Decided that shince this was my fiftieth drabble, I'd do something a bit special. Here are 16 drabbles, one on each of the people who have held Captaincy. Thank you to everyone who has read, thank you again to those who have also reviewed.

Spoilers for Soul Society Arc and episode 112.

Disclaimers: Bleach isn't mine, I own none of these characters. Also, the punchline of Yamamoto's drabble is from Terry Pratchett's wonderful Discworld series, so therefore that is not mine either.

---

Yamamoto did not consider himself old or out-of touch. He certainly was not quick to anger, overbearing, or senile. If sometimes he needed more rest than other people, certainly that was understandable.

He was fair and kind, sometimes too kind, in his opinion.

But after today’s events, that would stop. That is, it would stop as soon as he was sure every one of the sticky notes stuck on him by Ichimaru and Kyoraku when he dozed off during a Captain’s meeting were off. Especially the ones tangled in his beard.

What in Sereitei did “I ATE’NT DEAD” mean, anyways?

--

Something about fast-stepping through the trees exhilarated SoiFon. The suddenly looming branches and bursts of birds from the leaves she had to dodge meant she was alive.

Perhaps it was the fact that when she moved this quickly, Omaeda couldn’t keep up, and couldn’t drop disgusting crumbs on her. She’d already washed her hair twice today because of him.

Or maybe, in moving this quickly and gracefully she reminded herself of someone else, someone lithe, faster, and whom SoiFon longed to see.

Once utterly devoted, always utterly devoted, in SoiFon’s mind. One day, her princess would hold her once more.

--

Ichimaru Gin didn’t like people who showed their emotions on their face. To him, it was a sign of weakness.

It was a dead giveaway if someone like Byakuya or Tousen smirked. He knew to send Kira to check out his office and house before he got there. Lovely, loyal Kira.

No, it was far easier to always smile. This way, when he grinned at the snotty Kuchiki heir, Byakuya didn’t suspect any more than usual that the legs of his chair had been mostly sawn-through. Or that hornets now lurked in his drawers.

Masks made pranks, and life, easier.

--

While Unohana preferred days with no emergencies, she was proud of the way her little family responded to serious wounds.

Each of them was well-trained, and while a few were lacking in bedside manner, they all were efficient and intelligent. You couldn’t be lazy and make it in the Fourth.

Currently Hanatarou was running bandages to members of the Eleventh who had decided to ‘play’ today, Isane was running a new cough syrup to the Thirteenth, and Iemura was trying to write in his diary.

Unohana stood smiling in the middle of it, directing. Chaos was orderly, in her hands.

--

Once, Aizen watched a movie where the librarian-type girl became more attractive after taking off her glasses. Unohana joked with him later that night, but the frames did not leave his nose.

Another time, Hinamori said that pictures of the squad should show everyone’s eyes, and this meant he should take the glasses off, displaying his warm brown eyes. He only smiled.

He knows that the day he takes them off when anyone besides Gin is around is the day he leaves. After all, eyes are windows to the soul. And he can’t have anyone knowing what he’s truly thinking.

--

It was widely believed that Byakuya had no sense of humor. This was not true. Byakuya simply did not display it often.

To him, humor was like any other weapon, trained for use when needed only.

On days when Renji dozed off at his desk, for example, all one needed was a handful of cherry petals, tossed with the breeze, to make the vice-captain VERY alert.

And today, even with his chair collapsing and hornets in his desk, Byakuya still wore a small smile. Ichimaru would never expect laxative in his tea. Not on days when Byakuya carefully avoided smirking.

--

Sometimes Komamura wondered what he had done in his past life to account for how he looked now. And sometimes he wished there was a way to change his height, other than one of Mayuri’s disturbing devices. Especially when he hit his head on the doorframe, again.

At least when he’d worn the mask he didn’t get huge bumps. Now, though, he was contemplating going back. Anything to save his swollen and bruised forehead, and to block out the sound of people snickering when he staggered backwards.

In the meantime, he needed an ice pack, and to start considering hats.

--

Irrepressible. Some considered that an insult. Kyoraku Shunsui called it a compliment, and tried to be called irrepressible at least three times a week.

Nanao-chan was always good for one, as was Jyuu-kun. The third was a random surprise, different each week.

Today, Shunsui decided, he would buy a rose and present it to the first lovely lady that walked by. Then he would flirt with her for the rest of the day or until Nanao found him and beat him over the head with her book and his hat. Whichever happened first.

Secretly, he’d prefer Nanao to find him.

--

There were chaotic beings in this world, and they needed to be put out of their pain. The world would be better off without them. Or so Tousen told himself. It was justice.

And yet Kenpachi was still alive. It went against the nature of the world to let such beings live…

Tousen’s inner monologue was interrupted as Zaraki grabbed the blind captain’s Zanpakutou and bragged about figuring out the trick.

It was at this moment that Tousen vowed to himself not to suffer such creatures to live, ever. From now on, he would hunt down such foul abominations, mercifully.

--

Hitsugaya hated captain’s meetings. Hated them. He couldn’t see Yamamoto from a regular sitting position, because Tousen was in the way. And if he leaned farther forward, his view was blocked by Kyoraku’s hat and billowing kimono. How it billowed in a closed room was beyond him.

Also, when he leaned farther forward, he saw Ichimaru smirk and heard Zaraki snicker. At least Tousen would never notice.

After every meeting, though, Unohana snuck him a watermelon-flavored lollipop, making all this worth it. Hitsugaya returned to his office, chased Matsumoto out for being too noisy for paperwork, and enjoyed in private.

--

There was one problem with fighting against Captains who had Bankai, Kenpachi mused. They relied entirely too much on tricks. Zaraki Kenpachi relied on skill, speed, and strength, and thus was free to enjoy his fights instead of hiding behind darkness or bashing at random.

He was free to dance the blades; he was strong enough to stand.

One day, he would find his true match. It would be someone who didn’t rely on tricks or allies, someone who could defeat Zaraki one-on-one.

On that day, Zaraki Kenpachi would die, but to his way of thinking, he would finally live.

--

Kurotsuchi Mayuri was at home in his lab. The orderly tools of his trade – vials, tubes, chemicals, and specimens – were a welcome change from the chaos of egos and emotions elsewhere.

Granted, he had a huge ego himself, and he knew it. But there was a huge difference in demonstrating it through taking on foes in hopes of collecting specimens or bragging about surpassing an exile versus slicing a building in half just because you could and thought it was fun.

All the same, though, the lab felt like home. Others might reject and scorn him, but science never would.

--

Smiling came naturally to Ukitake. He had bad days, true, and his bad days were worse than some people’s nightmares. However, he’d learned that life goes more smoothly when you smile.

This knowledge did not come easily. But Jyuushiro was not easily dissuaded, either.

He set out to be the cause of smiles, so that others could simply feel the warmth of happiness without the burning edge of grief. It didn’t always work.

That was fine. At the end of the day, if even one person smiled a bit more, then Ukitake’s efforts were worth it, paid back in full.

--

The form of a cat was the perfect choice. Yoruichi considered herself lithe, quick, and graceful, and these were associated with felines.

She also had a fondness for curling up on windowsills, a task that was a bit difficult in human form. Difficult hadn’t stopped her before, though.

There was something about the narrow ledge that led to her falling off, repeatedly. And then she had bruises to explain later.

After three days of work, five sheets of plywood, two-hundred fifty-two nails, a hammer, and an uncountable amount of swearwords, the ledge was extended, and Yoruichi took a much-welcome nap.

--

Isshin didn’t know how to tell his children the right way to live. So he showed them through example.

To have an industrious and honorable daughter, they need opportunity to work. Karin and Yuzu cooked, cleaned, and helped out in the clinic.

To have a strong son, make sure they can deal with anything. Isshin was proud of the many ways he’d woken Ichigo up, or welcomed Ichigo home. Pitchers, doors, tables, desks, any prop could be utilized in training a strong son. And if this meant Isshin landed in a Quincy-run hospital with fifteen stitches, so much the better.

--

Urahara had a feeling that if he’d had his fan back in Sereitei, he might not now be in exile. It was just a hunch, but there was something about hiding part of your face that made people confused about your intentions.

Exile wasn’t too much of a burden, at least. Yes, he still got homesick, especially when he sent Ichigo and friends into Soul Society. But Earth had potential. Plenty of mischevious potential.

Where else could you create an army of modified souls, plushie and otherwise? Or endlessly tease Quincy?

Karakura Town wasn’t paradise, but it was close enough.