Just a shorty written as a gift to a precious friend of mine. English isn't my native language, so don't judge me too severely)
P.S. Review it or not, I luv you guys. So goes for Zabuza and Haku.=^_^=
Zabuza loves his weapon.
Shinobi can polish and clean Kubikiribocho for hours, stroking the handle. There is much more passion than necessity in this, Haku knows that the sword drinks in human blood. Scores of times the boy watched bloody stains disappering from its tarnished surface, sometimes it happens even faster than a slashed body hits the ground.
Drifting into a light slumber Momochi-san always lays Kubukiri next to him. It's not that many people try to snatch it - a few of them could even lift and wield it, but Zabuza just likes it that way. Momochi-san also likes to speak with Kubikiribocho - attentive Haku saw his master's lips moving under the bandages. Of course, everything is a big secret.
The boy laughs up his sleeve putting the medical needles back to his bag and places it in the head of his bed.
He always feels sad in snowy winter days, this is a sadness of an inevitable human loneliness. After supper Haku sits by their tent and watches the white snowflakes falling from the night sky on the dark forest. The wind tears a steam he exhales to pieces and carries away, instantly burning his fingers and cheeks. Even the fire is almost useless, the weather is usually a damp mess in the Land of Water. A few minutes pass and Zabuza calls him from inside of the tent.
The boy obediently dives into the welcoming darkness.
They remain silent in such moments: Zabuza just puts a heavy palm on the back of Haku's head, and the boy leans on his master's shoulder, eyes closed, letting the Demon of Mist release his hair gathered in a tight bun - lock by lock.
Zabuza is always careful.
The rite lulls Haku. Through upcoming drowziness he feels being hugged, wrapped up into a blanket. They lay together in Zabuza's bed, the boy listening to snow rustling, to faint cracking of dying fire, to Momochi-san's steady breathing. Master's body radiates waves of warmth, Haku sighs contentedly. Big hand rests on the boy's chest, and the sadness leaves him completely.
Zabuza loves his weapon.