Kenpachi Zaraki
West District 10, outside Yone Village.
Tall poplar trees lined the loess road, their shadows swaying lightly in the breeze.
Taro slumped to the ground, trembling, vowing never again to play in such a dangerous place.
The last time he and his friends played hide-and-seek here, they'd run into Kenji and his gang. That time, they nearly wet themselves from fear.
But this time was far worse. This time, they had encountered a Shinigami—a towering, monstrous figure, far more terrifying than Kenji and his lackeys.
Taro raised his head. The Shinigami before him seemed taller than the trees themselves. His spiked hair, like a porcupine's, jutted upward toward the sky, with tiny bells dangling from the tips that chimed faintly with each movement.
A long scar ran from his left forehead down to his jaw. An eyepatch covered his right eye, his chin sharp and angular, his entire face resembling a demon straight out of hell.
His gaze shifted downward.
The instant their eyes met, Taro lost control and wet himself completely. All hope of survival vanished from his heart.
He was doomed.
"Tsk."
Zaraki Kenpachi's lips curled slightly in annoyance when he noticed the trembling brats had pissed themselves.
From his shoulder, a tiny girl with cotton-candy pink hair hopped down effortlessly, smiling brightly.
"Don't be scared of Ken-chan," Yachiru Kusajishi said cheerfully. "He won't hurt you."
"Yachiru, quit spouting nonsense."
Kenpachi exhaled deeply, irritation plain on his face. He had no patience for weaklings. To him, kids like these were fragile blades of grass, broken by the faintest breeze.
"Ken-chan, be polite when you ask people," Yachiru chided, puffing up her cheeks before turning back to the children with a smile. "Hey, hey! Did you see a man with silver hair tied in a ponytail? He's in his early twenties, kind of plain-looking, wearing strange clothes."
In truth, Shiraishi wasn't plain at all—he was balanced in every way and generally handsome. But in Yachiru's eyes, anyone without a scar as bold as Ken-chan's, or an eyepatch, barely counted as noticeable.
Silver hair. Ponytail. Strange clothes.
Taro immediately thought of his elder brother, Shiraishi. His stomach tightened, but courage welled up inside him. He couldn't betray his brother. Still, faced with Kenpachi's presence, he stammered, "I-I saw him… He ran west!"
"Really? West?" Kenpachi's single eye lit up with excitement. Lately, all he'd encountered were either giant Hollows or self-proclaimed tough guys who folded in a single strike. None of them gave him the thrill of battle he craved.
But now—finally—there was someone worth chasing.
"Let's go, Yachiru."
"Okay, Ken-chan! This way!" Yachiru perched back onto his shoulder and pointed south—while confidently declaring it was west.
"Oh," Kenpachi said simply, before charging off in the direction she indicated without the slightest hesitation.
The two disappeared with decisive speed, leaving Taro and his friends stunned.
"That's… south, right?" Taro asked weakly.
"Yes, south."
"Definitely south."
"They say he's legendarily bad with directions," another boy whispered knowingly.
Relieved, Taro exhaled. "No more fun today. Everyone scatter—go home and change your pants."
No one objected. After all, every last one of them had wet themselves.
---
Back in Yone Village, the streets were wide and winding. Thatched houses, mostly square in shape, stood in casual clusters as long as there was room for paths between them. People wore simple linen clothes and straw sandals, moving about calmly.
Though West District 10 wasn't as refined as District 1, it was far more prosperous than the outer slums of Rukongai. Here, people had clean clothes, sturdy sandals, and steady livelihoods—thanks not only to abundant resources, but also to the village elders' leadership.
Unlike the chaos of the outer districts, where strength alone dictated order, these villages thrived under respected elders who mediated with the Shinigami and even the nobles. Through them, work was stable, and life, if modest, was secure.
Taro hurried through the streets, greeting familiar faces, before sneaking toward his home, hunched and cautious, hoping to slip in unnoticed.
"Stop right there!"
His mother, a plain-looking woman in her early forties, spotted him instantly. Reading her son's guilty posture, she stormed over.
"M-Mom…" Taro swallowed hard. His fear in that moment rivaled even what he felt before Zaraki Kenpachi.
"Why are your pants wet?"
"I-It's nothing!"
Her eyes narrowed. Grabbing his ear, she dragged him inside. "Tell me the truth!"
"It hurts! Mom, stop! I swear, I just… I just saw a Shinigami!"
"What?!" She immediately pulled his shirt open, checking for wounds. Finding none, she sighed in relief. "Good. You didn't offend him, did you?"
"N-No, I'm smart! He was looking for big brother, so I told him Shiraishi went west—but they ran south instead! Hilarious, right?"
Pride flickered on Taro's face.
But his mother's expression darkened. Grabbing a bamboo switch, she forced him to his knees.
"You stupid boy! How many times have I told you—don't provoke Shinigami! If they realize you lied and come back angry, you'll be dead! I'll beat you to death first!"
"Waaah!" Taro wailed as the stick struck.
Just then, Shiraishi stepped through the door, freezing at the sight of his little brother getting whipped.
Taro, sniffling through tears, tried to act manly. "B-Big brother, welcome home. Sit wherever you like. Mom will pour you tea… after she's done beating me."
His mother's stern face softened instantly when she looked at Shiraishi. "Bai-kun, please sit. I'll fetch tea once I deal with this brat."
The contrast was like a masterful performance in a Sichuan opera—two faces in an instant.
Shiraishi frowned. "What did Taro do this time?"
"He actually dared to trick a Shinigami! If I don't beat it out of him, he'll never learn!"
"B-but big brother!" Taro whined. "It was that scary Shinigami looking for you, so I told him you went west!"
Shiraishi narrowed his eyes. "…Describe him."
"He had an eyepatch over his right eye, hair like thorns, and… and the cutest little pink-haired girl with him!"
At the mention of Yachiru, Taro's cheeks reddened. It was the first time he'd ever seen a girl so adorable, about his age.
"You little fool!" his mother snapped, landing another sharp strike with the bamboo switch.
Shiraishi, however, immediately recognized the description. Zaraki Kenpachi, Captain of the 11th Division… and his ever-present lieutenant, Kusajishi Yachiru.
So that was why they had come for him. Not because of petty reasons—but because Kenpachi was hunting for a strong opponent.
Shiraishi sighed. He wasn't a battle fanatic like Zaraki. Fights without purpose—or gain—were nothing but a waste to him.
He shook his head. "Don't worry. They won't hurt Taro. Ten minutes of whipping is more than enough punishment."
Taro burst into tears again but forced out a grateful smile. "You're the best, big brother!"