Epiphanies
Miria gingerly stepped inside, pulling a Basta who didn't think that was such a good idea. "Capricorn wants to see him now!" He hissed beneath his breath. Miria rolled her eyes pulling him in,
"If we make Capricorn wait he'll deal with us when we get to him, if we make him wait he'll deal with us now." Her fingers were pressed on the cut in his arm hard to stop the bleeding, causing him to wince and wriggle in her grip. Irony … Had it been a better time she would've smirked. Basta was huffing and puffing angrily but there was nothing much he could do.
Zabuza had simply waved at a withering kitchen table on top of which were a towel, a funny looking jar of ointment and some bandages. "I will be a moment." He murmured in a low voice before being engulfed by the shadows deep within the house.
Miria blinked twice, then decided she'll dwell on confusion later. There was no time to be standing there like a deer in headlights when there was work to do. Her customary frown returned to her brow and she worked quickly, flinging Basta on to a chair that cracked beneath him. Zabuza did not do much to the house in the last few hours he was in it, and that was not surprising. His choice of it however … was. It could be only her crazy theory that he had distinct motives in choosing it or maybe he didn't, but again, all thinking had to come to a halt now.
Anger was well plastered on Basta's face, but like a little child unaccustomed to care his eyes curiously followed her to her very micro-movements. Her long slender fingers picking up the white towel, soaking it in water. The proximity they came to when she leaned over him, pushing his arm up and back to eye the wound, and slowly wash away the blood lifted the hairs on the back of his neck. The expression on her face; that of anger, annoyance and slight relief. As if she was tired of the surprises flung at her, or tired of the worry she's been made to endure. Was she … worried? Was she, specifically speaking, worried about him? Could that be possible? He thought he was insane when he first thought of it, but … When she had flung him with a pebble she didn't care about how blue his cheek was. Now … now when she had seen the blood she pushed him over, looked for his wound and was now tending to it. Tending to it without question …
Miria pressed so hard on the cut he jumped, "Ow!" with a growl. She glanced at him with a pointed glare of her own and resumed her work mumbling an inaudible 'sorry'. She noticed him eyeing her dazed at her movements and she feared his head would've taken him beyond his wildest dreams. She needed him to be convinced as was she that she was only doing what a normal person would've done …
No. Heh. No. Her head mocked, no normal person would ever do what she was doing.
A normal person's reaction would be Dustfinger's, not hers. It was against her better judgement, but she just could not leave him like that …
Wasn't his push what threw her away from the sword's way … ?
That only meant she was repaying his debt. Nothing more.
Still though, she frowned at the long cut tracing it with her fingers … this needed stitches. What did the demon expect her to do with a stupid jar of ointment? She was frowning at the little thing as though it's committed a felony by simply existing before her eyes.
"It's not for staring at it's for using."
What a Basta thing to say … she wondered. Only … it was not Basta's mouth that said it. She turned around, the hem of her dress swishing behind her. The depth of his voice still sent a tingle down her spine, his glare from so high above made her feel so small. But as she had done with Basta she will do with Zabuza, and simply push her fearless expression forward. It was not going to be as easy, and she could not guarantee that he would even swallow the bait, but what did she have to lose?
Steady … she calmed herself. Steady and natural. Her brow crumpled into her customary frown and her eyes slightly glared at him. Not too much, just a little bit. She threw a hand in the direction of the small brown jar,
"What the hell is ointment going to do to a cut like that?"
It wasn't a growl, it wasn't an annoyed screech, it wasn't loud … Her voice took on the 'matter of fact' low tone with a hint of annoyance and a touch of sarcasm. It was his fault the cut was there, and there was no frickin' need to throw someone with a sword however way they choose to wake you up. That was what her expression said. Calm cool and collected; in contrast to her heart that thumped wildly in her chest. It was thrashing against her ribcage that she could almost feel her dress pulsating with it. She was entitled to her human fears and emotions, but she could not most definitely let them pass through. Not now.
A very fine, almost invisible dark brown eyebrow rose. The rising of it was so slow, so grand, both Miria and Basta held their breaths. Zabuza walked over to them, with, if one could see beyond the glare, a bored unimpressed expression. He pulled a seat in front of them, lowering himself down so slowly the creaks beneath him were slow, ominous and almost unbearable. His dark eyes looked at Basta once and murmured softly,
"Played a little too much with fire did we?"
Miria could've sworn she saw the hairs on the back of Basta's neck stand. His burnt arms were private territory. It only then occurred to him that Miria was staring right at them … And it only just dawned upon her, beneath the blood and away from the cut how his arm was a hideously crumpled purplish reddish brown color instead of the flawless pale color of the rest of his body. She knew Basta's story. She knew he burnt his arms doing the deed for Capricorn once … This was … the first time she had seen it though.
Basta instinctively put his other arm, still hidden under his white shirt, over the injured arm where the cloth was torn off. What did he hope to hide? It was all out in the open wasn't it? She rolled her eyes at him with a frown, shooing his good arm away, "Cut it out." He didn't comply till she literally had to throw his arm off. He growled and hissed at the slender hand that slapped his arm away, but he had no hopes of anything but surrender. He didn't want her to see them. He didn't want anyone to see them. What an uncomfortable day it's been so far?
Miria's grey eyes left him to rest on Zabuza; his arm extended to the bottle of ointment and unwound the top while his mouth moved beneath the bandages.
"Had you used it anyway and finished by now I could've slipped a little comment when we could've been closer to Capricorn's house that this kind of ointment seals a cut up and if he doesn't thrash his arm around he'll be fine within a couple of days … "
The words of his explanation were dragged, slow and said in a low deep tone that made Miria feel like she was the stupidest girl on the planet. Perhaps that was what he wanted to achieve … His open palm was raised to her, the jar of green ointment now open and simply concluded. "That would've saved us a whole lot of time."
Her palm slapped his when she reached out to grab the ointment rather rudely. What the hell?! He was far worse than Basta when it came to his morbid sarcasm and his ridiculously inhumanly low voice! It annoyed the hell out of her, especially when her ears caught the sound of wishing air out of one's nose when they smirked … Had he been Basta she would've broken his nose with the ointment jar. She would also have much to say to him, but she opted not to enter a word duel with him. He would most definitely wipe the floor with her.
Basta however never learned.
"It would've saved us a whole lot of time if you didn't decide to answer your door by throwing a sword through it!"
"Who knocks on a door like that?" Zabuza retorted, standing his full height ready to walk away from them. "You didn't tell me to expect you at this hour; nor do I like to be woken up like some dog. Did I fall into your village out of my own accord? No. Did you bring me here? Yes. So it's not my fault."
Basta looked as if he was thrown at with bag of stones. His mouth was open stupidly and the frown on his brow was easing from anger to confusion. The poor thing … thought Miria. Someone ought to teach him not to waltz into battles he had no hopes of winning. Still that stupid man possessed unworldly determination. Was it because he was always beaten down like a little dog by Capricorn he became numb to it? Or was it the animalistic instinct to try and bite back till death?
"You could've ripped us both to shreds you brute!"
Zabuza turned to him only very slightly, half of his face visible and the other shrouded in the shadows.
"If you hadn't come on orders I would've left you to bleed to death without so much as a turn. And judging by how everyone seems to perceive you they would've gladly turned their backs on you. They seem to be celebrating the loss of your immunity. Frankly I didn't think she would help you; probably how the other red-head responded to you made her feel sorry … " Zabuza brow crumpled only very slightly, as if he was not sure about the facts he had analyzed till now. "Or maybe she thought of it as murder and didn't want to soil her hands. In any case, if it was anyone else you'd be dead by now-"
"We get the point." Miria cut him off abruptly. Her side bangs were still floating in the air because of how forceful her turn was, then slowly returned to rest on her cheek again. She turned back abruptly once more, giving him her back and finished fastening the bandages on Basta's arm.
Actually, what Zabuza was saying was very true. In fact … it was too true. She listened very carefully in the beginning, taking advantage of Basta's pathetic attempt at arguing the man to analyze the man before them. He was good. He was so good at analyzing the finest details and building upon them to produce facts that when said no one argued. He had barely arrived here yesterday; yet he talked about the place as if he understood all it's mechanics. She was sure he didn't, but the way he spoke, the way he observed and the way he guessed at the facts was flawless. It was all too evident he was a military man. Captain of the ANBU, such a title was only something to exaggerate him in the manga to make of him a strong feared villain. In reality though, sitting with him, speaking with him as a proper human being, it was an entirely different story. Now that title had meaning, it had a past, it had qualifications and it foreshadowed skills. Skills in anime or manga; a story regardless of how it was told, would only be a background build of the character. Now this man was real, his skills were real, and what the writer did not mention or explore all came to life.
The man as a whole had materialized. As a whole. That was … quite the food for thought.
The more he spoke the more she learned, and she wished she could've learned more. There was one slight problem though … she used Basta as a lab rat. In the beginning she didn't care, but then she saw, as Zabuza hit all the right points so perfectly, how Basta's face changed. How the bombardment of facts known but never spoken of hit him from a stranger who did not even know him. Everyone knew everyone hated Basta. Everyone knew everyone wanted to see Basta dead. Basta himself knew. Up until this day his usefulness for Capricorn was all that mattered and therefore he paid little attention to the loneliness he was actually in. He tried to fill it with Roxane, Resa, some other maids but when they brushed him off it only angered him. Angered him that they would not agree to give him acceptance as long as he yearned for Capricorn's. They all demanded he discard Capricorn's acceptance of him for a small chance at gaining their's that probably would never occur anyway. Basta … always clung to Capricorn's because it was that which was bestowed to him as a child. He never wished to part with it. Now … he was cruelly cut off from it; accused to be an old dog that cannot be taught any more tricks. A better beast was found. A better tool was found and Basta wasn't good enough; so he had to go. How so easily they can discard his life never sat well with her. Even if he was a horrid man … sometimes she cursed the fact that she knew the background of that horrid man was a horrid child, and the background of the horrid child was an innocent unwanted child left on the street.
Miria had seen; and was very disturbed by how his face had twisted. How his fingers curled on to the edge of the deteriorating table breaking a few splinters off of it. How his eyes screamed 'I KNOW!'. I know … you don't have to tell me. The explosion of mixed emotion on Basta's face made her very uncomfortable that she simply silenced the whole matter. He knew … no need for him to be reminded of it.
One thing she could deduce from all of this was that Zabuza was either a very cruel man … or he was playing around with a plan in mind. Both thoughts were very troublesome. What was his plan? Why was he picking at all the raw red wounds of a man he only met yesterday? Why was he instigating them? Why … ? Didn't he have a history with people like Basta? A lonely unwanted child … pale with dark hair and dark eyes … completely and utterly devoted to a …
She was stunned with where her train of thought was taking her. Stunned. The plot thickens … Dear God … the plot thickens and twists wildly.
"Woman aren't you done?"
Miria resisted the urge to ball her hands in fists and let out a long exasperated sigh. "You blind?" It was only a soft murmur but it did it's job. He started for the door and she turned to follow. They had given him a black jacket; he wore it open exposing the bandaged abdomen underneath. She looked back at Basta who was lost and confused, still rooted on his seat.
"Aren't you coming?"
He turned to her in an abrupt manner that indicated she had put a halt to a speeding train of thought of his. Alarm slowly seeped in to his dark eyes and he breathed a soft whisper,
"We're so late … Capricorn is going to have me killed."
Miria saw it. She saw the realization creeping on him that his life was no more guaranteed than hers or any other inhabitant of this village. Just a day ago he knew however way he would screw up he might get punished but never killed. Now … he lived like the rest of them. In fear for his life. He stared at her. She had been living like this? How was she living like this not afraid of every corner, every shadow or every breath? One small mistake would kill her; would kill him.
The red-head saw it all and could only think of one thing. The poor, poor stupid man. Had he only now truly known what he had been subjecting other people to?
She licked her lips once and whispered very very softly … the risk was on an all time low she might as well try …
"If you're so afraid he'll kill you why not run away … ?"
Basta's eyes widened dangerously and he got up so fast, the chair he sat one fell backwards. Zabuza, feigning to be at the door was actually observing the whole scene, even though to a normal person he'd be out of earshot and even if he heard anything it'd be a mumbled whisper. To a normal person … a ninja was not a normal person and these people were yet to get used to it. Such interesting things unfolded before him in just one morning … many for just one morning.
Miria knew to stay put when Basta in his rage loomed over her. "Are you insane?!"
She kept her calm even as his fingers curled around her collar. "Want him to hear you?" She huffed back.
He pulled her back into the safety of the open kitchen. It was parallel to what used to be a living room but perpendicular to the front door. That meant there was a wall separating those at the door and those in the kitchen so that they might hear them but could not see them.
"That's treason! You think I'm stupid cowering maid like you?!"
Miria only blinked at his statement once, trying hard to keep the uninterested expression over her face. "Well then why are you complaining about him killing you to me? You're just gonna have to waltz into Capricorn's room with the two of us and grovel for forgiveness."
She meant it as a degrading remark to highlight indeed he was worse than a cowering maid … but it didn't have the desired effect on him. Instead he stopped to actually contemplate it. Then he let her go, to her horror; nodding.
"You're actually smart for a little brainless sparrow … "
It was then her anger surfaced. First, she did not want him calling her sparrow! Second, and more importantly, did this man have no pride?! No dignity?! How could he so easily agree to that?! And to top it all off it was she who suggested it! Oh how she wanted to break that nose of his now. Letting him die would've saved more of his dignity than saving his life. His stupidity did have merits though; he did not think twice that she was actually encouraging him to escape. But at the moment she could not see that as a positive. She threw her palms against his chest and pushed him away from her; disgusted. The heel of her boot could be heard loudly when she stomped off. If anime expression of emotion was real smoke would be coming out the top of her head.
Someone ought to bash him in the head with a hammer maybe some sense would dawn upon him …
As she whizzed past Zabuza steaming out into the morning air, he couldn't help but think one thing …
Well now … that all ended well.
That's all for this time :) Please R & R!
