Obligatory Author's Note: The proceeding fanfic it told in two separate,
but related points-of-view. It is (cross your fingers) one of several
future fics, demonstrating my feeble attempt to both portray and illuminate
the complex character relationship between Zabuza and Haku as I see it
(open to the opinions of readers). As such it contains within spoilers for
the Wave Country Arc.
Warmth By Katty
I met Onii-chan today. I was sitting on the bridge and he stopped for me. I was very surprised. No one ever talks to me any more, unless they're using their angry voices. 'Get away from there, ya damn mutt!'
I think they're talking to me, or maybe to the dogs by me, or maybe they don't see a difference anymore. But I know I'm not a dog. Dogs have dog parents. Mama is a person.
Every time someone talks to me I hope it's Mama. I wouldn't even mind if Mama used her angry voice with me. I'd like to see her again. I'm not sure if I can see her again. Ever see her again. It's been so long.
Onii-chan didn't use an angry voice with me. He said I will die not wanted by anyone, but I already knew that. Papa looked at me with eyes that were cold. If Papa couldn't want me, and Mama is...gone.
It's so soft and warm here. Soft like Mama. Warm like...I can't remember warm. But my face is getting wet. Onii-chan's shirt is getting wet. Gomen. I cling a little harder when I start to shake. Gomen...gomen, Onii- chan. I know I'm supposed to be sleeping. Don't kick me out. Don't make me alone!
"Kid."
"...hai."
"Get some sleep."
"...
...hai."
Onii-chan will let me stay. Onii-chan will want me...
...because I belong to him.
Onii-chan is wonderful...
...onii-chan is kind...
"...onii-chan is...so...war...mmm...
...mmm..."
-----***-----
Finally asleep. Breath, deep and even; limbs, limp; body, dead weight on my side; face, relaxed; jaw, lax; even a near unperceivable drop in body temperature. All the tiny signs that others may overlook are bold indications for shinobi. Indications that spell the difference between safety and danger, life and death.
I'm not afraid of this little kid. There is nothing the kid could possibly do to me with that weak half starved body, not even move without me noticing. I need sleep, but something is bothering me. Maybe it wouldn't be too much of a stretch to assume it's got something to do with the tiny heat seeking leech curled against me.
Still so cold, that tiny body so beaten by the snow and ice it can't ever be warm again.
Such a small thing; insignificant really, if you look at it that way. Just an interesting thing I picked up on a bridge. Nothing more momentous then the gaining of something that someday just might prove its worth. It's not important.
But then why and I still awake? Why am I thinking myself in circles? And why the hell is the kid with me in bed?
...
So frail, like the kid wouldn't even last a good stiff breeze. Cheek cool to my touch, like halfway to death, but the steady thrum against my side and the breath on my hand belie that idea. Soft too...regrettably soft.
Such long eyelashes. Those eyes today.
'Onii-chan, you have the same eyes as me.' No, not at all. I know how my eyes look, hard and mean. The kid's eyes...I don't know how to say...like an animal's maybe, innocent and pure, but to survive...even a snowshoe rabbit, given claws, would tear your eyes out.
Cute nose, full lips, the kid'll be a looker that's for sure. Definite plus there, appearance can't be trained in with hard work, and sometimes a pretty face can be a vial weapon.
...
The cool on my side isn't so distracting anymore, comforting if anything.
Morning...think about it in the morning.
Perhaps it will snow again.
Warmth By Katty
I met Onii-chan today. I was sitting on the bridge and he stopped for me. I was very surprised. No one ever talks to me any more, unless they're using their angry voices. 'Get away from there, ya damn mutt!'
I think they're talking to me, or maybe to the dogs by me, or maybe they don't see a difference anymore. But I know I'm not a dog. Dogs have dog parents. Mama is a person.
Every time someone talks to me I hope it's Mama. I wouldn't even mind if Mama used her angry voice with me. I'd like to see her again. I'm not sure if I can see her again. Ever see her again. It's been so long.
Onii-chan didn't use an angry voice with me. He said I will die not wanted by anyone, but I already knew that. Papa looked at me with eyes that were cold. If Papa couldn't want me, and Mama is...gone.
It's so soft and warm here. Soft like Mama. Warm like...I can't remember warm. But my face is getting wet. Onii-chan's shirt is getting wet. Gomen. I cling a little harder when I start to shake. Gomen...gomen, Onii- chan. I know I'm supposed to be sleeping. Don't kick me out. Don't make me alone!
"Kid."
"...hai."
"Get some sleep."
"...
...hai."
Onii-chan will let me stay. Onii-chan will want me...
...because I belong to him.
Onii-chan is wonderful...
...onii-chan is kind...
"...onii-chan is...so...war...mmm...
...mmm..."
-----***-----
Finally asleep. Breath, deep and even; limbs, limp; body, dead weight on my side; face, relaxed; jaw, lax; even a near unperceivable drop in body temperature. All the tiny signs that others may overlook are bold indications for shinobi. Indications that spell the difference between safety and danger, life and death.
I'm not afraid of this little kid. There is nothing the kid could possibly do to me with that weak half starved body, not even move without me noticing. I need sleep, but something is bothering me. Maybe it wouldn't be too much of a stretch to assume it's got something to do with the tiny heat seeking leech curled against me.
Still so cold, that tiny body so beaten by the snow and ice it can't ever be warm again.
Such a small thing; insignificant really, if you look at it that way. Just an interesting thing I picked up on a bridge. Nothing more momentous then the gaining of something that someday just might prove its worth. It's not important.
But then why and I still awake? Why am I thinking myself in circles? And why the hell is the kid with me in bed?
...
So frail, like the kid wouldn't even last a good stiff breeze. Cheek cool to my touch, like halfway to death, but the steady thrum against my side and the breath on my hand belie that idea. Soft too...regrettably soft.
Such long eyelashes. Those eyes today.
'Onii-chan, you have the same eyes as me.' No, not at all. I know how my eyes look, hard and mean. The kid's eyes...I don't know how to say...like an animal's maybe, innocent and pure, but to survive...even a snowshoe rabbit, given claws, would tear your eyes out.
Cute nose, full lips, the kid'll be a looker that's for sure. Definite plus there, appearance can't be trained in with hard work, and sometimes a pretty face can be a vial weapon.
...
The cool on my side isn't so distracting anymore, comforting if anything.
Morning...think about it in the morning.
Perhaps it will snow again.