Author's Note: Yeah, yeah, it's been forever. This doesn't exactly top my priority list. Unlike my other mini-saga "A Twisted Rhapsody," I actually know where this is going. A chapter for each legendary katana user and the last one for Haku. Nine chapters total. Not, of course, that this means it will be finished quickly, but it will be finished. Eventually.

Zabuza didn't allow his annoyance to show on his face, but Haku was perceptive and probably caught his vexation anyway by the way his grip rhythmically tightened and relaxed on his zanbatou. Kisame was late. The younger man had promised he would help Zabuza demonstrate several of the more complex throwing techniques to Haku, but Zabuza and his apprentice had been waiting over half an hour at the west training grounds of Kirogakure and Kisame had yet to show up.

Haku was unusually patient for his age, but waiting around for thirty minutes without even the tension of a mission for a distraction would bore a saint, much less a seven year old, so it wasn't long before the boy (after a glance at Zabuza for permission) ambled over to the edge of the training grounds where he had earlier placed the cage that held Mister Fluffers, unhinged the latch and started playing with his pet.

After Kisame failed to meet them at the scheduled rendezvous point at the decided time, Zabuza had been willing to let a few minutes slide, but half an hour was unacceptable. Kisame was not absent-minded and would not forget a scheduled training session, therefore the teen was either keeping them waiting on purpose, or he was dead. In the mood the zanbatou wielder was in, it had better be the latter. Zabuza was angry; he hated wasting time, and normally would have started Haku training with those senbon needles he had gotten inordinately fond of recently, but the training planned had been close-up taijutsu and the only throwing weapons either of them had bothered to bring along were some spare kunai so as not to be caught off-guard if the Cloud decided to bother Kirogakure with one of their impromptu attacks.

It was exactly thirty minutes after their arrival that Zabuza stood up abruptly from his sitting position on one of the numerous boulders spotting the training grounds and started walking back towards the village. Haku hurried after him, panting slightly from the effort of putting his rabbit back into its cage in record time and catching up to his teacher. "Zabuza-san, what about-"

"The idiot has kept us waiting long enough. Go back to our apartment and practice your ice manipulation. I'm going to have a talk with Kisame."

Haku quieted. Even at seven, the boy knew that when his teacher said 'talk,' he really meant anything but. When he finally did speak, his voice was barely above a whisper. "Zabuza-san, please don't hurt him too much."

Zabuza didn't reply.

----

It took Zabuza about an hour to find Kisame's apartment. As a rule, shinobi avoided visiting each other at home, but Zabuza had ignored far more inviolate taboos in the past for less than the opportunity to punch the crap out of someone who deserved it. His anger had somewhat cooled by the time he had tracked down one of Kisame's ANBU comrades and used some of his authority as a senior member of the assassin corps to drag the location of the boy's residence (and thereby his current position, as Kisame's ANBU squad was not on duty today) out of the other shinobi, but for Kisame, that didn't really mean anything. Zabuza had never had any trouble killing people he didn't even know the name of, so beating someone he actually didn't mind so much unconscious was hardly a ping on what little moral fiber he had.

Despite whatever myths civilians tended to spread about the Hidden Villages, shinobi for the most part used the front door. This was not so much out of a sense of propriety as it was a sense of self-preservation, as any ninja who had been in the field more than a week always developed a healthy (or not so healthy) paranoia, and therefore was given to trapping all obvious entryways to their homes to provide themselves with some peace of mind. Even if one was entering the home of a close friend, one never used the window, or the skylight, or the laundry-shoot, because even if you knew all their traps, a new one was all too easy to add without warning. This was the precise reason Zabuza was standing out on Kisame's doorstep, his breath misting in the cold air, as he waited for the younger shinobi to answer his knock. He waited. And Kisame didn't answer.

Stifling the urge to simply break down the boy's door, Zabuza knocked again, this time accompanying the action with some rather terse words. "Kisame, now is not the time to be trifling with me. Open the door."

After a few seconds' pause, Kisame's voice responded, sounding oddly subdued. "Just a minute, Zabuza-san." The sound of a latch being unbolted reached Zabuza's ears, and it wasn't long before the door (finally) swung open. On the other side was Kisame, and all thoughts of retribution for the boy's tardiness immediately left Zabuza's head. Leaning heavily against the wall, bandages covering the entirety of his torso and his right arm in a sling with his pupils slightly unfocused in a way that suggested sedatives, the other katana wielder looked like he had just barely survived a war. Despite his impairment, Kisame still noticed the way Zabuza's eyes narrowed as he examined the other ANBU's injuries, but as often happened when the boy observed social cues, he completely misread the source of Zabuza's ire and bowed his head in apology. "I beg your pardon for not assisting you this morning, Zabuza-san, but I was sleeping off some of the drugs the medic-nins put me on and didn't think to send word to you."

"Who did this to you?"

Kisame's gaze jerked off the floor as he met Zabuza's eyes, looking slightly confused. "Sorry?"

"You didn't have a mission yesterday, and these wounds look recent. Who injured you?"

The younger boy rubbed the back of his head with his good hand, rather looking like he wanted to change the subject. "Just got hurt training last night. It's nothing, Zabuza-san."

"Your broken arm was not incurred in the same attack as the sword wound in your side. You can't get hurt like that training."

"I pissed off Kano-sensei."

Zabuza didn't visibly change expression, but inside he was seething. Teachers weren't supposed to hurt their students, at least not intentionally, and Kisame's injuries looked very much intentional. "What did you do this time? Show up late again?"

"I cut his arm. He didn't take it well."

Zabuza forgot what he was going to say next, because the words that had come out of Kisame's mouth hadn't made any sense. Kisame was only thirteen, and while skilled, he was not supposed to be good enough to hurt his instructor, who had ten years on him in both age and experience. Especially considering Kano was supposed to be one of the elite swordsmen of the Mist. Either Kano was getting sloppy, or Kisame had just gotten lucky (or not so lucky, as it were). Or there was always the third alternative that Kisame was close to surpassing his teacher. Personally, Zabuza thought that last was unlikely. Kisame was close to brilliant while using his Samehada, but Zabuza trained with the boy on occasion and had joined Kano on one or two missions and knew it would be at least another three or four years at least before the young ANBU could hope to match his instructor.

So that meant Kano had overcompensated for his confidence issues when it came to his own skill and almost killed his student in some weird quest to get back at the boy for making him doubt himself. For a moment, Zabuza felt the almost overwhelming urge to track the wakizashi wielder down and slit his throat, but he managed to suppress the desire after some thought. Zabuza reminded himself that while Kano was the most unsuitable person he had ever met to be a teacher, he was not only a better swordsman than Kisame but Zabuza as well. That didn't do much to temper the knowledge that Kirogakure would probably be better off in the long run if Kano was found dead in a ditch somewhere in the next few days.

It was with a rather uncharacteristic absence of mind that Zabuza told Kisame they could show Haku the throwing techniques some other day and to go back to bed before he fell on his face. Kisame complied easily enough, though he sent a worried glance over his shoulder as he watched the older shinobi turn around and start to walk away. Zabuza wasn't unreasonable. It was just that his reasoning was something that was usually beyond most people, including Kisame. The young ANBU just hoped his friend wasn't planning on doing anything stupid.

----

"I'm sorry, but we cannot assign Kisame-kun a new instructor at this time."

One of Zabuza's hands clenched, but his composure for the most part remained untouched. "You told me yourself, Mizukage-sama, that you thought Kano was too rough with Kisame. This instance of all things should push you to give Kisame another teacher, if only to insure one of the brightest rookie ANBU in the corps will survive long enough to make captain."

The Mizukage shook his head sadly. "I would at any other time, Zabuza-kun, but this war with the Cloud is pushing our resources to their limits as it is. I cannot afford to take a katana user skilled enough to teach Kisame-kun off the front lines. It would weaken our position too much. Maybe when Nami gets back from her mission in Stone, I will reconsider. But not now."

"Mizukage-sama, Nami won't be back from Stone for months-"

The Mizukage's face hardened. "I have made my decision, Zabuza. You will not question it." Zabuza stiffened, and even with the bandages covering the lower half of his face the zanbatou wielder's fury was obvious. He turned and stalked out, only pausing at the threshold when the Mizukage again spoke, this time a warning in his voice. "Zabuza."

There was a pause, and when next Zabuza moved, it seemed to take all the willpower the assassin had to turn back to face the Mist's leader and execute an almost tortured bow. "Thank you for your time, Mizukage-sama. I will excuse myself now. Haku expected me an hour ago." The door slammed behind him, making the Mizukage frown. Zabuza was skilled, but lately the Water Shadow had been wondering if the ANBU's talent made it worth it to put up with his recurring insubordination. He was growing very tired of the boy's insolence, and one really couldn't leave such a defect to fester too long before it turned into something else entirely. Something dangerous.

----

The Mizukage was a fool. More specifically, the Mizukage was an old fool who should have stepped down years ago and left the ruling of Kirogakure to someone who hadn't gone senile ten years ago. Weaken the Mist's position? Bullshit. The Mist were winning against the Cloud, and Zabuza knew personally that at least one katana wielder good each to teach Kisame was currently waiting in a shinobi camp less than two days' travel away writing a play about the glory of rice balls and dango while he waited to be assigned a mission. The way things were going, the Water Shadow was practically sending an approval letter to Kano for a hit on his student. Sometimes Zabuza wondered if the Mizukage wanted Kisame to die to get rid of the last of a clan that had caused him so much worry in the past.

If so, Zabuza wouldn't allow it to happen. He might not have been an ANBU captain yet, but he was next in line for a command position and that gave him a certain amount of power. Such as the power to get Kisame's squad sent on a long-term assignment. Say, for the next six months. Perhaps a lower A-class mission that would keep the boy from suspecting a setup but make it unlikely that Kisame have the opportunity to get himself killed. Perhaps by then Nami would have returned and the Mizukage would go through on his promise.

It wasn't enough. Zabuza knew it would never be enough unless he could completely demolish the chance of anything like this ever happening again. To anybody.

Quietly, in the dead of night when Haku was asleep and no one was around to hear, Zabuza renewed a promise he had made seven years ago when one of Kirogakure's horrible traditions had pushed him to murder every single one of his classmates on their graduation day. "I will become the Mizukage. And then when I change things, no one will be able to raise a voice to stop me."