Well, keeping things short, I'm on a road trip, and I rarely get internet, so that gives me time to update everything! :D

I hope you like this, you guys!

Promises Not Made are Promises Never Kept

Flashback Five – Light

"Ah!"

There was a vicious popping sound – one that sounded more like a crack from a pistol – before the young boy collapsed onto the snow-covered ground, quivering from the pain.

"Dear-heart!"

"Brat!"

The Tracker ninja took advantage of this distraction to launch a collective attack at the two remaining fighters, kunai whistling through the air as another stood above the boy, seeking to either finish him off of take him captive.

A majority of the kunai collided with senbons, and the boy struggled to pick himself up, trying to ignore the pain and help – it was his fault that they were being attacked, after all. If he hadn't been so stupid and let himself get caught-

The massive blade whistled through the air at the Tracker Ninja, slicing the one towering over the boy in half, making blood splash the otherwise fresh snow.

Another swing saw one gashed across the chest, but nothing fatal as they all dodged to the side, circling around.

"We need to get out of here!" The eldest of the three roared as the other boy knelt beside the youngest one, pulling him up onto his feet.

"Understood!" The boy stated, picking the other up and tossing him to the man.

The boy whimpered as his broken arm was jostled upon landing, and the man held him against his chest with one hand as he swung his massive sword with the other, lashing out at any Tracker ninja who came near.

"You know what to do!" He called to the other boy, who landed in the circle of Tracker ninja.

He raised his hands, began to make hand-signs.

"Understood."

As mirrors of ice formed out of the snow around the Tracker ninja, the man fled.

------

He was crying. He was crying and he couldn't stop the tears.

"I'm sorry…" he bit out as the man set him down on the couch in the safety of their cottage. "I'm so sorry, Zabuza–"

"Shut up, brat," the man told him dryly, taking his arm and surveying it, paying no attention to his own wounds. "You know I hate it when you repeat yourself."

The boy swallowed thickly, still crying. Both from the pain and from regret and guilt. He felt like such a child–

"Haku's going to be okay, isn't he…?" He murmured, biting into a pillow as Zabuza realigned the bones in his arm with a face of cool indifference. "And, Zabuza, what about yourself…?" He had just noticed the blood that was soaking the man's jacket. "You're hurt…"

"And?" Zabuza replied, ultimately dismissing his own wounds as he wrapped up the other's arm. "Those can wait. Broken bones can easily become worse if they're not treated immediately." And then, a little more softly, "And yes. Haku will be fine. Don't worry about him."

The boy's crying eased a little; his arm was growing numb, his mind turning blind to the pain. He sniffled a little.

"I really am sorry…" he breathed as Zabuza finished wrapping up his arm, tying the ends of the bandages into a knot.

Zabuza didn't look up at him. His voice was soft, knowing.

"I know."

Forgiving.

He ran his hand softly down the wounded arm, gazing at it for a moment before he cleared his throat, pulling the boy's arm into a sling. His voice was a bit harsher now, as if to make up for his moment of sensitivity.

"Just don't let it happen again."

Gazing up at him, the boy nodded.

"Okay."

Then Zabuza stood, stripped himself of his jacket and shirt even though it was still cold in the cottage, revealing the ugly wounds he had suffered because of the boy's weakness, his lack of thinking.

It made the boy feel awful.

Then, he thought suddenly, at least I could build him a fire.

So he stood, stumbling over to the fireplace and kneeling down next to it, piling logs into the fireplace with his one good arm. Behind him, Zabuza paused in cleaning his wounds, instead watching the boy with eyes of mild interest.

Swallowing, the boy looked at his one good hand, then back to the fireplace. For the jutsu he wanted to do, he needed both hands.

Wait, no. He reminded himself. Remember the training?

Haku had taught him a secret, five months after he was taken beneath their wing.

"Any jutsu can be made with only one hand," he remembered Haku's voice as the words repeated themselves in his head. "It's just a matter of concentration, and a will of iron. Your determination can move mountains, my dear – all you need is one hand to do it with."

He swallowed.

One… hand…

Slowly, he raised his good arm, held it up.

The pain was making his thought process slow – he fought against the urge to sleep.

I need… to do this…

The way Haku had shielded him came to mind – the way Zabuza had fought for him resurfaced in his memory.

For them.

He swallowed again.

Mumbling to himself, he made shaky hand signs with his right hand and, breathing the final word, put all of his will behind his breath-

A tiny trickle of flame seeped from behind his lips as his throat grew warm with Chakra, and the logs lit up with warmth and light.

Panting a little, he gazed at the fire in front of him.

Then, slowly, he smiled.

Zabuza closed his eyes and looked away, continuing to dress his wounds as he felt a smile trying to creep onto his face.

After a moment – when he was sure he was under control – he turned back to the fire, pausing as he wrapped up his arm. As if just noticing the flames.

"Hey."

The boy turned to look up at him, his eyes wide with anticipation but sparkling a little with satisfaction. Zabuza jerked his chin towards the flames.

"Did you do that?"

The boy paused mid-breath, nodded. Zabuza raised an eyebrow.

"How?"

The boy blushed a little, looked down.

"I remembered…" he breathed softly. "Haku's… training. That one lesson…"

Zabuza nodded as if he just understood.

"Ah. With the one-handed jutsu stuff from a couple of months ago?" He asked, walking forward to kneel next to the boy, making him turn his head to keep the man in his sights. He nodded.

"Yes, that one," he replied, wondering what was going through Zabuza's head as he gazed at the flames.

He smirked, raised his uninjured hand, and set it on the boy's shoulder.

"Good job, brat," he stated, gazing at the fire. "Good job."

The boy gazed up at him, managed a weak smile, then rubbed at his eyes as he felt tears of a different kind rise burn the corners of them.

He cleared his throat, fought to keep face as he lowered his arm and stared at the fire, his face one of practiced disinterest.

"Thank you," he replied. Zabuza gazed at him, knowing better than to trust what was on the surface.

He sat down, raised his hand, and pulled the boy into his chest.

"What are we going to do with you?" He asked simply, his arms around the boy as they sat in front of the fire, careful not to jostle the younger's broken arm.

The boy, shocked, blinked up at Zabuza for a moment before smiling a little and burying his face in the man's wrapped chest, feeling both the warmth of the fire and of Zabuza's arms rush through him to ease the chill in his heart.

Silent, he merely shook his head at the question, making Zabuza smirk a little.

A still, calm silence enveloping the cabin, Zabuza turned his head and gazed deeply into the glowing light of the fire.

----

When Haku returned – a little scratched up and tired with his clothes stained with blood that wasn't his – he returned to a house warm with both fire and the essence of family, and he turned his head in confusion to see Zabuza and the boy still safe in the man's arms.

Zabuza raised his eyes, saw Haku, and huffed a little, turning his face away and raising his nose into the air in stubbornness. It made Haku giggle.

"Tell me, Zabuza…" he breathed softly as he closed the door, so as not to wake the other child. "Did you think this would happen? This devotion? This softness?"

Zabuza scowled, sneering a little. A natural defense.

"How should I know?" He replied gruffly. The boy in his arms shifted a little, let out a miniscule whine at the tone, and Haku had to bite down a laugh when he saw Zabuza's features instantly soften to one of concern and just a little bit of guilt as he gazed down at the boy, making sure he hadn't woken him. When the man looked back up to Haku, the older child's eyes were alight with mirth.

Silently, he moved, sitting next to the two, running his hands through the other boy's hair.

"I know," he breathed, gazing at him. Then his eyes lifted to look at Zabuza. "I didn't either."

Then he chuckled a little, leaning back to sit on his ankles next to them.

"But be truthful, is it really that surprising?"

Zabuza continued to scowl, but then, after a moment, he looked down at simply gazed at the boy in his arms.

He was silent for a long, lingering moment.

"No," he finally replied quietly, thoughtfully. "I suppose it's not."

Haku smiled broadly.

"C'mon," he breathed, setting a hand on Zabuza's shoulder. "Let's get him to bed."

They shifted, careful not to wake the boy, and Zabuza picked him up and carried him to the single bedroom.

Haku pulled back the sheets, and Zabuza set the child down.

"You go ahead and sleep with him, Haku," he told the boy, moving to go sleep on the couch. "I'm going-"

"To what, sleep on the couch?" Haku replied dryly, raising an eyebrow at him. "C'mon Zabuza, it's been over half a year. I'm sure he wouldn't mind it."

"I don't wanna take that risk, Haku," Zabuza replied, sticking his hands in his pockets. "What if he isn't ready? What then?"

Haku pursed his lips, shook his head.

"Then we'll ask him later," he stated firmly, leaving no room for argument. "When his arm heals."

Zabuza, either relieved he got out of it or a little disappointed that he'd have to spend another night on the couch, nodded and turned to the door.

"G'night Haku," then addressing the sleeping figure, "brat."

Haku smiled warmly.

"Good night, Zabuza."

Turning back to the bed, Haku took his hair out of the bun, pulled it into a ponytail. Then he dressed for bed and climbed in next to the other boy.

Smiling a little, he raised a hand, ran his fingers through the other's hair.

"Good night…" he breathed, kissing the other on the temple very, very softly. "…Sasuke."

Then, closing his eyes, he drifted into sleep.

----

In the living room, Zabuza remained awake and deep in thought, sitting at the table in front of the fireplace, gazing at the light of the flames until the fire became ember.

End Flashback Five – Light

Such a cute flashback.

Review?

Ja ne!

DDB