Three ficsfinished in one day. I'm making up for the fact I won't write much at all this week. If Azamiko or Fantastical Queen Ebony Black read this,you're bothutterly smexy in my book. Not even kidding, xD. I barely have a story up and the two of you have already reviewed it. Loverly people.
This could be considered a sidestory to White, Red, Black and Orange, but it mostly stands on its own. It's obviously set in the same world as White, Red, Black . . ., Two Swans and The Dingo Ate My Baby. This story is retelling the tragic (xD) tale of The Gingerbread Man, Naruto style.
Title: Running Away
Chapter: One-shot
Genre: Fantasy
Characters: major: Haku, minor: Haku's mother, Haku's father, Zabuza, farmers, drunks, a whore, a theif
Relationships: slight HakuZabu, depending on how you read into it
Now you shall hear a story that was told to me many years ago.
There was once a woman and man, who lived a simple life, in a simple house on the edge of a wood.
Or perhaps, that is not quite true. The woman had a deep secret, and one she never revealed to her husband for fear of his retaliation. Inside her, she bore a power that was much feared by the simple-minded residence of the village, including her beloved husband. Her people had been killed for it, and she never even dared speak their names out of sheer terror.
For this reason, she did whatever she could to impede herself from bearing a child. Any child that grew in this accursed womb of hers would very likely receive the same cursed gift, and would be shunned or half broken inside because of it. Just like her.
Despite all the trouble she went through, though, fate seemed to have taken a dislike to her, because she found herself very large and very pregnant. Her husband was ecstatic, and she tried to act as if she were happy also. Inside, though, there was turmoil so great, it felt like she were about to explode all the time. She even entertained the thought of throwing herself down the stairs to abort the child.
She could not bring herself to kill the being inside her, so she just tried to hope that the child would be born without magic in its veins.
As mentioned before, though, fate disliked the woman thoroughly. A young boy was born to her, one blessed—or cursed—with a near-feminine beauty, and good health. And with the power of his mothers' people in his blood.
As soon as the boy showed signs of having such a skill, his mother begged him to never display it in public, and to never mention it to his father. As so the youth lived year after year, with a mother and father and overwhelming love for them both.
Until fate once again reared its ugly face between them, exposing the hate that had been imbedded into his father since childhood. He could not believe the woman he had lived with, shared a bed with, loved could be one of those . . . things. People that could hardly even count as people. More monster in them than human. It's enough to make him sick.
It's enough to make him kill her.
So he does. And that little bastard, the creature that came from his seed? Was it one of them too? The look in the boy's eye when he saw his mother's corpse sprawled on the ground was enough. He was one of them, or else he wouldn't be siding with her. That child would kill him if it had half a chance, wouldn't it? So he might kill or be killed.
It's not like he's killing a person.
So the boy did what he had to, and ran. Soon he came upon a few farmers, who recognized him as the son of that fine couple across on the other side of the village. By this time, though, the story had twisted into a far more malicious tale.
Demon child, they whispered, and reached out to grab him, to kill him.
I've run away from a little old woman,
A little old man,
And I can run away from you, I can!
So he did what he had to, and ran. Soon he passed a bar full of drunken men and women. By this time, the rumor of a murdering demon child with powers beyond the human's comprehension had spread into this town. The men and the woman saw him pass with their glazed eyes and put two and two together. Almost immediately, they rushed after him, but into their drunken stupor, they didn't have a chance.
I've run away from a little old woman,
A little old man,
A barn full of farmers,
And I can run away from you, I can!
And so he ran. Soon he came upon a prostitute, who offered him a job—mistaking him for a woman. The boy hesitantly refused, and when he did, the woman looked at him closely. She screeched, and cried out that he was a demon, not quite a girl, and not quite a boy. She said he was that murderer everyone was talking about. She reached out to hold on, to hurt him, to kill him.
I've run away from a little old woman,
A little old man,
A barn full of farmers,
A bar full of drunks,
And I can run away from you, I can!
So he did what he had to, and ran. Soon he came upon a thief, who tried to steal something from his pockets. The boy accidently sent an icicle through the theif's palm. As the thief screamed, and cried out in pain and anger—attracting the attention of several others, the boy froze, his eyes wide and scared as he gazed at what he had done. People came towards him, rage and hate shining in their eyes.
I've run away from a little old woman,
A little old man,
A barn full of farmers,
A bar full of drunks,
A whore,
And I can run away from you, I can!
So he did what he had to, and ran. Soon he came upon a comfortable spot on bridge, and sat down. He was tired of running. There was nowhere for him to go, it was time to accept that. A man came up to him, and for once the boy did not see the hate and anger all the others had shot at him through their eyes. The man offered him the chance to be needed, and used until no longer useful.
Needed?
I've run away from a little old woman,
A little old man,
A barn full of farmers,
A bar full of drunks,
A whore and a thief,
But I can't run away from you, can I?
And so the boy went with this man, and was needed and used and . . . loved? He died doing Zabuza's wishes.
For once, the boy didn't do what he had to, but what he wanted to.
Haku died with a smile on his face.