I do not own Naruto, The Avengers, Ranbo, or the A-team.

Haku has known Master Zabuza for a very long time now. He knows that saying this is relative, because he is not very old in the first place, but years mean a lot to somebody his age.

Haku is seven, and two years ago he was rescued from the cold backwater bridges of Water Country by the man sitting in front of him. After losing everything, he was given life again, and he would never forget or forsake the one who gifted it to him.

Zabuza-sama was a busy man, being an Anbu Hunter captain and one of the legendary seven, but he never left Haku behind, never missed a scheduled training date or checkup. Even if no words were exchanged the whole time, he was there. He was stable. He was something Haku could depend on.

By definition, Zabuza was not an energetic and upbeat person. If there was no need for words, none would be spoken. If an exchange was made, it would be done quickly and systematically. If there was training, it was completed with brutal efficiency, squeezing the most results out of the time and effort spent. He was not a merciful or lackadaisical teacher, and he left Haku no room for failure.

Sometimes the boy would lay down for the night and feel the bruises on his skin, the ache in his muscles, and he would lavish in it. These things were tangible proof that he held his master's attentions, that somebody saw him and was raising him to be useful. The pain was a physical reminder that he was becoming a better tool, better able to serve Zabuza-sama. He would be Zabuza's, not Kiri's. This was their secret.

He was pleased.

There were other things though, little things that shone out like stars in the night, beacons of warmth and kindness. They did not come often, but Haku treasured every second of them, ran the memories of them over and over again in his head until he could recall every sense that had been used. Every sight, sound, smell, taste, touch and emotion burned into his memory so he would never forget them.

They were small, like the way Master Zabuza would braid his hair before training, his fingers dexterously pulling back the lock with a practiced ease and tying them off with deft pulls of twine. Haku doesn't know where his master learned such a skill, but when he asked, the stern and stoic faced shinobi had shifted for a moment. He looked up, away from the campfire and into the night, replying simply,

"A girl taught me."

Sometimes, Zabuza-sama would tell him stories. Either in the barracks or on the streets, in the woods or hidden by the sea. They would make Haku smile, he liked hearing about the A-team, which seemed to be his leader's favorite. Other times it would be about a missing nin named Ranbo, or a team of Kekkei Genkai users named the Avengers. Haku's favorite was about the giant serpent who made the world, and the warriors with painted faces who it made. Zabuza-sama wasn't very good at telling stories, but he treasured the moments anyways.

There was also the way his teacher would stop and watch him as he panted for breath. It was the on the days that Zabuza-sama pushed him harder than usual. His master would look at him and wait, patiently observing, and sometimes Haku felt tested under the weight of that gaze, like he was being compared to something or someone else. The moment would pass, but every time it happened his teacher would end their time together with a meal. Not one that he cooked, because for all his skills, Haku was uncertain that he could complete such a task. It was mundane and beneath his teacher, the child thought. Yet, when eating, his teacher would be quieter than usual, and his hand not filled with utensils would caress the medallion hanging at the end of the Kubikiribocho's handle, his callused thumbs stroking over it's surface again and again.

The medallion had been there as long as he could remember, shining a lustrous golden-bronze even in the dense fog. He knew that this was his master's addition to the great sword, but for a long time he did not ask. He just watched his master handle it. Sometimes Zabuza-sama would sit silently by the fire, and in the dancing light of the flames, he would detach the charm and hold it in the palm of his hands, staring at it with a stone face. It would glitter against his pale skin, taking the light and reflecting it a hundred-fold, making the darkness around them seem less threatening, banishing the worst of the shadows away from their space. His master would pull an expression, something the child hesitated to call a smile. It looked like one, if a smile could be hungry and distant and cold all at once.

Once, he met his taciturn teacher's fellow swordsmen. The man was a giant, stretching up so high the boy thought that perhaps he was blue because he could touch the sky. The man had come in, serious faced with a mission scroll in his hand, see Haku, and a frown took over his lips. Haku had been nervous, thinking perhaps he had displeased his leader's friend somehow. Or broken the cover given to him, an errand boy, and that his teacher would face the shinobi because he could not keep his secret correctly. Panic had filled him, with thoughts of shame and distress. His heart had beat wildly in his chest as the tall blue man had stalked forward, and he had flinched when the man outstretched his massive hand. He had expected pain, a blow perhaps. What he had not expected was for the man with the blue skin to tear the hair stick out of his bun and glare at it with an unreasonable amount of anger. He said nothing to Haku, but when Master Zabuza had stepped forward, out of the privy, the blue giant had glared at his teacher.

"Are you trying to make the boy look like her?" he asked, his eyes darting to the medallion dangling from his blade.

His teacher grunted and shifted the pack on his back. The blue man had narrowed his already small eyes.

"She left us." he said, and Zabuza looked pointedly at the blue gem hanging around the other man's neck.

"Never said she didn't." his teacher answered.

Haku had the feeling that there was something gone unsaid. Like there was more to it than that.

At the time he had just felt relief that he hadn't messed up and disappointed his teacher.

His teacher gave him many orders that made no sense to him, but Haku would do his best to complete them, as if they were missions just for him. The only time he ever balked was when his teacher told him 'to make friends.'

Haku didn't understand what that was, or why he need them. His teacher couldn't explain it himself, but Haku tried anyway.

He never felt like he completed that one, but he was glad he tried. It was kind of fun to play tag and hide and seek. Sometimes the girls and boys in the akasen would play dress up, and he liked that a lot too. They would wrestle, and he would hide his true strength, and there was something… exciting about it. He liked it a lot.

When he told Zabuza, the man would looked pleased, and simply nod. Haku and his teacher could not put it into words, but even if they never knew the truth, having somebody to do silly things with was nice. When asked how he knew, Zabuza-sama would get that look on his face again, touch the medallion, and say,

"A girl taught me."

Eventually, after his seventh birthday, he would broke down and ask, shifting over in his sleeping bag, his short braid flipping to the other side. He saw Zabuza by the fire, and left the comfort of his sleeping roll. With little feet he walked over and sat beside him, this man who was more of a father than his father ever was. He looked down at the metal and tilted his head to the side.

"What is it?" he asked.

His teacher paused in his ministrations and stared at the charm. This close, Haku could see the design on the medal. The raised edges of a fierce shark, its teeth bared and ready, an Oni mask, with jutting teeth and wild eyes, and a mermaid, her tail curled and breasts curtained with long hair, a smile on her face. Each one of them was connected, threaded together with the design of a chain. He was reminded of the akasen girls stories, the ones about the red ribbons of fate. Of course, the chain wasn't like that, but it is what he thought.

"A compass." his teacher said.

It didn't look like a compass, but Haku was not one to question Zabuza-sama.

"What does it find?" he asked instead.

"A girl." the spiky brown haired shinobi told him, his thumb stroking over the smiling Ningyo. His teacher looked at him, away from the medallion, and their eyes met.

"She would like you." he told him, and his curiosity burned.

"Who is she?"

The man remained silent, like he maybe didn't know, but his fingers gripped tighter on the edge of the round ornament.

"Somebody we're going to find." he stated simply. Haku let the quiet reign after that, because the statement warmed his heart. 'We' his master said, not 'I'. Even when they meet the girl, found her again, Haku will be with him.

AN: Some people asked for what the boys were up too! I thought about it a lot, and decided I would put it in here, because they don't quite fit into the story line at the moment. The next story is Why Kisame did the thing he did, and is a bit longer, but I wanted less angst for the moment, and a cute student/teacher piece aout these two.

A gigantic thank you to my beta, aturnofthepage. They helped me brainstorm so much for the pieces, and cleaned up my weird use of tenses, which looking back on it, was fucking terrible.

Thanks to the lurkers, readers,reviewers, favoriters, and followers as well. I love you all.

I don't know if it was stated already, but sometimes, if I like the idea is good enough, I do take recommendations for this. There are no guarantees, but this piece is an example of an idea I adored and turned into a fic piece. Everybody thank the random guest who left me this idea!