger. "What is that thing on your neck?"

"If it mattered, I would tell you…"

"No, it's a MOLE!" she said, her finger still wavering in front of his face. For a moment, Zaraki wondered vaguely if she wanted him to rip off that little finger of hers, but he merely frowned and allowed the temptation a few seconds to fade away.

It returned quickly at her next statement.

"I told you you're a good guy now! Good guys don't have moles!"

RRRRIP.

--

"You know, Ken-chan, when you get angry, there's this really nasty purple vein that pops out of your forehead… I really think you should get you some hot lemonade for that stress…"

He hadn't been stressed in all of his life, prior to running into this fool.

For the past hour or so, blood had been spurting generously from a mysterious spot on his neck. It probably was not such a good idea to continue traveling under such circumstances, of course, as someone was bound to follow the blood trail now or later, and it would inevitably lead them directly to Zaraki's whereabouts. But it did not matter; a good challenge was always welcome. Plus… he wished someone would follow him.

Still, he would need some time to contemplate getting rid of that damn little girl trailing behind him; just look at her—beaming, giggling, and running her mouth like an engine. Under normal circumstances, of course, ignoring it would not be a problem—but as for now, he had somewhere to travel to. Now was not the time.

He had spent numerous hours devising how to bring about her death, but realistically he knew killing her was an unthinkable act; there was no purpose in murdering those who could not fight back. For this reason—and no other, he told himself—he would rest for a while. To calm some nerves.

"I'm a taking a break."

"I'm taking a break too," she echoed, sitting under the tree trunk he was leaning on. "Say, are you suuuure you don't want any hot lemonade? It's supposed to relieve stress, and you look like you need it more than ever!"

"I told you, men don't need that stuff; go get yourself some."

"Well, I think I'll just rest with you here…and then I'll guide you through the rest of the forest, you know, as a way of thanking you from saving me from that beast earlier…. It was quite a doozey, wasn't it? I was really just trying to tame the wolf—you know, since I heard dogs make such good pets—but when it started foaming from the mouth… Wait a minute. Ken-chaaaaaaan!" She lifted an index finger again, but this time did not point it at his face. "What's that squishy-looking thing poking out between your legs?"

She was moving her hand closer.

He froze; no, of course not… She couldn't be about to…

"I thought I told you you're a good guy now! Good guys don't have penises!"

RRRRRRIP.

--

That had been the last straw.

Tonight she was going to die, goddammit.

The night was silent; only the forest's zephyr whistled into his eardrums. Perfect. And there she was, cuddled against the acorn tree like a squirrel, slumbering peacefully—ripe for the plucking. Zaraki stood; this once, just this once, he would let anger carry his legs to her. Let it move his hands over her body. Let it stretch his fingers around her neck. And let it wring the life out of her.

Already he was looming over her unconscious body; there was no point in wasting time. He reached out and grasped her neck.

"THE WOLF!"

The sudden cry was startling—especially given that it had originated from the girl's mouth, despite the fact that she was supposed to be choking. He snapped his neck around, catching a vision of a familiar beast darting toward him, a foam-like substance oozing from the corners of its mouth, and— the beast sunk its fang-like teeth into his chest.

Zaraki frowned; no, he had been wrong. It had only attempted to bite; the thickness of his reiatsu, apparently, had prevented any true damage from being dealt. The beast lay shivering on the ground, several of its teeth broken.

He turned toward the girl, brow furrowed. He didn't even have to voice his question; she seemed to have read his face.

"Are you asking why I warned you?" She chuckled a little. "I thought it was obvious. We're friends, right?"

A muscle twitched somewhere close to his lower lip; she must've mistaken it as a smile, for she was now beaming up at him. Permitting it, he blinked and said, "Name?"

"Oh, I didn't tell you? Name's Kusajishi Yachiru, nice to meetcha!" she beamed, clapping her hand in his, and shaking it violently up and down. "Why didn't ya ask me earlier? Maybe if you'd reminded me to introduce myself properly, you wouldn't have been thinking of killing me throughout this whole trip, neeeh?" Without acknowledging the flabbergasted expression on his face or describing how she had detected his murderous intent, Yachiru sprung onto his shoulder and, without a care in the world, screeched, "Now, to the North!"

It was strange.

He could kill a wolf, a Hollow, and essentially any man, but he never could harm a fly.

Several Hours Later

-

Yachiru was off peeing.

He took advantage of the moment; the man stole a glance to the left, and then to the right.

Coast clear, target located. Plastering a leisure expression on his face, he ambled forward and clapped a hand onto the vendor's shoulder.

"Oh, sorry sir, I didn't see you back there! Would you like a refreshment? Sorry, but I'm fresh out of everything but hot lemonade; you wouldn't happen to be interested? It relieves stress really well, you know! Only 150 yen."

"…stress?" Kenpachi almost threw the money at him. "I'll take ten—no." He was quick to correct himself:

"I'll take twenty."

End Note:

Yachiru: Ken-chaaaaaan! What's that thumping sound in your chest? I TOLD you you're a GOOD guy now! GOOD guys don't have hearts!

Uh-oh… There's that purple vein again…