I do not own Naruto
January 9
It was the first year alone. No one to be happy with, no one to know that another year, so long when one is so young, had gone by. There was no one in the world who cared when a small boy shivered in the street, alone.
A cold gust of wind swoops down from the sky, howling in the heavy silence that descends upon the land with the snow.
It was the first year with renewed hope. Someone was there again, to care, and to give purpose. The boy could not keep the smile off his face.
"What are you so happy about?"
The boy grinned as he answered. "I'm nine today."
"Your birthday, is it? Don't expect anything special."
They continued walking, but the boy kept smiling.
The few remaining birds huddle in any cover they can find, determined to last out the bitter cold.
It was the first year with a hint of affection. The boy had learned to keep his smiles to himself, and had seen many hardships. Nonetheless, he could not keep the extra spring out of his step.
Nothing was said about it, but he thought he saw a smile touch his master's eyes as they took an unexpected but much appreciated detour through a small town to get a bite to eat.
The trees groan under the weight of the ice hanging from their limbs. Every so often, a sudden cracking sound echoes over the landscape, and a weaker branch hurtles to the ground.
It was the first year of giving. The boy had been worn down, over and over again, all in the name of training. He had grown stronger, and was growing stronger still, in all areas of shinobi skill but one.
They stumbled across an injured rabbit in the woods, cowering under the brush. The boy was immediately drawn to it, wanting to soothe away its pain. He cradled it in his arms, quieting its fear and gaining its trust.
"Can I keep him?" the boy asked softly, fearfully. He was not in the habit of asking for anything, and was anxious about doing so.
His master looked down upon him for a moment before turning away. "It's hurt. It will be good practice for you, since your medical skills are lacking."
The boy smiled broadly and held the rabbit closer. "Thank you!"
Snatches of time seem to flit through the air; the story of a life.
It was the first year of knowing. The boy had grown, and was no longer a child. His master had come to depend upon him. Both knew that he would willingly give his life, without being asked, if it were to save his master.
The boy saw the signs, and knew that his master cared, truly cared about him.
The master knew that he saw them, and knew it was enough to make him happy.
A stone is uncovered as the wind swirls around it, revealing a name carved neatly into it: Haku.
Do you have any idea how hard this was to write? Sorry it's a day late…I forgot yesterday because I wasn't really home. Bleh…
