Rating: PG-13 for dead bodies.
The house stunk in the darkness. Metal glinted in the moonlight along with blades of ice and a young boy known only by the name Haku knelt down to peer at the body before him. The vision below was framed by the thin wood of his mask, somehow separating him from the reality of the murder he'd just committed with his barely teenage hands. The blood seemed to only be a reflection and somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered if him wearing the mask was one of the reasons he was able to deal with this new reality so easily.
The body in front of him was still, killed simply from three needles, one to the head and two to the heart, all hitting with perfect precision. The body would have been dead with one blow, but he always used three needles to be sure there were no mistakes. That's what he'd been taught – the perfect tool didn't make mistakes and did the job right the first time.
Haku stood up from the body and stepped back, checking the room around him. Nothing was left in the area, not even his needles, which he now held in his hand, cleaning on the belt from his clothing. There was no evidence of a break in and the murder had been committed silently, just as they were hired to do. Perfect.
Behind him there were foot steps and Haku turned, silently regarding his large and tall partner, mentor and caretaker. Zabuza was one of the best and he'd taken much of his time to make sure that Haku was even better, in spite of his young age. In reality, Haku was merely another tool of this large man, scarcely the same size as the large blade he carried on his back. How ironic, Haku always thought, that him and the blade were nearly the same height, and served the same purpose.
Zabuza gave him a nod, indicating that the job was done and he'd taken care of the female who'd been in the back room. Neither of them knew the couple whose lives they'd just ended. It didn't matter, it was a job. You never took the time to learn about those you killed beyond enough information to kill them, or you because attached. Tools didn't care about the jobs they did or the lives they stopped.
Mission done and job complete both moved toward the door to disappear into the night. Something, however, caught Haku's eye, and he stopped.
"Boy?" Zabuza turned, his voice rough and muffled from the cloth he habitually wore over the lower half of his face.
Haku's eyes focused on a small stuffed animal sitting in the corner of the room. It was barely visible in the moonlight, thanks to the formerly white fur having been dyed from years of play in dust and mud. The thing was really in poor shape, but Haku frowned under his mask.
"They had a child."
The large man frowned and glanced around the small two room house. Haku slowly stood up from the stuffed animal and moved around, paying extra close attention to the small areas where a child could hide. While most killers would have thought it would have been impossible for a child to stay quiet while watching its parents being killed, Haku knew from personal experience that you never underestimate a child. He himself had proved that many times as Zabuza often used Haku's age as an advantage in their many missions.
A quick scan of the house revealed signs of a child, but no child themselves. As night had already fallen many hours ago it seemed likely that the child was off somewhere else, or for that matter was already dead and perhaps the stuffed animal was just a keepsake of the parents to remember a child who had never had the chance to grow beyond such things. Whatever the case, they were the only two beings left living in the house, and that meant their mission was fulfilled. Haku spared one more glance toward the forgotten animal in its poor and ragged state, then turned back to Zabuza and followed him out the door.
Haku remembered a similar animal which he'd once had, back before his parents had turned on him. But for the life of him he couldn't remember what animal it had been, only that it had had soft fur and had played the pillow for many nights in his bed.
He dismissed the thought. Weapons had no need for such things.
One might be fooled from his outer appearance. He was a large man, tall and yet not thin at all, instead rather solidly built with muscles and well shaped proportions from hours of training and living under varied harsh conditions. Speed and agility accompanied brute strength and cleverness, leaving little to be desired in this ninja. He always completed his missions quickly and perfectly, especially now that he had the best of weapons at his disposal.
And yet no matter how often Zabuza reminded himself and Haku that this young boy was just a weapon, it never escaped Zabuza's mind that in fact this child that followed him on missions and killed with silent deadly skill was exactly that, a child. In spite of the molding and shaping, nothing could make the original being disappear from within.
He'd seen the boy regard the stuffed thing in the corner. Only Haku's trained eyes would catch such a small thing, especially from behind that smooth white mask. Haku viewed their scenes with cool and precise detail and never left a single thing unnoticed, so it was no surprise when he'd spotted the small stuffed shape of fluff in the corner, nor that he'd drawn the obvious conclusion.
It wasn't even a surprise to Zabuza that his perfectly trained weapon had stopped a second longer then normal to regard the thing once more before they'd left. Haku was, after all, a child and many children were drawn to such things especially at his age. Zabuza didn't need Haku to lift his mask to tell what the boy was thinking, living with him and observing his movements made many of his emotions which he kept so well hidden all too clear.
It wasn't that Zabuza hadn't noticed, it was simply that he didn't care. Haku didn't need such things. He was sure if he asked the boy himself, he would simply shake his head and make a point that weapons had no need of such toys. Haku slept next to a fire, wrapped in a thick blanket and his toys were the simple needles he'd become so skilled with, along with his weapons of ice. Childish stuffed animals and other such things were of no concern to either of them.
Still, Zabuza couldn't help but wonder, if even for a moment, what had really passed through Haku's mind when he'd seen that thing. What had he really thought before his favorite chosen mantra of being a weapon had shoved it away
Zabuza angrily pushed that thought away himself, dismissing it. It didn't matter. Haku had chosen to become exactly what Zabuza needed him for, a weapon. If he was a child that needed such things as stuffed animals, warm hugs and little wooden toys then Zabuza had no use for him and would be better off leaving him in the next village. Such things were past and unimportant. There was no reason to even consider them. Such things cause a weapon to be weak and dull, to the point where sharpening only scratched the stone and such things were better left discarded in favor of newer and sharper blades.
Zabuza was roused out of his own deep thoughts as Haku came bounding up the trail they were traveling, dressed in his normal kimono and knee length shorts. The boy wasn't wearing his mask, nor was he carrying his weapons in sight and actually, for a second, looked more like a young girl with his long hair flowing freely around his head. He brushed the hair back and ran a bit quicker, finally catching up to the shape bounding toward Zabuza.
The rabbit stopped, rearing up on its hind legs when it spotted the tall man. Even animals seemed to react to his menacing presence and this rabbit seemed no exception as it stopped and for a moment panicked about which direction it could take to escape. That moment of panicking was enough for Haku to dart forward, catching it by its ears and pulling it up into his arms, securing the animal from escaping again.
"I brought dinner." The boy's face lit up with a smile which seemed far too sincere and pure for any child who'd committed such crimes. It was that exact innocence that was Haku's most cunning tool. The ability he'd perfected to go from such childlike innocence to a deadly blank slate, cold as the snow from his own country. In many ways it was what made him so valuable to Zabuza, and also the thing that unnerved the large ninja the most.
Zabuza nodded gruffly and turned prodding the fire he'd built with a stick to make the flames rise a bit more. Behind him he heard a thick snap along with the muffled sound of a dying animal and Zabuza turned to see Haku kneeling there holding the now dead rabbit in his arms, the smile gone without a trace, replaced with his cool expression that had become all too familiar. Haku seemed to have no trouble attaching the rabbit to a thick piece of wood so it could be cooked and skinning it... the very same creature he'd been chasing a moment ago with a bright smile on his face.
The sign of a true weapon, Zabuza often thought, was its ability to even surprise and scare its master at the most unexpected moments.
Both ate the rabbit in silence, neither saying anything else.
This time the body was young and the large blue eyes stared up at their killer, looking to be dead and made of glass which could easily shatter with a breath. Small hands clutched a small animal and Zabuza found himself, for a breathtaking moment, staring back into Haku's eyes as he held that rabbit in his arms, both dead and unmoving.
He stepped back from the child quickly, the image fading back to uneven blond curls with new highlights of wet red staining their edges. Icy blue eyes became a dark dead black and the body turned to that of a young girl who'd had the misfortune of being present during her father's death. She lay only feet away from his already dead body, the moonlight stolen by the clouds so that only their outlines were visible in the fading light of the embers from the fireplace.
She was holding a stuffed rabbit, dark brown in color and made of some thickly woven material so that it resembled fur like the actual animal. Half the side of its face and one ear were laying face down in the blood which drained from her body to the packed mud floor, staining the fabric and merging the two colors.
She had been the reason Haku wasn't here tonight, and Zabuza was alone. Part of having a perfectly trained and sharpened weapon was knowing when to use it and when it was better left at home. In this case, in spite of all Haku's training, Zabuza refused to let him participate in a mission that would involve him killing a child so close to his own age. It was one thing to train a boy. It was quite another to destroy him. Zabuza had little care for the boy inside Haku's deadly shell, but rather for the preservation of his weapon. He wasn't confident in Haku's ability to take down children his own age and not retain some scar of the action, at least not yet.
That's what he'd told himself.
Though, in the next moment, when he snatched up the stuffed animal from the dead girl's limp arms, Zabuza's mind was curiously devoid of any completed thoughts. He concentrated on the dark night around him and all the sounds coming from outside, all the while tucking the animal between his back and the sheath of his long blade, as if it were simply another weapon which he'd previously had hidden from sight. The action contained no other thoughts save for the practiced movement and soon he was gone from the house, leaving the sharp smell of blood and death as his only calling card.
Arriving back at their temporary camp site he found Haku waiting up as usual, perched on a tree branch to cover him, should anyone have followed him back in pursuit. The young boy surveyed the area, then jumped down once he was sure it was safe.
"We collect payment and leave early tomorrow. We'll eat in the morning." It was a simple order. Dinner had been skipped in favor of haste and accuracy. Skipping a meal or two was normal enough.
Haku responded with a nod and simply moved dust onto the small fire, leaving it with only the smallest of burns to provide a small light for the area without much smoke for night time protection. Then, without a word, Haku settled down under his own blanket to sleep.
Zabuza seated himself on the other side of the camp fire, not moving or saying a word as he watched Haku's silent back. He knew from long nights that the boy slept lightly and would always protect him from any one or thing that stumbled across them. Still he couldn't tell now if Haku were sleeping or not. Like in many things, the boy excelled at his training and his feigned sleeping was as real as the real thing, leaving even Zabuza to wonder now and then.
A slight thought to the action and Zabuza detached the sheath from his back, the small stuffed animal falling to the ground at his feet. Behind him Haku stirred and sat up, looking at him in curious interest.
A glance down at the stuffed thing and a glance to Haku. Zabuza didn't allow himself more then that as he grabbed the stuffed animal roughly and tossed it to the boy, not even looking to watch as it landed right at the edge of the fire. The message itself was clear, take it or burn it. Zabuza laid down on his side of the fire, his back to Haku ready to drift off to sleep with the smell of burning fabric and cooked feathers.
What he heard next surprised him. Zabuza watched in the faint reflection on his sword as Haku reached forward and retrieved the stuffed animal from the fire, lightly brushing the embers from its charred arm. The fabric was partially burnt with a feather or two peeking out and hinting at escape even with their singed edges. And yet, the boy brushed away the ashes with care and held the stuffed animal by its ears, regarding it with a quiet expression.
Perhaps it was a trick of the reflection and lack of light, but this was an expression Zabuza had never seen on Haku's face before. A mix of curiosity and childish sadness tinged his smooth features and Zabuza had a feeling that this was a face the boy never showed anyone, not even himself. The only one meant to see this face was the stuffed brown creature with the beaded eyes and bloodstained face, not the heartless assassin that lay across from him in silence.
Haku's fingers brushed over the blood stain, which had now dried to a dark red, marring the soft brown color which this thing had been dyed to. Light childish fingers touched the mark as if it were a cut, softly brushing against it to test if it were real. Then Haku pulled the stuffed animal to his chest and held it there, his eyes closed and a very soft smile crossing his face, much more sincere then any Zabuza had ever seen.
Zabuza felt a shiver hint at his neck as he realized the emotion behind that smile. Haku was thanking him silently, the kind of expression that one only used in their family, or to perhaps a close friend. Zabuza responded with a harsh snort and closed his eyes, resigning himself to sleep and not caring if Haku had burned the thing or hugged it to death. It didn't matter to him.
It didn't matter to him at all.
And yet he still noticed, the next morning, that Haku slept with a small smile on his face, the rabbit nestled tightly in his arms.
The end.