I do Not own Naruto.
Ryuishi has a terrible, horrible habit of spoiling children. It might be explained as a desire to give them chances and materials she never had in either life. It may be that she feels that childhood runs away too fast, and needs to be cherished. It could even spring from that gross, disgusting part of her that goes weak at the knees and blooms into warmth every time she sees a smile light up on someone's face because of what she has done.
Hell, if she's being honest, she doesn't really fucking know where it comes from. She adores children. She likes teaching them new things, and watching their faces light up in wonder. She loves forgetting rules and standards society has beaten into her, and regressing to a younger state of mind. She enjoys forgetting the blood that stains her hands like dye, and the foul things she does to survive in this world. She revels in remembering that there is good, that there is purity and wholesomeness.
Don't get her wrong, she isn't deluded. Kids can be the meanest, vilest creatures at times as well. They can poke wounds just to see the pain it causes, and incite fear because it makes them feel strong. Elementary school was a nightmare and a half for her in her old life.
It goes without saying that she doesn't exactly whoop in delight in the grosser aspects as well. Nobody is pleased to change a dirty diaper, or clean up vomit. Toddlers stick things in orifices that should not have items inserted into them all the time, and the messes the tiny devils can make are out of this world.
Kids are work. Kids are blood, sweat, and tears. Kids are money gone, house a wreck, and food nowhere to be found. Kids are assholes who tear your heart out and stomp all over it in the best possible way.
Case in point, Haku.
Haku, who is eleven years old in a new and unfamiliar place. A boy with a tragic past testing the waters of his new home, and his newer guardian.
Ryuishi is delighted to have him here, no doubt about it. She loves his even temperament, and his big shoujo eyes.
When she presented him with his first binder, and told him that he was who he was, no matter what form he came in, his face had lit up with emotion. When she helped him pick out whatever clothes he wanted, because a boy is a boy even if he wears a yukata, her heart had swelled in size at the smile he sent her.
She likes how attentively he listens when she explains how to properly hold a kitchen knife, and how his fine hair is always a mess when he stumbles out of his room to breakfast in the morning. She is endeared by his manners, and his focus when he grinds herbs for healing balms.
She loves him, plain in simple. She would spoil him to the ends of the earth if she could.
Ryuishi will not, however, allow him this.
"No," she says again, even though his begging eyes are killing her.
"Ryuishi-sama, please," he tries for the umpteenth time. "I need to practice, and Zabuza-sama says you were a genjutsu mistress."
"I was," she agrees. "But I don't use them casually for a reason."
"How can I learn to escape then if I've never had one put on me?" he argues. "How will I know if I am trapped, or if what I am seeing is real?"
"You can practice them, but I'm not going to put one on you," she says firmly. "I know for a fact that Zabuza can do at least one Genjutsu technique."
The young boy frowns harder, staring up at her through thick lashes, his hands clasped in front of him beseechingly. The boy is adamant, but he doesn't know what he's asking. He doesn't know what she would show him, a nightmare that no living soul should see.
She won't do it, almost never does it anymore. Genjutsu is her last resort these days. Even though it is so, so easy for her to reach out and control another person's chakra, to twist it and manipulate it, warping their idea of reality. Even though it's the strongest tool in her arsenal, powerful enough to ensnare a Sannin, she refuses.
"Master Zabuza's strength lies in other areas," Haku defends. It's a nice way of saying that the man can cleave a person in half and fight for days on end, but finite chakra control escapes him at times. His genjutsu is… passable at best. He forgets details, like shadows and smells, or just ruptures the technique by pouring too much chakra in it.
"Haku, you're killing me with that face," she edges, looking for Zabuza for assistance.
"I'll surely stop if you cast an illusion on me," he pleads.
She slides her gaze back to him, straining.
"Why don't you practice casting them instead?" she tries. "I'll stay still and you can attempt to put one on me."
"Ryuishi-sama! I need to learn to defend myself, please, just use one. Zabuza-sama told me that many times your ability to ensnare people in Genjutsu has allowed him time to eliminate them as a threat. What if that happens, and I get trapped, and somebody uses that opening against me?"
She freezes as she looks at the boy. He's so small, and he doesn't know, but that hurts. It hurts to imagine that, to imagine him dead and dying with an arm punched through his chest. It's so easy to do, too see the ways she could fail him, fail them both.
"I won't do it," she croaks.
"But what if," he presses. "You and Master Zabuza can't be there all the time, and things can happen."
She sucks in a breath, because he's right and she can fail. He's young, but they were younger during the war. They were just kids, and they fought those who were little more than children themselves. She remembers Squad Eleven, and Suikami who couldn't have been more than thirty. The walking arsenal who died trying to defend his genin, those kids who ended up dying anyway.
Her world is painted for a moment in hues of crimson red and vivid orange, fire burning against the blackness of night. Kumo nin like ants crawling down the cliffside, and the hideous wet slide of a blade through Kisame's leg. The raw, burned mess of Zabuza's thigh. She's failed before and it can happen again. Has it ever really stopped?
Ryuishi smells weapons oil and feels a steadying presence at her back, warm and safe. She feels a large hand on her shoulder, grounding and real, and she feels so grateful it hurts.
"It won't occur," a gravely voice sounds. "I told you we would practise genjutsu later Haku."
The boy looks put out by the words, pouting and disappointed.
"I thought if I got a head start I could surprise you," he grumbles. "You said she was really good, so…"
"Her Genjutsu isn't for kids," intones Zabuza.
"I'm not a kid!" He defends sharply. "I can take it, I'm old enough, it's just an illusion! Give me a chance Master Zabuza!"
"Haku," Zabuza states firmly. "Enough."
The boy immediately deflates at the demanding tone, sinking down on himself like a collapsing souffle. He doesn't understand, because it's just an illusion. It's a trick, and he's sure he can withstand it.
"The only time I use genjutsu," Ryuishi says quietly, sliding her eyes over to the boy. "Is when I am fighting for my life, or the lives of those I love. Cuts on a person can heal. They scar over and leave marks, yes, but genjutsu doesn't cut skin. It wounds the mind, Haku, and there are some things you can't forget, no matter how hard you try."
She tilts his head up to meet her eyes, bending down just the slightest bit to be more on his level.
"When I use genjutsu, I inject my chakra into a point right here," she says, prodding the crown of his head, around the frontal lobes. "It slides in, and it makes things that aren't real seem real. Every sight, sound, smell, taste, and feeling falls under my control, and it seems just as real as you or I. Only, my chakra does something more everytime I use a genjutsu, something terrible that can't be described with words. I won't show you that Haku."
"Ryuishi-sama," Haku whispers. He tries to imagine her chakra inside him, and he shivers. It always feels vile and unnatural against his senses, just as Master Zabuza's feels violent and evil.
"So you will practice with Zabuza instead of me. Understand?"
He nods his head, and flushes when the woman smiles at him, sweet and snaggletoothed. He doesn't even try to squirm when she leans in to press a kiss against his forehead before drawing away again.
"Now, go run two laps down the beach," she orders, and Haku makes a protesting sound in the back of his throat. He looks to Zabuza pleadingly.
"Don't try to subvert orders by asking her when I already told you to wait," Zabuza states dryly, amused at the expression.
The boy hangs his head with a sigh, because sand is hard to run in. It eats his momentum and slows speed considerably.
The two watch him go, and for a moment, Ryuishi lets herself lean back against Zabuza, blinking away the last of Squad Eleven and locking the images in the darkest parts of her mind yet again.
"You think we can manage to not fuck him up terribly?"
"No," answers Zabuza honestly. "He's going to be a spoiled brat if this is the way you punish him."
Ryuishi elbows the man in the gut and steps away, flicking her hair behind her.
"Better than pretending her doesn't make mistake at all, like somebody I know," she answers.
Zabuza doesn't deny it, and she sighs. If the boy is a little sheltered and spoiled, well, he'll still come out ahead of the game. Besides, her way of punishment if great. He'll be amazing at cardio as he gets older.
AN: No Beta, all mistake are my own. Just a casual reminder in here to say that Ryuishi still has hella issues and is a sucker for kids, and also that having someone there helps. Another casual reminder that Haku isn't perfect, no one is. Also that Zabuza is a stern taskmaster.