Struggle to Live
By TciddaEmina
Warnings: SLASH Haku/Zabuza. Graphic-ish character death.
Disclaimer: Don't own Haku or Zabuza. Naruto does not belong to me, which is why I write fanfiction.
He shivered against the cold, what remained of his now ragged clothes doing little to protect him from the chill. Snow was falling lazily, floating leasurly from the sky and saturating the air with its frozen breath. Already the ground was covered in a thick layer of it, the world blanketed in a blanket of icy white that continued to grow with each fallen snowflake.
Another shudder racked his body, one of the many futile attempts his body made in attempt to raise its own temperature and avoid death. He huddled deeper into himself, hugging his knees even tighter and pulling his elbows in. The cold wouldn't leave, it was stubborn and patient, unwilling to abandon such easy prey. It was useless, he couldn't get warm.
His could see his breath. A regular cloud of steamy white air, made visible by the condensation of his breath in the cold. Against his back he could feel the hard wooden parapet of the bridge though the thin material of what had been a loose short-sleeved shirt but was now a shredded mess of fabric that barely clund to his form. That was cold too. Everything was cold in winter.
Resigned brown eyes watched the snow pile up on the ground of the bridge, listening to the barely there trickle of water as he did. The water was forzen too, forced to a halt by the coming of the coldest months, moving only minimally beneath the iced surface of the river.
Pale hands gripped tightly where they could, clumsy and shaking with the cold. The rest of him felt a similar way, chilled so cold he was losing feeling, a sweet numbness spreading through his body. It was probable that the cold would kill him. It would creep into him and eat at his insides before leaving him a frost-bitten husk of himself. He had no shelter, no food, and no warmth. No way to escape its silent grip.
He could accept that. He had accepted that. Denial was not something that lasted long in his mentality. It was just as he had accepted his situation. He was uncared for, unwanted, and unneeded. Useless. Purposeless.
That too was a relatively new state of being for him. Not long ago he had had his parents, they had wanted him, cared for him, given him purpose. They were gone now, and his purpose rendered void.
His teeth had long stopped chattering from the cold. A small blessing one might think after the endless hours they had vocalized his body's otherwise silent rebellion against the chill. He couldn't feel his lips but knew enough about winter and the not uncommon cases of pneumonia to know that they would be blue by now, leeched of all warmth and colored in a prediction of the icy death that awaited him.
The soft crunch of snow beneath booted feet alerted him to somebody's approach. Not that he hadn't noticed whoever it was already, it was impossible not to notice. The person radiated energy in aggressive waves like heat from a furnace, angry waves of power shifting sharply around his body, straying to only inches from his skin but capable of being felt from even meters away.
He had felt energy like this before, although from the few shinobi he had seen about and sometimes, rarely, in the faintest traces around passing civilians, people who weren't ninja. They called it Ch-something and used it when doing ninjutsu. Sometimes he could feel it, pouring off their bodies like a mockery of an aura, other times he couldn't. The first time he had seen a shinobi who's energy he couldn't feel he had been puzzled by it but hadn't payed it much mind, at the time he had been occupied by more pressing matters, such as digging through a trash bin in the hope of finding some food. He still didn't know why he could feel some ninja's power but not that of others, sometimes he made hypotheses about it, that maybe it had to do with their level of skill, but he had never figured it out.
He looked up as the man's footsteps grew closer, the sound of crushing snow and easy indication of movement, keeping his chin tucked in to conserve warmth as he did. Greasy and tangled black hair fell into his eyes as he moved and he didn't brush it out of the way, it wasn't worth the effort and it wasn't like anybody cared anyway.
The first thing that struck him about the man was his eyes, the sense of abject hopelessness only highlighted by grim determination that emanated from his brown gaze. The next thing he noticed was how tall he was, his height only emphasized by his noticeably muscular from. He was wearing the grey flak jacket worn by many Kirigakure shinobi, along with loose dark combat trousers that ended at his shins and were replaced by tight white bandages that in turn gave way to standard shinobi closed boots.
Clean white bandages hid his lower face like a mask, revealing only the bridge of his nose, his eyes and a part of his lower forehead. His Kirinin forehead protector was worn at at angle, slanting across his forehead with the metal plate off to one side, inscribed with the emblem of the village hidden in the mist.
He watched as the man walked closer, not even sparing his own shuddering form a glance until he stood right before him.
"Ha. A kid like you, with no one to look after you, you'll die a beggar's death." His voice was rough, gravelly in a manner that seemed almost natural if only for it quite, if mocking, tone.
He raised his head further, meeting the man's impassive eyes and ignoring the minute shiver that ran through his body as he did. There was something about the man, something that was different from the few other people that had bothered to talk to him. He didn't know what it was but he knew he like it, liked the man and knew that they were the same, though it was only seen though their eyes.
He smiled, his eyes closed and his head tilted to the side in an imitation of a childish smile. "Mister… you have the same eyes as me…" He said, opening his eyes to watch the man again.
The man didn't react overmuch, his eyes didn't widen and nor did his eyebrows rise. He just watch him, staring at him intently for a moment before smirking lightly.
"Well little-one, you can stay here and die, or come with me and be of some use. Serve me and submit to my will … in all things?" He asked, the rough tones of his voice seeming almost soft and smooth with the quite question that passed his hidden lips, the gentle offer of use.
He knew without a doubt that he would accept. This man was offering him an opportunity, one to become needed and wanted. To gain a use. An escape from the meaningless existence he had suffered.
He gave one gentle nod of his head in reply and hoisted himself to his feet, forcing himself not to flinch at the greedy fingers of cold that tightened around his body as he did. He would not disappoint the man, not when his purpose was to serve him and obey his will.
"You belong to me now. Your abilities, your past, everything." The man spoke, almost as if a final warning of the consequences of his decision, though more likely a finalizing of their agreement. It did not deter him, he had already understood what his new purpose would entail and we was not willing to abandon it.
With numb feet he took the steps separating him from the man, feeling the icy wet of the snow beneath his bare feet as he did. When he stood only two feet away from him the man reached out his arm, placing his warm hand on top of his head and ruffled his messy black raven hair.
A moment later he was pulled to the side and found himself standing against pressed against the warmth of the man's side,the hand that had ruffled his hair now lying across his shoulder and holding him close. Even through the thick layers of protective shinobi gear clothing he could feel the man's power sizzeling against his skin, bathing him in a heat beyond the meager warmth he was scavenging from their shared touch and closeness.
"What's you're name?" He asked, looking up at the man and shifting even closer in attempt to bask in as much of the man's heat as possible.
"Zabuza Momochi" Zabuza didn't look at him, staring ahead with steady earth eyes. With one small squeeze of his shoulder in warning Zabuza began to walk forward, hugging him closely to his side as he did.
"Your name, kid?"
He hesitated for a second. His name... He wasn't sure what he was called anymore. It seemed wrong to go by the name his parents had given him after they had died because of him, because of what he could do. But he wanted to remember them, even if it was his fault they had died.
"Haku ...of the Yuki clan" Haku answered, hesitating slightly as he revealed his clan name, the title that, when revealed, had caused the death of his purpose and all he had once held dear. Haku send Zabuza a flicker of a look out to the corner of his eye, nervous for the man's reaction to the revelation.
Zabuza didn't say anything. He just kept walking straight, holding Haku to his side as he did. The duet of frozen footsteps echoed around them, the only evidence of their passage a trail of phantom footprints behind them that were soon swallowed back into the snow.
Naruto had sworn he would kill him, and for a moment Haku had been willing to let the boy avenge the 'death' of his friend. Zabuza-san would survive without him, he'd never truly needed Haku in order to escape his fights alive and Haku's loss would be no great burden to him.
It had been as Naruto was running towards him, kunai raised and ready to strike, Haku's only weapons lying discarded and his body held lax, ready for death, that things went wrong. A flare of Kakashi Hatake's chakra had been what had alerted him to the jutsu, Chidori. He'd moved as fast as he could, driving his body as fast as it could go to reach Zabuza-san.
He was too late.
He was still running when he saw Zabuza-san fall, blood splattering on the ground from the wound Kakashi had run through his chest. Haku had felt nothing, a terrible numbness possessing him.
Zabuza-san?
His arm was out-stretched now, and he had stopped running. He couldn't remember stopping. A broken walk filled his legs as they moved him forward, bringing him closer to Zabuza-san.
Why aren't you fighting? Why are you lying down, Zabuza-san? There's blood... why? Zabuza-san?
Haku stood above him, seeing his bandaged face, glassy eyes and the gaping hole in his chest that kept pouring out more and more and more blood. His eyes felt false, like a badly produced genjutsu had settled over them. His limbs felt heavy, like they had been ladened with lead and were dragging him down. His cheeks felt wet, like he was standing in summer rain, warm and dripping water, but only on his cheeks. His heart... his heart felt dead, like it had after his father killed his mother and he killed his father but one thousand times worse.
Why do I feel like this?
"Zabuza-san?"
Zabuza-san, why I am hurting? Why aren't you breathing? Why are Kakashi's hands covered in blood? Zabuza-san, why am I crying? Zabuza-san?
He was still empty, still cold and dead, shattered into pieces and broken to dust, but he understood it now. Zabuza-san was dead. Kakashi had killed him and Haku had been too late to save him.
Zabuza-san was gone, and he had taken Haku with him.
He could feel choking laughter forcing its way up his throat, sounding agonized even to his own ears.
Zabuza-san, why am I laughing?
His knees hit the concrete of the bridge and suddenly he was screaming, tears stinging his eyes and blurring his vision as he reached blindly for Zabuza-san. His fingers touched the cooling skin of Zabuza-san's hand, feeling as it continued to lose heat beneath his touch and turned clammy.
No, Zabuza-san. You're not dead, you aren't. You're just sleeping, you'll wake up soon and tell me I'm being stupid and sentimental. You can't be dead because I haven't told you yet. You wouldn't die before I told you.
His throat was beginning to go hoarse, his screams still ringing through the air but unheard by his own ears. A warm hand came down on his shoulder. A wet hand. A red hand. He didn't move, didn't stop his unnoticed screams and didn't wipe away the burning tears. Kakashi didn't say anything, there was nothing that he could say.
Haku didn't believe in revenge, he never had. Kakashi was a good man, he killed to protect, like Haku, and he wouldn't fault the man for it. He wouldn't kill Kakashi, nor Sasuke, Sakura or Naruto for their parts in Zabuza-san's death.
That didn't mean he would accept it, either.
Letting go of Zabuza-san's hand Haku began to gather chakra into his hands, quickly running through the hand seals the only medical ninjustu he knew. Kakashi didn't say anything about it, he knew what was happening and watched, unwilling to look away from the consequences of his actions. He had seen if before, and though he always wished he would not have to see it again he knew it was inevitable.
Haku would continue to try and heal Zabuza-san until he either brought him back or died of complete chakra exhaustion while trying.
His hands glowed green with the jutsu and he pressed them against the bloody hole puncturing Zabuza-san's chest, watching with empty tear-filled eyes as the wound refused to heal, the dead tissue unable to be resuscitated. Haku did not give up, he could not give up. Forcing more of his chakra into the jutsu he pressed harder, distantly hearing the sound of his own begging voice, pleading brokenly for Zabuza-san to wake up.
He tried to talk but found his mouth busy saying other words. He stopped trying to talk and gathered more of his chakra instead, letting it bleed through his body, concentrating through his hand and out into Zabuza-san's body.
Haku was panting now, his breath coming short and his body becoming heavier and heavier, his head lighter and lighter. Chakra had stopped flowing into his hands, the green glow of the jutsu fading and leaving him even more empty.
He turned one of his hands over, blankly seeing the blood soaking his skin, dripping slowly down his arm and off the back of his hand. It was Zabuza-san's blood on his hands, Zabuza-san's corpse lying before him and Zabuza-san's presence that would not leave his mind.
"Zabuza-san I love you"
He saw his hands. He saw the blood. He felt the small life-giving amount of chakra that still resided in his body, keeping him alive. He knew he would give it up and that his only regret would be not being able to bring Zabuza-san back.
His hand fisted and his nails bit into his palm. Haku went through the hand seals again and brought forth his last jutsu. His touch was light this time, barely brushing against the open wound as he poured everything he was into the jutsu with a determination that eclipsed all other obstacles.
His vision was the first thing to go, his eyes being the first thing to loose the life-energy that they depended on for use and being. The next thing he lost was his legs, the dead feeling creeping up from his toes as he sacrificed all he had in one last, futile, attempt to bring Zabuza-san back.
His hearing, scent, taste and touch were all lost, followed by the death that was growing cold through his body . He knew he was dying, probably already dead, but he didn't stop, he persevered, pouring every last drop of his power into the body of the man he had loved for years and never told.
Zabuza-san, let me die for you since I could not save you.
He was empty now, his body bled dry of all its energy and already beginning to collapse. He could feel his organ's failing, the erratic beat of his own heart as it took what might be its shuddering last steps in life and finally the last of his precious life passing through his fingers and into Zabuza-san.
He knew he was ending and that there was nothing he could do to stop it so he let his mind slip inside of himself, retreating to the core of his being and the place where his now empty chakra coils centered. This was not something possible to do when chakra was present, the energy barring the mind from experiencing this part of their body in order to protect it from its own corrosive energy and the madness that would follow such exposure.
He touched the coils of his power and his eyes flew open in surprise. He had drained his core of all power, willingly giving it to Zabuza-san's body. There should be no more energy left within his body, so why could he feel it here?
It was darker energy, primeval and instinctive, a beast within his body that snarled and howled. Fight, kill, mate. It hissed at him, expanding from the tiny corner from which they had come into contact and blossoming through his body, filling him with energy once again. Suddenly he could hear again, listen to the smooth flow of water beneath the unfinished bridge. His sight, smell, taste and touch, all of his senses were back. His body was alive again and he had energy, had something like chakra dancing within his body and coaxing his chakra coils to begin producing and storing life energy at an impossible way.
The new power began to flow through his hands, following the path left by what had previously been the last of his chakra. His eyes were open and he sucked in a breath as he felt Zabuza-san's body responding to the energy, becoming filled with what he soon recognized to be Zabuza-san's own basic energy, something that was apparently within all shinobi, or even within everyone with Chakra.
Beneath his hands blood that had begun to slow starting pumping rapidly out of Zabuza-san's chest, flowing out of the wound as it healed impossibly beneath his fingers, twitching and spasming with excess energy and leaving behind only a scar. Haku could hear Kakashi and his students behind him, the jōnin muttering his surprise and disbelief.
"Impossible..."
Haku didn't care, Zabuza-san might have healed but that didn't mean he was alive. He thought his eyes had hurt with tears before, but when he saw Zabuza-san chest move and his lungs suck in a coughing breath he swore he would die from the force of his relief and joy.
His eyes surveyed Zabuza-san's body, searching for any other wounds that may put his life at risk. When he saw none that were serious enough as to be life-threatening he let the strange energy fizzle out of his hands, returning to the place hidden deep within and seperate to his own chakra coils.
A shaking had made its way to Zabuza-san's face, his eyes following slowly only to find Zabuza-san's eyes open and watching him, wonderful and alive and filled with some unknown emotion, softening his eyes as he looked at Haku.
"Haku"
Haku didn't reply but for a smile as he reached up with one hand and slipped a slim finder beneath the bandages that covered Zabuza-san's face, exposing his narrow jawline and firm mouth filled with jagged teeth.
"Zabuza-san I love you" Haku said as he lent down and placed a chaste kiss against Zabuza-san's lips. Zabuza-san gave him a tender look in return a small quirk of his lips and Haku knew what he was saying.
Haku I love you too.
AN: New fic! Ok first, is it just me or is something going on with the font? Half way through it seems to change, or at least it does from the author-y thing I'm on while posting, it might be normal to you guys. Second, thank you to all the people who left reviews on my other stories, specifically Unnoticed, and the 64 (64! So many!) people who faved the fic. I can only hope you guys like this one as well as the last. Thirdly I apologize for how long it takes me to post any story, its just the way I write. Sometimes I'll fly through a story and have it finished quickly and other times it takes me 3 or 4 dead plot bunnies to get a story up and running past the first few pages, it really just depends on what I'm writing.
Bye bye and hope you have a good day (or afternoon, morning, evening or night depending on the time zone).