Chapter One
It had begun as a true attempt, but now, it was just a game. That first time, and the second, and the third, then slowly Zabuza's attempts on his life began to lose… motivation was the only thing that Zabuza could describe it with.
That first time, Zabuza would never forget, of course. He had left his small house after sunset and walked down to the ocean that sometimes at high tide lapped on his doorstep. There was a pier down there, a huge pier that extended far above the water. Children in the town were told never to jump off, it was too high. Older kids would dare each other, but so far, only kids Zabuza's age had ever jumped, and even then from many rungs down on the ladder that connected the pier and the sea. Except Zabuza. Zabuza had no interest in jumping off. It had too many bad memories for him. Last year, when he was still sixteen, some people from school who he'd thought were his friends pushed him off the ladder when he was some ten rungs down.
He'd hit the water on his back, the salt water snapping at his back, making him cry out in pain. His 'friends' had fled. A few days later Zabuza found one by the water. In a fit of rage, Zabuza that thrown the kid into the ocean and nearly drowned him. Suddenly Zabuza had realized what he was doing, and let go. Before fleeing, he remembered to hiss at the boy, Now we're even, in the hopes there would be no backlash. He had been horrified, and for weeks had nightmares of the kids eyes rolling back in his head and his frenzied movements slowing. Though nothing ever happened, the news had spread, and everyone avoided Zabuza. It wasn't like he cared. Being alone, introverted, and socially awkward made him an outcast even before that. There was another thing… but that was the past.
A year later he still hated that ladder, though if he was strong enough to leave this world by his own making, he could walk down that ladder.
After leaving arriving at a pier, he pulled a weighted rope out from next to the cement at the base of the pier, then walked out to the edge. Zabuza stood at the edge and looked at the moon, which was hardly a sliver, waning. He carefully climbed down the ladder, his knuckles white from gripping the old wood too hard. When he got to the bottom, he was thankful it was low tide. The water was around fifteen feet deep. Diving to the sandy bottom, Zabuza looped the rope around one wooden column, his eyes closed tight.
Once it was firmly tied, Zabuza put a slip knot in one end. A crab wandered over his foot. Running out of breath, he pushed off and got to the surface. Opening his eyes, he looked and the moon, wishing its eye would be fully open on his last night. Oh well. Zabuza swam to the bottom and looped the slip knot around his wrist. He opened his eyes and couldn't see anything. He had thought, now I will hold my breath until I run out of air. Then I'll black out, breathe in the water, and that will be that. No one will ever look for my body at the bottom of the pier.
Zabuza managed to hold his breath for two minutes before he needed air. And that was when he realized that, though stars hovered in the corner of his vision, he wouldn't lose himself in time. Zabuza gasped, and water filled his lungs in an attempt to breath. Terror filled the young man, and, frantically, he slipped his hand out of the knot and fled to surface. He arrived in a heartbeat, sputtering. Rather than climbing the ladder, Zabuza let himself drift to shore with the tide, now coming in. When he arrived at the shore he limped to and then inside his small house. Stripping off his wet clothes, Zabuza fell into his bed. Only then did he realized that when he was so close to the other side, he had failed. The sobs hit him, and Rin fell asleep crying.
Zabuza didn't know when he had decided to die. Or when he had gotten brave enough. Actually, Zabuza wasn't sure why he wanted to die. The only idea that came to him was that he was well and truly crazy. Maybe being alone had done it. Maybe nightmares of a certain fishing boat accident had done it, sleepless nights being haunted by dead parents' faces. There were sometimes kids Zabuza knew who claimed to be suicidal and depressed, and would cut themselves, but Zabuza knew that those kids were in for the romance, the attention of being "special." Zabuza sometimes would think he was one of them, but was never sure what he was. There was something romantic about the sea and death and solitude.
Zabuza denied being suicidal or depressed. He didn't hate life, though he did yearn for peace, and he didn't think he was what people called depressed. Hovering between the shallows and the depth, mad, that's what Zabuza thought he was. The incident with the kid could have been what pushed Zabuza off the deep end, as it was just a month after that Zabuza tried to die.
The evening after the first attempt, Zabuza tried again, failing. A few days after, Zabuza tried again. Failing. The fourth time, Zabuza had gone down to the bottom to where the slip knot waited, but the stillness of the water forewarned of a storm, and Zabuza went back home, for fear the storm would, if Zabuza did die, would tear his body from the rigging and he would be found. Zabuza wanted to stay under the pier forever. The fifth time, Zabuza lost his motivation. He ran out of breath, and swam back up. Now it was a ritual, a few times a week swimming down, holding his breath a little longer each time, and then the half of Zabuza that was scared dragging him up to the surface.
This night, Zabuza decided not to swim down. Tomorrow he needed to go buy food, and he didn't want the salt that crusted all over this dark greyish skin and short brown hair to single him out. The young man stood and the end of the pier and angled his face up to the moon, which was full. He didn't notice a pair of eyes watching him from the base of the pier, right where Zabuza first stowed the rope. The eyes had been there every time for five attempts, and Zabuza never noticed.
You know what, tonight's as good a night as any Zabuza decided, and, climbing down the pier, he dove down to the loyal rope that always waited for his wrist. He slipped the knot on and tightened it, thinking, Tonight is the night. I won't need to go get food tomorrow at all. Zabuza opened his eyes and looked at the moonbeams dancing through the water. His breath hurt his lungs.
"Gluurgh! Ufff!" Zabuza gasped as he strained against the slipknot, tightening it. He could never manage to put the rope around his neck, his body always rebelled. Finally, Zabuza relaxed, and slipped out of the slip knot, then rocketed towards the ladder. He climbed up the ladder and walked down the pier. His eyes shed tears against his will, stinging from the salt. The eyes ducked under the pier, and Zabuza missed them once again.
