Chapter Ten,

Eyes Like Mine

The puzzle was fractured, still, pieces missing that prevented him from completing the image in his mind. But the outline was there, and he knew what he was searching for. The biggest piece of the puzzle came when he shuffled back out into the snowy air outside, and looked upon the bodies again, gazing back and forth between the frostbitten faces and the photograph of the husband.

The second body, the one he had searched, bore as much resemblance as such a damaged face as that could. It wasn't beyond a shadow of a doubt, but Zabuza was willing to place stakes that it was the husband.

And the scene fell into place.

She must have worked hard all this time, disregarding her past, falsifying every memory of the village, of her family, to live out here with this farmer. They had a kid. They were happy. A normal, simple family.

Until one way or another, the husband found out. Perhaps the wife had gotten into a fight, and showed too much aptitude in the squabble to pass off as lucky agility. Maybe the husband was naturally suspicious, and paid someone to investigate her bloodline.

Maybe it was the child who revealed the dreaded secret.
But the end result was the same.

The husband had come in, with two of his friends to make sure that he could overpower the 'blood tainted'. Someone, whether the missing boy or the wounded wife, had struck out.
The men died, frozen and gutted on the spires of ice. The woman died of her wounds sometime during or afterwards

"There's no reason to investigate this further." He informed the group, as they recollected at the front of the house. "This was a domestic dispute."

To pursue the case would be a waste of time. The killers were all dead, or presumed dead. The missing kid could have not been present, dead before the incident, or had been removed from the scene, forcibly or otherwise. But regardless of the final result, the murder crime didn't affect their mission. Even if Zabuza's curiosity was piqued about the fate of the child (even after the tenth examination of the family photograph he found it nigh impossible to determine for certain the kid's gender) and even if the other members of his squad wanted to learn more about the 'Blood taint' that had lived and died in the house, they still had a mission and did not have the freedom to follow on their own interests.

So it was back to square one; the city.

At night the bustle of the city had eccentrically ceased. Everything was quiet, save for a few stragglers who ran to their houses and boarded up. No more stalls remained in the streets. A picturesque plastic bag bounced and bobbed in the freezing wind over the road. Most of the lights were out, even, giving the place the feel of a ghost town.

"Something's up." Spoke one of the group, in a muffled voice. The ANBU had gathered into an atypically tight little knot as snow fell around them and the air froze their clothes to their skin. Zabuza didn't bother looking behind him, it didn't matter who said it, he was sure they were all thinking it.

At least two Shinobi had relented to show a sign of weakness, rubbing their hands on the opposing upper arms to try and warm themselves. The rest of the group gave invisible glares, trying to wordlessly reprimand the two while on the inside they cursed themselves for their pride. Zabuza was one of the ANBU glaring. He knew he couldn't break his appearance of strength but it was just so damned cold. Even if any relief wasn't worth his pride, it was still worth enough to consider.

The Dog was one of the ones trying to warm his arms. Zabuza was beginning to think he was one real class idiot.

They snaked through the streets and into deeper alleys, where the snow piled high in corners and against trash bins and Zabuza found himself feeling remotely disgusted that even this town would provide a place to freeze to death. How hospitable.

The town, despite its emptiness, was not entirely silent. Well, truth be told, at first the ANBU thought that the sounds were figments that their woefully overactive minds were creating. Some rumbles, a few bumps echoed out, perhaps from the other side of town.

Until a very human cry reverberated in the snowy air, loud enough to breach the doubt they had all cast over it.

Someone was getting attacked? The close knit formation of Shinobi shifted and lost shape, before one masked figure honed in on where the noise had come from and led the group in a charge. Then they were all leaping over rooftops, chakra overtly aiding their feet, to avoid any slips on the iced shingles and wood. The sounds grew more vibrant and vicious as they neared, changing from mute scuffles to full out signatures of combat. Whatever this was, it involved more then just a victim and a robber.

Noiselessly, they charged in a mass, and found themselves looking over the central square of the town, where in the near pitch darkness a fight with at least twenty pairs of men was already well in the process.

Twenty pairs of men were still standing, that is. More then a handful of still bodies lay unnoticed on the frosted stone of the square.

In the night there was no way to identify anyone, Zabuza didn't even try. What would be the point in that? In the remarkable collective thought of an ANBU squad, however, he moved with his comrades to enter the fray.

He saw a crowbar swing in the air, towards him as he moved too close in between two opposing figures. But he also saw the hand holding it, and he grabbed the wrist with a grip like iron.
Only to release it, in his astonishment, when the other fighter behind him struck his shoulder with a truncheon.

He made no noise, no movement to indicate he had even felt the blow--besides the release of the other's hand--but his shoulder was smarting. That would leave a blackened bruise.

Zabuza leaned himself forward and caught the shirt-front of the first man, and with a heave, flung him away from his enemy, and himself. One down.
As he whirled around to face his attacker, however, he was able to see the makeshift battlefield come to a halt. The two opposing factions had been split, with a belt of ruffled ANBU in between them.

The groups did not seem to know how to react to the sudden appearance of ninja. Behind him, he could hear the comrades of the man he had tossed help their fellow up. It was the only noise in the stunned silence that had smothered them all.

"Disturbing the peace." He spoke, the extent of his voice limited by the mask and bandages he wore. "Disturbing the peace." He repeated, uselessly, but now his voice had been heard. And he hadn't been expecting a reply. Especially not one so soon.
From the center of one side of the group came an almost jeering response.

"This is none of your damn business!"

And to everyone's surprise, there was a murmur of agreement from both sides.
But Zabuza had advanced on the young man who had spoken out, before anyone--comrade or otherwise—had a chance to stop him.

"None of our business?" He echoed, close enough in the dark to be able to make out the vigilante's features (He was dressed pretty poorly, so 'vigilante' was the assumption) "We wouldn't be here if we weren't on a mission. And our mission is to stop whatever hell you 'gang members' and 'vigilantes'," Zabuza was lucky he could do subtle; otherwise the amount of disgust that he would have displayed would have looked poorly on a mission summary, "raise. It is, literally, our business. So surrender, all of you, and be glad we're not allowed to slaughter civilians anymore."

His fellow squad members gave silent approval, and at once the murmurs of the townspeople ceased as they struggled to accept the speech the Momochi had laid down for them.

It seemed some decisions had to be made. The mostly untrained civilians had to estimate whether they as a group could take on six ready-for-war ANBU members. Even the gang members would be hard pressed to successfully pull off such a stunt. Maybe if the two fighting groups worked together they may have given them some trouble, but such a unity would be impossible.

The only agreement that came up was the identical surrender from both sides.

The ANBU squad had split off into two sets of three. The Monkey, being a 'leader figure' lead the Fox and the Boar to round up the gang members and to seek out their leader. Zabuza was left with the Crane, who seemed to be able to address the townspeople at an easier level. Perhaps it was the common misconception that kunoichi were gentler than their male comrades. Either way, they seemed more willing to trust her than him. The Dog was also left to his group, unfortunately. Like the last kid picked for the team in some child's sport, the Dog had been placed in his care. Which was fine. Zabuza could tolerate him if he didn't make a nuisance of himself. The three of them did work together, as expected, however, and they toiled to gather the bruised and wounded townsfolk into a building for holding.

The main focus was to address the leader and settle things down. If the vigilantes refused to stand down and let the local authorities handle things, then their leader would be brought into custody. Simple as that. But for now they helped gather up the unconscious wounded and get everyone together to stay put.

But the vigilantes were rude, foulmouthed, and generally ungrateful for all the work the shinobi were doing for them.
"This isn't worth what we're getting paid for." Zabuza heard the Dog mutter under his breath, after being sworn at by some older teen.

And, despite the contempt he had for that teammate, Zabuza had to agree with him.

He already had some idea of what the rebel leader was going to look like, and for the most part, the man fit the bill.
He was rugged, dark stubble at his chin, with black hair graying in some places. He was tall in comparison to most, around the same height as Zabuza, even. And he was rather… angry. Well, Zabuza would have preferred the term passionate, as that was what the phenomena was referred to from a political standpoint, but from any other view the man just seemed pissed off.

"You Shinobi have no right to boss us around!" He slammed his fist on the wall of the empty room they had picked out as a place to commune. Zabuza and the Crane did not move from where they stood, unshaken from the gesture, but he still found himself moderately thankful that the door was open, and that the other members of the vigilante group could see that their leader wasn't under attack. He was making so much noise, it very well could lead into a revolt, and that would just be annoying.

"You abandon our village, unless we have money to pay you, and leave our town to be devoured by the criminals?" Pacing around the room, the leader was active, agitated, "Let us handle our own problems. We'll settle this without your help."

Zabuza's answer was quick, it only took a second to prepare, "If you could handle this without putting your village at risk, we would let you, but now your actions are endangering—"

He was interrupted, however.

"Bullshit." The man snapped back, and out of the corner of his eye Zabuza could see the Crane flinch. Tsk. She was useless in the deliberations. He gave her a gesture to go attend to the people outside the room, and she graciously accepted.

For a breath's pause the leader watched her leave, before turning his attention back to the other ANBU. The breath had been enough to quiet his voice down from a yell. "Look. I already know the reason you shinobi haven't been helping us. Your leaders have been gaining money from those gang rings ever since they moved into town. You ninja dogs want a stake in our honest living and by watching from the sidelines you're guaranteeing your cut at the payment. You don't want to help us; you want to shut us up! If you really cared, you'd have chased these… these criminals out a long time ago."
This… made Zabuza pause, and at once a warm feeling of some pride seemed to gather up from inside his stomach. He didn't think any outside villagers knew about this kind of stuff. At least, anyone alive.
Not even he had known for sure if the gang leaders had been bribing the guys in high places to prevent any justice from falling on their necks. But know he knew.

"And don't even try telling me it's not true because—"

With a simple, assuring blankness, Zabuza interrupted him before he could return to his rant, "I won't. You're right."

The man stopped, apparently shocked with what he had heard. And he had to struggle for a moment to swallow what Zabuza had just said. But the only response Zabuza received was a simple, "What?"

Not that the ANBU really expected any more. "Everything you've said is true."

And with a simple motion, Momochi Zabuza lifted his hand to the porcelain mask on his face, and removed it.

ANBU were never supposed to remove their masks until they had returned to their villages with their mission completed. It was simply against protocol, and the act disrupted the needed anonymity for a squad to function. Occasionally a 'loose cannon', as the more disobedient shinobi were termed, would remove uniform. But typically such an event meant that two shinobi were about to fight as most ninja preferred to see an enemy's face when a fight was personal.

But for Zabuza, it wasn't about any fight. No. It was actually for the sake of the man he had to convince. How could you believe someone hiding behind a mask?
The gesture was not entirely lost on the leader of the vigilantes. He regarded the shinobi with a conserved look of surprise, examining his face while at the same time, trying to look detached.

Zabuza took that as his cue, and began to explain. His words were less muffled now, but the bandages on his face did hinder some of his speech. Too bad, removing them would show his teeth, and more so distract the man from what he was saying.

"Understand this; the leadership of Kirigakure has been plagued for corruption. They have been harming my village, and the surrounding country." Under his bandages, he cracked a smirk, "But there will be a change in government soon. A government will come that will care about your town's needs, and will not tolerate this gang behavior. Until then, I need you to tell your townspeople to settle down. To let us bring an end to the fighting so we aren't ordered to forcibly quiet everyone. Can you do that for me?"

His impromptu speech was met with silence, a thoughtful silence. The leader paced around, breaking eye contact. The ANBU watched on, considering whether he had sounded genuine enough.
His answer came soon enough, when the civilian turned around.

"Very well. Inform your leaders that the vigilantes will lay down their arms for now. Make sure the gang members do the same." He spoke, in a voice that sounded ragged from cigarettes over the years, "In all honesty, we're tired of fighting. I just didn't think it would end like this."

Before he could open his mouth to reply with some statement of camaraderie, Zabuza's attention was abruptly taken away by a sudden loud banging on the wall of the hallway outside.

"Did you… hear that?" He heard the civilian ask, half in a murmur.

A second, more concentrated thud resounded, preceded by a choked human cry.

Without thought, Zabuza was rushing out into the hallway, and the first thing he saw was blood.

The other vigilantes were all backed up, away from the solitary ANBU who had pinned a man against the wall … with his standard grade katana. Blood was seeping out of the wound on the man's shoulder. The Dog. The damned Dog. That could have hit a vein, even though it was not a fatal strike. Whether out of shock or trying to save face, the victim was not crying out. Rather, he grit his teeth and breathed in sharp hisses. The Dog wasn't aiming towards or away from the main vein in the area, Zabuza noted. He was clumsily trying to keep his victim in place.

Zabuza grabbed the other shinobi by the wrist, twisting it until the sword was released. Best just to leave the man pinned. The Boar was their medic and he didn't know where he was at the moment.

However, the Dog was not entirely willing to let go. Nor was he willing to stop his attack when Zabuza pulled him away.

"The hell are you doing?" Zabuza roared, only now becoming aware that he had left his mask back in the other room.

Slowly, the Dog stopped struggling, and looked up at his teammate.
"They were making a ruckus, comrade. I moved to quiet them." His tone was … smug. The Dog was downright proud of what he had done.

Startled, infuriated, Zabuza could only respond with something less than diplomacy. "…Idiot."
He swung his arm in a sudden punch and his knuckles slammed into the cheek of the other ANBU. The blow dug into flesh, and jerked the other back, his head whipping to the side.

The hallway was silent, except for the ringing of a painted mask across the tile.

For a second, as the Dog was unmasked, Zabuza was greeted with a contradiction of images.

The other Mist nin was still, head turned, mouth open, oddly blue eyes wide.
Unmasked, The Dog seemed… feminine? Full lips, long teal hair. How odd in comparison to his ragged voice.
Until the moment The Dog looked back at him, bruised, and glaring.
And then a brief recognition came through Zabuza. He had seen this mug before.

Kurosuki—

His thoughts were cut short, however, as the other shinobi swung his arm, and fist collided with face. Zabuza saw stars for a moment, reeling and nearly bumping back into the man bleeding again the wall.

He couldn't hear the leader of the vigilantes yelling at him, only the Dog giving one low snarl, and the two of them were suddenly grappling.

Shinobi fight in many different ways. Many times, you might not even see their attacks. Other times, they show flashy elemental techniques, trying to dominate one another. They may be graceful, they may not be.

Two shinobi simply fistfighting are not going to be graceful. Especially if they have no taijutsu discipline beyond their own raw strength.

In fact, they look like dogs, scrambling to get the best bite in on their enemy's throat.

All the townsfolk around them saw little hope in intervening. It was a frightening sight, that was certain. Even the Crane stood rooted to the spot, shocked, disgusted, and unable to speak.

Zabuza had just compromised any chance he had at getting a good word in for being a squad captain. He had blown it, it was gone, all because he couldn't keep his nerve around Kurosuki freaking Raiga. So, as anyone would do, he was taking it out on the object of his aggravation. Which was going rather swimmingly, as he managed to land three undercuts in the other's gut before he had to struggle to block a counter attack. But, his failure had to be cemented.

Having finished rounding up the gang members, the three other Shinobi arrived to check up on their comrades, and found two of them currently in a brawl, one watching the brawl commence, and a civilian currently dying with a weapon in his shoulder.

Zabuza allowed the Monkey to grab his shoulders and drag him away from his opponent.

His opponent, however, resisted, struggling against the Fox who was trying to hand him his mask back. Behind them, Boar wrenched the sword out of the civilian and rushed to stop the bleeding.

The Monkey was yelling at him. The leader was yelling at him. Kurosuki was swearing and swatting at his mask…

He brushed the ANBU's arm away, despite the other's noisy protests, and stormed down the hallway.
Shoving open one door, he walked out into the snow.

The families of the two sides embroiled in the battle for the town had drifted out of their homes to see what had happened. They shrunk away from him as he came, extruding a killer intent in his movements and in his gaze fixed firmly on the snowy ground in front of him.

There was no direction in his walking, he just wanted to get away to vent in a place where such a display wouldn't be noted. He turned down an alley, crossed a bridge. Kept walking.

The lamplights had been turned on again, after the battle had been dispersed. The sky looked gray in their light, with white flecks still coming down. It was there, under a light, near some rubbish, that he nearly walked past a child, kneeling on the sidewalk.

Why was he even doing this? Pandering to his village's wishes when he should be leading it. It was all wrong. He was tired of being someone else's tool (And a rather poor one at that.)
He felt a gaze on him, and he looked over his shoulder.

The kid was covered in dirt, with a collar attached to a broken chain. Like a mutt that had gotten away from his owner. And the kid was looking up at him.
Two feelings came over the ANBU at once. First, a surge of understanding connected to some old memories of being out on the street. But his anger, his frustration swallowed that, and he was speaking before he could catch himself.

"Pathetic." It came half in a sigh, an exhale of cruelty.

Briefly, the child's eyes lit up, at being acknowledged.

"You're a filthy little left behind, aren't you? You're going to die soon, no doubt. You'll freeze, here, alone. Without a purpose."
He stooped over, to be closer to the child's level.

"No one to care for you. To mourn for you when you die."
His utterings fell upon a blank face. Silence stifled the air, until the boy smiled.

"Your eyes are just like mine. We have the same expression." A faint whisper, through shivering lips.

There was nothing that could have escaped Momochi Zabuza in that moment. No response, nothing besides to continue the stare, seeing himself reflected in the child's eyes.

And he was right.

Finally, he forced himself to breathe. Air entered his lungs, and he could move again.
He hoisted the child to his feet; he was leading him along, back to the squad. The mission was over. They would be leaving soon.
The boy gave no sound of protest; he did not struggle at all.

And Zabuza spoke words to claim life, "You belong to me now."

Yessss. Haku is finally introduced and the ANBU mission is concluded. I hope it was satisfactory.

I also hope that Raiga being 'The Dog' didn't come as too much of a surprise. When I look back, it doesn't actually seem that hinted at.
I also beg your apologies for the extremely long lapse in posting. The holidays. School. Writers block. I can't believe I managed to write this with Viva Pinata in the house. But I digress. I shall hope to be better updating in the future and I thank all of you reading, reviewing and alerting this fic. It makes me very happy.