This crack pairing has somehow become my favorite Bleach pair. Well...after RukRen... I'm writing a much longer story for KenUno but decided to take a break and jot down something fun and easy. I expect to update once per week. Yell at me if I don't!

I don't own Bleach, fanfiction is for fun only and I get nothing more than the pleasure out of writing & knowing others read this stuff...

Kenpachi shoved another breath through his lungs, pain from cracked ribs buzzing like a persistent gnat. Everything hurt and none of it was worth thinking about. Cold sliced at his exposed skin, toes had long ago ceased reporting the misery of snow crunching between them. He imagined he still wore his sandals but couldn't say for sure and had no interest in checking. Kenpachi's crown of bells had disintegrated during the fight, most of the bells lost, and his hair was now frozen against his face and neck. His eye patch had fallen off in the fight; that same raging hollow had struck him hard enough to break two ribs and dislocate his sword arm.

But all of that was nothing to Kenpachi. He only concerned himself with holding onto Yachiru, curled up in his good arm, and pressing forward. If he kept going he should find something, some kind of place to rest, it stood to reason. His vision had dimmed to a vague point in the distance. He was on a mountain of some kind, perhaps on a path. It didn't matter, the only thing that mattered was forcing himself to keep moving.

A figure, white and black, stepped into Kenpachi's path. He didn't bother focusing on it any further than determining it was not a threat. He figured it would get out of the way on its own. He was faintly puzzled when it didn't and instead put a hand to his chest.

All of the buzzing became distinct sources of pain and agony from the burning muscles, stiff from holding Yachiru, to the overwhelmed nerves in his feet, slowly succumbing to the frost. He jerked back from the person touching him – shorter than most, and female – and made to reach for his sword when the fury of the dislocated shoulder made him howl. For a split second he truly worried that he couldn't defend himself or Yachiru.

He looked at the woman in front of him, eyes finding hers, and realized he knew the deep blue set in the kind face. Furthermore, he realized Unohana was speaking to him.

"Captain Zaraki! Captain! Please contain yourself!" The pressure of her palm over his chest became more insistent. "Please, Captain Zaraki, restrain your reiatsu and we will be able to help you and your Lieutenant. Your wounds need attention and both you and Lieutenant Kusajishi are suffering from exposure and, I suspect, hypothermia."

Kenpachi stared at her through her speech. Then he looked around and realized he hadn't just left a trail behind him but a whole swath had been cut through the snow, tree branches had snapped and the earth was scorched. The same was true for nearly ten feet ahead of him.

He stared back at Unohana dumbly. He wasn't quite sure what was wrong here. She was in his way. He needed to get to a town or cave or something. Yachiru needed to rest and eat. What the hell was her problem?

Unohana pursed her lips. "Allow me to take care of Lieutenant Kusajishi, Captain Zaraki." She put her other hand to Kenpachi's good arm. "She's in need of water and food and we have both."

Kenpachi thought about this and realized it would be good for Yachiru. Slowly he pulled his arm open and let Unohana take the child from him. Cold rushed in to the side of this chest where she had snuggled; his arm was stiff as hell. He put his hand to the hilt of his sword and felt better.

Unohana was holding Yachiru with some difficulty. Yachiru was small but no longer a baby and Unohana was short enough that holding the girl took effort. The Captain of the 4th Squad ran a thumb along Yachiru's lips. She pulled up an eyelid. She adjusted the child to feel her feet. "Captain Zaraki, you may like to know your Lieutenant will be fine. Frostbite is not an issue for her." She looked up at him. "But I need to pass her to my Lieutenant for care while I treat your wounds. I can't do that while you still exude reiatsu as if in the midst of battle."

Kenpachi began to let go of his reiatsu, telling his fight-nerves to calm down. Letting go of the tension took effort, almost as if he had forgotten how, as if those muscles had also gotten stiff. But marking the absence of the reiatsu was the pressure of considerable pain, immense cold, an empty stomach, a clouded mind. He would have laughed at himself and his pitiful state if he could have. Instead he stumbled back a step before falling to his knees.

At once a larger pair of feet joined Unohana's. "Isane, I leave Lieutenant Kusajishi's care up to you. See that you bundle her up and make her drink some lukewarm water at once. When she is awake enough give her some broth. You may need to relieve her skin of damage from wind and sun."

"Yes, Captain! Leave her to me." The feet were gone again.

That's that, thought Kenpachi. Yachiru's all settled. Tufts of white flitted across his fractured field of vision. A spiderweb of black thickened before his eyes. Dimly he was aware of Unohana's hand on his face and her voice calling his name, or rather his official title. It just meant he was settled too, one way or the other. He at least managed to topple over onto his good arm as the blackness swallowed his mind.