Yachiru and Zaraki

In the center of the Zaraki District, beside that broken well.

A dozen or so figures held their breath and tiptoed out from the shadows and ruins around them, inch by inch.

Their eyes were fixed on the motionless figure lying in the middle of the open ground. They clutched all kinds of things that could take a life: rusty scraps of iron, sharpened bones, and wooden clubs with rocks tied to them.

At their head was the skinny man Kurayashiki Kenpachi had thrown away earlier.

His eyes darted about, filled half with fear and half with barely restrained greed and madness.

They moved slowly, each step cautious, as if the ground were covered in invisible spikes.

The distance shrank: five meters, four meters, three meters...

Three meters.

That legendary "three meters."

Everyone stopped dead at that distance. The air froze for several seconds.

The person on the ground still hadn't moved. Only his chest rose and fell faintly with each breath.

The skinny man was the first to crack. His shoulders began to tremble, then his whole body shook.

He bared the few yellow teeth he had left. "Three meters! Did you see that? Three meters! We made it in!"

He spun around and snarled at the others, whose eyes were just as bloodshot, spittle flying from his mouth:

"Ever since that monster came to the Zaraki District, anyone who got within three meters of him got cut down! Some died, some were crippled! That other great villain was tough, wasn't he? He lasted a few extra strikes, but still ended up lying there!"

He panted heavily, a trembling finger pointing at the young man on the ground. "But what about now? He let us get close! He's lying right here! You know what that means? He's finished! That Shinigami's strike crippled him!"

Greed burned away the last of his doubts. A strange cry rose from the skinny man's throat. "The monster's head is mine! Nobody else gets it!"

Gripping the rusty blade that was missing half its length, he charged first.

He was going to cut off the head of the "monster" who had once made the whole Zaraki District tremble. Maybe then he could become the new "great villain"!

The others couldn't hold back any longer.

"Take him apart!" someone howled. A dozen figures surged forward at once, waving their battered weapons!

They would tear apart this former symbol of fear and use his flesh and blood to proclaim the start of a new era!

"You'd better not go over there."

A voice spoke up, light and soft with a little girl's distinctive sweetness.

"You'll die."

Everyone froze, including the skinny man, who was already halfway through his charge.

Their stiff necks turned toward the voice.

Beneath the half-dead old tree beside the well, a little girl was standing there. No one knew when she had appeared.

She was tiny, dressed in an ill-fitting old garment, faded from countless washes, and her short pink hair was a little messy.

She stood quietly, her small face expressionless as she watched them.

A brief silence.

Then a burst of raucous laughter erupted.

"Ha! Hahahaha!" The skinny man doubled over laughing and wiped away the tears of mirth.

"Where'd you come from, little brat? You're so 'lucky' to have 'dropped' straight into the Zaraki District!"

He deliberately stressed the word "dropped." In the Rukongai, newly arrived souls could appear anywhere. Landing in the Zaraki District was basically starting the game on the hardest difficulty.

He looked the pink-haired girl up and down and said maliciously, "Just wait. Once we're done with this monster, we'll 'teach' you all about how to 'survive' in the Zaraki District." His cruelty was plain for all to hear.

The little girl wasn't frightened by him. She watched them intently and repeated herself, her voice clear:

"You really will die."

"Die? Why would we die? Just because this crippled—" The skinny man sneered and turned around, ready to finish his "beheading."

His smile froze instantly.

A shadow fell over him without warning.

It wasn't that the sky had darkened. Rather, a presence heavy with the stench of rust and blood had suddenly appeared right behind him.

The skinny man had survived this long in the Zaraki District thanks to an almost animal-like instinct for danger and absolutely shameless reflexes.

The moment he sensed the shadow, every thought of greed and every dream of becoming a great villain flew out of his head. Only the most primal urge to survive remained.

Turn around! Drop to his knees! Beg for mercy! He ran through the whole routine in an instant, and his body immediately followed: he turned and bent his knees...

A soft squelch.

Like a ripe fruit being sliced open.

The skinny man's face still wore a twisted expression of terror, poised to beg for mercy, but his eyes were already glazing over.

He felt a chill at his neck. Then all his strength, all his thoughts, drained away with that fleeting coldness.

Thud, thud, thud, thud...

A string of heavy falls rang out almost simultaneously.

The dozen Wandering Souls who had been so aggressive moments ago now lay scattered across the ground.

Their wounds varied, but they had all died instantly. The open ground fell so quiet that the only sound was the wind moaning through the broken well.

The young man stood there, casually gripping the serrated long blade in his right hand. Beads of blood slowly dripped from its tip.

He raised his left hand to his neck and rolled it from side to side. His cervical vertebrae made a soft crackling sound.

He looked down at his chest. The terrible wound Kurayashiki Kenpachi had cut into him earlier had vanished.

Only a faint, slender scar remained on his skin, as if it were an old injury.

He tilted his head slightly, studying the blade in his hand with some confusion, then glanced around at the corpses that had died in an instant.

"Did I get stronger?"

He murmured to himself, his voice full of uncertainty.

The strength that had surged through his body the moment he woke, the ease with which he'd swung his blade—it all seemed different from before.

Before he could figure it out, he felt someone tug lightly at his trouser leg.

He looked down.

The pink-haired girl had somehow come up beside him. She gazed up at him, her small hand gripping the fabric of his trouser leg.

"Brat," the young man said, his voice still hoarse and rough. "What are you doing?"

The little girl didn't answer. She just looked up at him, her eyes large and bright.

The young man met her gaze as the wind swept sand between them in the Zaraki District.

They stared at each other in silence for quite a while.

The little girl didn't seem afraid of him at all. She simply clung stubbornly to his trouser leg.

At last, the young man looked away first.

"Come with me," he said, his tone flat.

The girl's eyes immediately curved into crescent moons.

"Mm!" She nodded vigorously, her voice clear and bright.

Then, before the young man could react, she scrambled nimbly up his broad frame and settled on his shoulder. Her small hand naturally grabbed a lock of his loose black hair.

She swung her legs and asked with a grin, "What's your name?"

"My name?" The young man set off toward the general direction of Seireitei, his steps steady, as if having someone on his shoulder was no different from carrying a leaf.

"I don't have one."

"Me neither," the little girl said, shaking her head, her pink hair swaying along with it. "I really wish I had a name." She pouted, looking a little disappointed.

A name... The young man listened to the little girl's muttering as he walked through the desolate streets of the Zaraki District.

Was there some shadow buried in the deepest part of his memory, somehow connected to a "name"?

A syllable slipped to his lips without warning.

"Yachiru," he said suddenly.

"Hm?" The little girl blinked.

"From now on, your name is Yachiru," the young man repeated.

"Yachiru..." Yachiru rolled the name around in her mouth, her cheeks puffing out. She clearly wasn't entirely pleased with it.

But she didn't object. She just tugged on his hair again. "What about you? What's your name?"

"Me?" He thought for a moment. "From now on, call me Zaraki."

"Oh!" Yachiru nodded, quickly accepting this arrangement, then started swinging her legs again. "Zaraki, where are we going now?"

Zaraki's shoulder was steady, and Yachiru sat comfortably.

He raised a hand and pointed in a certain direction.

"Seireitei."

"To find those guys in white."