Kenpachi
Zaraki decided that he must have been absolutely insane. He skinned
the rabbits he'd caught earlier, trying to ignore the baby girl who
was currently wailing by the fire.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm hungry
too," he muttered. With the veggies he'd taken (looted) from the
Kusajishi district, he could make a rabbit stew, which ought to be
tender enough for her to eat. "You know, if you'd shut up, Yach,
dinner will be here a lot sooner."
She stopped and shot him a
little glare. He took her around the bandit's camp, while the food
was cooking, looking for anything that might be useful. When they
came back, the stew was ready.
"C'mon,
open up," he said, trying to be soothing. "You have to eat,
Yachiru."
After they'd eaten, he decided that they had to
bathe again, as more food seemed to have gone on Yachiru then IN her.
(Yet more proof that this parenting thing was a stupid idea.) Once
he got her dry, he then discovered that it was time for another round
of "stick the baby." If he was going to keep her, she was going
to learn about toilets and bushes. He should have just granted her a
quick death, rather than condemning her to slow starvation or
neglect. But no, he had to be the big , he'd drop her
off on the nearest friendly looking doorstep with her name pinned to
her chest. (Maybe he'd come back once a year, and frighten the
adoptive parents.)
She crawled over to him, and smiled.
"Dada?" she asked.
"Kenpachi," he corrected. "I ain't your father."
She thought for a second. "Ken-cha?"
"Close enough," he conceded, pulling her onto his lap, and tucking a bit of blanket around her. Just for tonight, he'd pretend that he was keeping her.