"Shiro" was Haku's Malaysian name (or so a website says) and I opted it for his surname. I'm keeping Kakashi's blue eye, I'm too lazy to edit the whole prose.
Misgivings crept down the mind of Hatake Kakashi at the slightest touch of an all-too-familiar metal against a gloved hand when a needle pierces through his palm, avoiding the second by centimeters and catching the third with his fingers. His body flexed at half-rotation while his unscathed hand reaches for a kunai, whirling like the winds as the waters splashes with a kick and Haku was already running with his skeletal weapon. Against the yellow brightness of the sun, his brown locks fly cosmically against it; his garbs follow the rhythm of the pallid coolness of the air and with another splash he dodges the soaring kunai with a crouch.
Metal against the waters, friction against the wetness of their arsenal; the white-haired scarecrow deciphers the puzzles of a lifetime that are the senbon needles and the presence of Haku, for a calloused memory can only remember beautiful ones, only those he wishes to live with. What was it that slithers him to listlessness?
His kunai abrades against the senbon needle and moisture has decreased friction; their arms stood firm in the air, subduing each other's force with miniature mediums. Kakashi gathers enough strength to flout the laws of pain and focuses instead with a narrowed eye, while Haku remained unruffled and friendly like how the jounin remembered him. His right foot swooshes against the depths of shallow water in the air and defends Kakashi's knee kick, motioning a force from within him and wheels himself from the jounin's kunai. Haku's body makes a resonance countering the air as he throws his senbon needles, actually missing; his hand marks a handseal.
Hyouton Sensatsu Suishou.
His weight rows against the waters and it makes a swooshing echo. Although Kakashi knew the warfare of this creature before him, he harks back at his opponent's abilities with warring sentiments of difficulty and admiration. The large beads of water metamorphose into shards of ice, protruding themselves with enough force, striking the jounin with intimidation. Wedges of frost have already amassed themselves towards Kakashi like human projectiles, and soon the room began to resound with violent roars that the guards nearby has started to run for the room.
Two floors below them, Tsunade's earshot began to collect rowdiness; she knew too well the music of skirmishes, and she runs, her heels making a thunderous resonance.
"What the hell was that?" she shouts to the chuunin, and soon Shizune appears with a puff of smoke. She clutches her left arm, readying her needle shots as the chuunin turns the knob.
"At my back, Tsunade-sama," Shizune whispers, bowing with pointed eyesight. At the slightest turn of the door, waters started to rush and make their away out of the tortured room, and the Sannin can sense red hues against the pristine stream. They sting her coldly, and she looks at the flowing waters; chakra was coerced, wasted as they are released – and now the lad should be dying soon enough.
The door opens. Hatake Kakashi stands too concrete for his own good as he takes the needle out of his palm, and his visible eye twitches; his breaths are still, although she can tell that his eyesight is growing unsteady. He emanated with a haze and the icicles surround him, while a drop of blood taints the translucent frost, underpinning her sense of anxiety.
"Ka...Kakashi?" Shizune voices out, and the chuunin backs away from view. Tsunade looks at the right. Haku stands frail as the room is emptied with the waters while sunbeams fill it; it strikes the lad's face and he reacts with the warmth. He was smiling, or so she thinks, and his brown eyes create a soothing force; when the clouds hid the sun with shades, the so-called missing-nin falls from the ground.
ARCTIC HEIGHTS
One-Handed Seals
"Let him in," Tsunade says, browsing through the papers.
The door opens with a whisper and the daimyo invites himself to a seat; his hands were holding two brown folders and rested it among the other folders near Tsunade, making her raise an eyebrow. The mustached man snorts, signaling the escape of his own voice.
"That's all I can gather, Hokage-sama"
"Thanks,"
"What's that info for anyway?"
A decision, she muses, relates to past but nevertheless answers the demands of the present; something which also moulds the future. The birds start to chirp and she sighs, confused at her resolve. If she tells about the missing-nin, she would be forced to surrender him for politics' sake; not that every citizen of the Hidden Village of Leaf would learn to spurn the youngster but would it be a wiser choice to foster a shinobi of bloodline limit ability?
"Haku Shiro I reckon," the daimyo cuts her thoughts, "supposed to be a hunter-nin but went missing two and half years ago,"
"That makes him a missing-nin."
"Definitely." He reaches for the folder, opening it for the Hokage's convenience.
"A kekkei genkai, Hokage-sama. Records Department in Mist told me he's supposed to be dead."
She stares at the daimyo.
"An encounter with one of our shinobis they say, and they actually thanked me for that. Weird ne?" he continues.
"They wanted him dead anyway,"
"The other folder's his mission reports, not that it's important."
"Who... killed him?" she says falteringly.
"We can ask our own department for that. Whatcha gonna do to him?"
She shifts her weight on the chair and the strain makes a metallic clanging, resting her head with an arm. She gazes at the profile, reminiscing the village coated bloodied with an overflowing distrust and dread. "Whatcha gonna do if you're me?" she whispers, talking to herself.
"Summon the council of course."
"Yeah yeah, like hell they care,"
"Not that it would affect us, but what if Mist finds out about him?"
"Aren't they supposed to ask you that?"
"Never really answered their question, just asked them for supplementary records. We have to find out who killed him. Good luck, if you got any more favors just send someone over," he finally says, indicating his reluctance to involve himself in the predicament. He closes the door and a puff of smoke appears from the windows. The afternoon's warmth radiated with an orange color and the day was beginning to die. Of course, the Hidden Village of Leaf dealt with the coming of nighttime with an all-too-familiar silence, save for the nocturnal ones. Hatake Kakashi appears in the corner of Tsunade's right eye, and she can see his bandaged hand.
"No wonder he attacked you. You killed him didn't you?" she says, still browsing the folder.
A long fall of silence and her stamp against the paper deafens both of them.
"What're ya' gonna do Hokage-sama?" he whispers, and she judges that it was bordering from disinterest and a seeming obligation once a mission is assigned to him. His voice furthers her judgment to boot.
"What're you gonna do if you're me?"
Although she never really demanded a resolution from him, the Hokage senses bewilderment at the jounin's body language; she stands up, motioning the white-haired scarecrow to follow him. The sun was already receding to the void of dark clouds and the village was etched within the horizon of the day and the night's darkness. Several minutes come to pass, and the jounin joins Tsunade's strides as both of them walk through the hallways, leading themselves to the locked surgery room. In the distance, Kakashi can see the clear waters dampening the pavements of Konoha's central territory, and against the fading sunlight it gleams with pale colors. He construes the waters' genesis through the absence of Haku's chakra – the devastating beauty of icicles turned into a crying earth.
She opens the door.
"I've put restraining scrolls at the four corners of this room so he won't escape," she says next, picking the document up.
"D'ya plan to keep him?" he says as he feigns to lack interest.
"Council's gonna decline," she says, checking the equipment. Haku's body lays in a seemingly peaceful death; there were no sounds except the machine's constant indications of nourishment. "But I plan to keep him."
"Won't Mist–"
"You'll testify to his death and we're claiming him," she says, staring onto him and her voice embodied authority. "Imagine what he can do to our village," says her smile.
Yes, Kakashi thought; the importance of expediency. The Hidden Village of Leaf spread itself around with an aura of optimism by which everything was almost dealt with within the fleeting sense of something resembling attraction, thriving to familiarities of everydayness. But behind this picturesque aura is a power politics; a bloody affair to sustain the needs of familiarities of everydayness, a hidden violence but only a lurking view. "Of course," Kakashi comments.
"He's the only one I know who do one-handed seals," he continued.
This time the Sannin makes a quizzical face. "One-handed... seals?"
"Even the Sannin had to make two-handed ones ne?"
"Yes yes," she says, "I never knew their bloodline can do that,"
He walks towards the youngster. "The council should agree to this Hokage-sama, if advantages outweigh the drawbacks."
She stares at the sleeping Haku, and a sense of empathy surges from within her that the meanings of words would be curtailed expressions. The moon has started to wash the night away with gloom, and the vertical of clouds become a silhouette against the starless sky. Tsunade interprets an empathy to a questioning look, growing harrowing at the realization that both of them never knew why this pale youngster before them breathes in the first place. Who knew of a joy when one doesn't remember at all?
Hours passed and the council was summoned before her. Kakashi stands firm at the corner, his darkened figure visible only with slow reflexes of his body; Tsunade appears to be too serious for her own good, sitting in front of Sandaime's former teammates. At the other end of the room, Shizune and team jounins wait for their turn to speak; a chuunin holds a pen, keeping details for history's and precedence's sake.
"As y'all know," Tsunade breaks the ice, "as someone practicing an oath to save life, I remained to heal him,"
"I wonder, Tsunade, if Mist finds out about him,"
"Their records tell he's dead for years Homura,"
"And that stops them from knowing he's alive?" says the old woman, and Tsunade raises an eyebrow. "You think only the surface, Tsunade. What if they declare war on us?"
"I don't think they would anyway," the Hokage rejoins, "You're always thinking about freaking war,"
Kurenai raises her hand. "Hokage-sama's probably right, everything cannot be solved by a war."
"What're the chances of that Kurenai?" Homura speaks with an authoritative tone. "Mist is known to wage war at the slightest threat,"
"What's the threat?" Kurenai asks.
"You don't want him... because he's no Leaf," the Sannin concludes, astounded by her own claim.
Silence conquers them; they knew that recognition of existence was never tantamount to any intimidation, but only an odd magnetism that leads to a questioning of intentions. Tsunade is an advocate of favorable reception unless antagonism bellows to her and her village, but it's the least of her worries. She reminds herself of the townsfolk, their optimism, and their fleeting sense of beauty; it dawns upon her thus that the council disagrees with her not because of the peril that the Hidden Village of Mist could provide. It's not because they loathe Haku; they're unnerved by him.
"What're the odds?" Homura whispers.
"Unlike the rest of us in this room, he can do one-handed seals," she takes pride to her words. "He's extremely useful with his kekkei genkai,"
This time Kakashi can be seen as he speaks. "He has Anbu skills, and he's a kind soul."
"How do y'know?" asks the old lady.
"I was the one who killed him." The whispered words become buzzes at Kakashi's audition, seemingly impairing any chance to continue speaking. Tsunade motions for silence.
"Why is he here at all?" was the reply everybody thought to ask.
"I'm guessing it's a tensei technique which breathed life to him," answers Tsunade. "Or Kakashi didn't kill him enough."
"He's not gonna be a kind soul when he wakes up then," comments Asuma. "He might seek revenge or something,"
"I've already resolved myself to that. Seems absurd but I've assigned Kakashi in advance to rechristen the chap once he wakes up,"
And so they rest their case. It was February of the tenth morning when Haku opens his eyes; he adjusts at the unfamiliarity of everything, and his body fails to adapt at the crisp morning winds and warm sunlight. Beside him was the infamous copy-nin, trying to be casual; trying in his mind's eye to look for any symbolism of opposition, but the new Konoha citizen found himself disarmed at the odd magnetism which ignorance provides him. He raises his bandaged arm, only to fall from the air; Kakashi thought it was a signal of distress.
tbc.
