Title :: Plums
Setting :: Bleach
Series :: Raising Yachiru
Characters :: Yachiru, Kenpachi.
Words :: 859
Related Stories :: Teething Pains, Learning New Tricks, First Words, Winter Days, Hide and Seek, A Day in the Forest, Turning Point, The Fugue.
Author Note :: All because of this. (Read the title as part of the poem, btw.) Edits are always good.

The fruit seller stared, torn between bemusement, irritation and the niggling doubt that despite the two currently prevalent sentiments, fond amusement would instead soon win out. It wasn't that the child was devouring the sun warmed plum with fierce hunger, as the starved street urchins that prospered in the nearby villages and towns usually did - if she'd done so, snatching the fruit away and chasing her off likely would have been easy. What affected him so much, really, was the fact that she had clearly rushed for the basket, reaching in avidly in pure hunger, only to pause after the first bite with a stunned look. Afterwards, she'd elected to sit primly on the ground in her neat if worn pink kimono, taking small careful bites of the plum in between long moments of awed contemplation and rapt delight, the fruit cradled in her hands as though it were a gift from the very gods themselves.

When she'd finally carefully and meticulously eaten the entire fruit, leaving behind a small, hard core which she was obviously contemplating eating as well, he found himself reaching for his basket. Before she could pop the pit in her mouth, he gravely handing her another sun sweetened plum, turning his then empty hand with the palm towards the sky, for her to drop the pit she'd still been holding onto there.

Her eyes beamed with joy and her smile wasn't quite unlike the dawning of the sun, he decided, straightening up with an impossible to hold back smile of return.

"It's a plum," he informed her, seeing the question in her eyes as she raised the small fruit up high, giggling at it in delight, watching how the sun's light streamed down and played on the dark skin of the plum.

"Plum!" She looked at the fruit intently for a moment longer, repeating the word softly under her breath, breathing in slowly as thought the very air might bring the taste of the fruit to her senses. "Plum, plum, plum!"

"What th' hell is goin' on here?" The air suddenly thickened and the fruit seller found himself rooted to the spot, smile fading in favor of a very wide eyed expression of dawning fear. The pit fell from his nerveless grasp, hitting the ground with a small thunk which sounded almost crystalline clear on the suddenly eerily silent lakeside road.

"Ken-chan!" The pit seemingly flew up from the ground, bouncing off the forehead of the man looming behind him, interrupting whatever he might have been about to say to the fruit seller, who wasn't about to complain, though the thought of having to somehow protect the child from that monster did occur to him. But then the tension suddenly dropped, and he fell to his knees, remembering to breathe once more, ignored by the man who stalked around him with a growl of annoyance.

"Dammit, Yachiru. Quit throwin' stuff at me like that! This is worse than when you figured out the word 'no', fer fuck's sake!"

"Ken-chan be nice! Plum!" And she lifted both hands up, after quickly rubbing the one having picked the pit from the ground on her kimono, to ensure that the fruit so presented to Kenpachi was as clean as it had been when handed to her. "PLUM!"

"Yeah, I can see it's a plum, but what're you doin' with… Aw hell, don't give me that look, dammit." The fruit seller dared to peek over his shoulder, and found himself smiling faintly once more despite the fearsome man standing nearby - for he was obviously entirely cowed by the moppet on the ground, beaming up at him in indescribable delight. "Right. Plum. Give it over, then, c'mon." The sharp, demanding and impatient gesture was betrayed by the underlying gentleness and precision as he neatly plucked the fruit from the little girl's grasp. "There, I'm eating the damn… plum…"

The fruit seller smiled, even as the girl giggled and gave him a smug look. His plum trees were most beloved, and the plums they produced the best far and wide in the region. While it would not be quite the same as it had been for the girl, who had clearly never even tasted a plum before, the fruit seller knew without a doubt that the one the man was eating likely was one of the best, sweetest and yet tartest plums he'd ever had.

"Huh." A narrow-eyed gaze slid sideways towards the fruit seller, a warning not to be too smug which was somewhat dispelled by a merrily humming pink haired tot scrambling for both the fruit seller and the basket of plum, managing to interpose herself between the provider of plums and Kenpachi in the process. "Fine. He can live," was the disgusted capitulation, drawing a rather pained look from the man on the ground, who had no doubt that the comment had been entirely serious.

Yachiru cheered and peered into the basket still being carefully held by the man sitting on the ground, and waited for the fruit seller to reach in and select another of the most perfectest plums ever, just for her.

Current Mood: tired