Glory
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Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto, nor will I say I ever will. Sue me. You'll get nothing. Except for maybe a large stick up your arse. Make that a large ice stick. So far that it'll double as a tongue. So...just don't. We'll both be happier.
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He had never been in it for the glory. What glory was there to be had when all you were doing was killing; taking people away with your own hands?
He hated the color red. Red was the color of blood…the color of hate…the color of misery. It was a color that he saw constantly, because it was his job.
Money didn't matter to him. He had no material things other than the clothes on his back, a haunting reminder of his past that took the form of a mask, and weapons, in abundance, with which to kill. For a missing-nin, there was no pay-off for killing the enemy. There was only blood, and he hated blood.
But to all the things he didn't have, there countered things that he did. For a boy to exist only as a tool, he had many things. He had someone for which to exist for. He had someone for which to die for. He had someone else's dream to protect…even without a dream of his own. This was fine for him; he did not wish for anything more than he had.
When he killed, he killed with the knowledge that the people he had slain were tools as well. This is what they believed and this is what he believed. That was why when he fought those two genin, he did so with the belief that they too thought themselves tools. For once in his young life, Haku was wrong, and so was glad.
These were young people who had never stained their hands. They had their respective dreams; dreams of which they were confident would come true. They were in it for the glory, the emotion of finding something for which they had been searching for a long, long time and being acknowledged for such an achievement. They had no visions of bloodshed, no thoughts of loss, nothing of the hard road they had to travel before they reached their destination.
They were friends. They were enemies. They yelled, kicked, punched, and bit each other. They fought for each other, and for the sake of their own precious people. The raven-haired boy, survivor of that tragic Uchiha clan, had been killed by his own hands before he had reached his goal. Maybe he could have if he had not jumped in to protect his friend. Naruto-kun, who had never known his blood family, only now finding his true family and determined not to lose them, saw that shadow, one who he could call 'brother,' fall limp into his arms and exhale his last breath.
Haku had known blood family too. His parents, who had once been kind and caring people, were now dead. He remembered his mother, trying so very hard, bargaining her life, to save her son. He remembered his father, a man who didn't want to kill, but at the price of his livelihood, had raised the arm, intending to inflict the finishing blow. Much after that was only a feathery blur in his mind's eye.
But Haku had true family now. Here was a person who needed him, needed his ability. For the first time, he felt alive. And until this moment, he had been alive. Until this moment, he had felt needed…knew he was needed. And from this moment forward, he would be needed no longer.
"Kill me." The request was simple. He himself had performed it many times, so why was the boy hesitating? Did he not just kill his precious friend? It was an equal trade-off, was it not? And yet, he still hesitated.
"Under different circumstances, we might have become friends."
Friends? Did he ever have such a thing? Haku smiled inwardly. It was ironic how you could become so philosophical right before death.
Naruto was rushing him now.
Naruto-kun…He thought, a small smile gracing his features. Arigatou…
Zabuza-san needed him yet. The realization hit him with a bang. Automatically, he caught the demon-boy's right arm and twisted himself away from it.
"Gomenasai, Naruto-kun, but I can't die yet." He didn't even have to think when performing the one-handed seals; having done them so many times. Zabuza-san…I'm coming.
He was just in time to feel the power of pure chakra ripping apart his tissue, even through the power of his ice mirror. There was no pain. He felt a small tingling sensation spread from the point where the silver-haired man's hand was still thrust deep into his breast. The crackling electric waves of chakra sputtered and eventually went out. He coughed and felt an upheaval as he saw mass amounts of deep crimson blood come out of his mouth and splatter onto the cement floor of the bridge.
Looking up; smiling into the face of the one they called "Sharingan Kakashi," the boy saw his mismatched eyes both frozen in a mix of fear, disbelief, and somewhere deep within those additional pupils, a sense of respect. It was a shame that his life would be cut so abruptly. Lifting his hands and holding the hand in place, the only thought that ran through Haku's mind was, this is all I can do for you now, Zabuza-san. Please…take this chance…and forgive me.
With that, he flitted into unconsciousness.
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Zabuza-san…
He was not dead yet. Haku could still feel his familiar body warmth next to his own. The years he had spent with him came floating back, like snowflakes in the winter cold. Funny…he could almost feel those delicate, frozen drops of water on his face. Was this…was this death? It was peaceful. It was…quiet…nice, even. It reminded him of…his parents. And snow…
Then…it was warm. Just a little bit warmer…After years and years as a Shinobi, Haku finally let himself be human. He let himself cry. Just one drop…but he cried for both of them. And he learned that being human was a glory upon itself.
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Fin
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