Disclaimer: I own nothing. Please give credit where it's due.
Warnings: Hinting (!) and not beta-ed.
Author's Note: My first attempt at something Naruto-esque. Written for Dee!
Please enjoy!
Bittersweet Killer
Zabuza-san…
Those eyes burn through him the moment he turns to wash away the grime and sweat of travel, but he does nothing to dismiss it and continues to bathe, aware of the silent words longing to escape an obedient tongue.
How long has he known of such an existence between them?
The water is soothing, cool, but his flesh aches with a heat he hasn't been acquainted with in…a long time. Still, he tries to pretend he feels nothing and stares at his darkened surroundings with vague interest, secretly wanting to evaporate into nothing at his own insistence.
Haku…
Zabuza knows the boy cannot hear him, though he possesses strength and skill unrivaled by anyone they have yet to encounter. Sometimes, he wonders why he offered him the chance to survive, why he…agreed to teach him everything. Haku is strong. Haku would have made it on his own.
And now…
This?
"Hurry up." His words bite the air, commanding, and an almost inaudible splash is the only answer. From the corner of his eye, Zabuza cannot help watching. It's as if the mask has really been removed, and he stares without staring, his mouth, void of hindering bandages, set in a firm line.
Ebony hair cascades around a ghostly face when nimble fingers pull it free of the bun twisted, this time, at the nape of a slender neck. His seemingly fragile body is already naked, his skin a pearly white beneath the moon, and they continue to wash in silence, hungry eyes consuming in a quest for something more than the occasional brush of hands and stroke of flesh.
The façade is easy because they are so good at pretending.
Zabuza knows Haku's power surpasses his own, though he is several years younger, and the blood he has spilled matches the other jounin's drop for drop. Even a fool would be wise with caution around the boy, but Zabuza finds his awareness slowly slipping into naught with each passing day.
Haku is the evolution of the perfect poison: innocent, sweet, and deadly.
Many an enemy has fallen victim to his soft words and beautiful face, and Zabuza knows that he, too, has been captured by his spell.
"Zabuza-san…" He glances fully at him then, their eyes meeting in a succinct dance, and there is the tiniest hint of a smile. "Swim with me." Haku holds his hand out, palm up in invitation, and Zabuza is once again observing, tracing the delicate bone structure of such a lethal weapon molded for throwing senbon to kill. He hides the disdain and nods ever briefly, conscious of the boy's skin caressing his as he grips his fingers and tugs him oh-so-gently into deeper water.
This adult in a child's body is not meant for such dirty work. Always on the run. A murderer in the highest degree.
Haku is not meant for him.
"Haku-"
"It's relaxing, ne, Zabuza-san?" The whispered tone is full of happiness and warmth and an ounce of something else entirely that he cannot recognize. "You've seemed…tense."
"Nothing," he replies, coming to a stop in the now waist deep water, calloused fingertips squeezing into pale flesh. "Haku, I-"
For a moment, it seems as though the boy disappears, and Zabuza thinks he must have died, that his companion, once thought of as a tool, a means of revenge, has murdered him out of pity, out of…spite. Yet, he realizes that Haku isn't malevolent and could not survive without him, much less slay him; words spoken in a fit of delirium the other obviously did not remember.
When the time comes, Zabuza hopes that Haku's death will be swift…and before his own.
Arms swiftly move to wrap around him, and Zabuza concludes that the manipulative use of Haku's Bloodline Limit has clouded his mind. The embrace is feverishly cold, and they stand tangled together, chest to back.
"Zabuza-san…" Haku lays his head against him. "You have such a beautiful body. Please don't abuse it."
Zabuza stares blankly at the sky in surprise, the urge to pull the boy into a real embrace so strong he clenches his teeth and pushes him away a moment later, beyond confused with such conflicting emotions.
Wrong but right.
So very right but…wrong.
"Okay," he murmurs, digging into his thighs with blunt fingernails. "Let's go back to camp."
And Zabuza does not witness Haku's expression of pure rejection, of an agonizing emotion bleeding from those doe eyes that continue to scorch him outside in.
He wants to stay, but he…can't.
In the end, Zabuza knows he will forever live this tainted, bittersweet death at the hands of his self-created killer.
His beautiful…
Haku.
End