Haku

Please Savior, Savior, show us

Hear me, I'm graphically yours

Someone to claim us, someone to follow

Someone to shame us, some brave Apollo

Someone to fool us, someone like You

We want You big brother, big brother

I know You think, You're awful square

But You made everyone and You've been everywhere

Lord, I think You'd overdose

If You knew what's goin' down…

David Bowie - Big Brother


Three days later found Haku alone in a plush guest suite on the upper floors of the Mizukage's palazzo with a good view over the Ando and Okada Canals and their many-towered mansions as well as the Water Market of which there was almost nothing left now but a muddy lake pocked with islands of debris. The morning sun lit the thin cloud cover with a diaphanous, mesmerizing glow, gentle shades of orange and yellow bursting with promise. In the dream conjured by the pastel sunrise, the Village Hidden in the Mist was a peaceful place, always had been, always would be.

Much as he'd like to, the teenager could not lose himself long in the moment. Despite all the troubles he'd weathered, Haku felt a stab of guilt at being able to indulge in such a daydream while cocooned in immense luxury, well fed, clothed, bathed, coifed and manicured, pampered like a prince, having had an entire team of medical ninjas and conventional physicians restore him to full vigor while most of the city lay in shocking ruin. That he languished, miserable here, only made that guilt more pronounced.

The former Demon's Apprentice rested a pale arm against the window pane and looked out beyond the bars, feeling the presence of shinobi guards all around assigned ostensibly for his protection but in reality to ensure that he stayed put. On the street below past the iron gates where villagers passed back and forth in slow, sporadic trickles, a passing child noticed him, stared, broke out into a glorious smile then pointed, jumping up and down with uncontained excitement. She was joined by an older brother bent under the weight of water and rations gathered from a nearby relief station. They waved, called to him but were too far away for him to make out what they said through the glass. Others joined them.

It took a moment for the young ninja to process that, yes, they knew who he was and were waving to him…to him. Haku smiled faintly and waved back, warmed and at the same time discomfited by their gesture. Could this really be the same Kirigakure he'd been a reviled fugitive from just a few days before?

It didn't make sense. He hadn't changed. Not by much in any case.

Had he?

Haku moved from the window before any more people could gather and likely draw a security response, took a seat and tried to meditate some to pass the time but his thoughts wouldn't allow it. He was tired. Too much had happened…and too quickly.


Following his encounter with Itachi, Haku had, with Yashako and her contingent of mist-ninja close on his heels, hurried to the stone pier on the banks of the Unagi Canal where a great pyre of unnatural white flame blazed blindingly bright, hungry enough to devour the entire world. This was the same fire, a sinister union of forbidden science and ninja magic that had, maybe, rid the world of the dreaded Kisame Hoshigake; the same weapon that Kirigakure had used long ago to destroy their blood-gifted clans along with their lands and houses.

Last he knew it was burning still.

A safe distance from the pyre he found the team from the Leaf Village all battered and drenched. Though Sakura was healing Kiba and Naruto the battle had gone far, far better than anyone could have hoped with no fatalities on their side save for Hideo. The man had been one of Lord Nikai's undead creations but Haku still felt it as a loss. Tensai, Sakiko and Gennosuke were nowhere in sight, and Haku ascertained that they had gone back to their warship, the stolen Fire Tongue, and were headed away from the Mist Village under the cloak of Nikai's jutsu. In hindsight, Haku wished he'd contrived a way to join them.

Kiba, bruised and bloodied from his fight with Kisame, stared at Haku.

"You beat Itachi Uchiha?" he gawped in disbelief, put a hand to his wet, shaggy-haired head and started to laugh.

Before Haku could explain anything about their battle had really played out, or even show him the broken wrist the Akatsuki had dealt him, Naruto came at him in cold fury. "You knew, didn't you?" he growled. "You knew and didn't tell me!" Flustered, Haku hadn't known what to say and then Yashako and her troops hustled all of them off to a secured wing inside the Mizukage's palazzo where Mei Terumi and Captain Ao had met them.

With everyone else taken to get cleaned up and checked out, Haku and Shikamaru sequestered with Mei and Ao to finalize the last part of the chunin's plan. One of their ninjas wrapped and splinted Haku's wrist right there, attended to his various other injuries as best he could as they talked then found them some bottled water and bagged snacks. Shikamaru barely had time to towel off and change out of his wet clothes and into some borrowed ones. Though Haku hadn't known him long, it was strange to see the leaf-ninja with his normally tightly-tied and tamed hair hanging down about his shoulders in tangled disarray.

With his head too full to think, still queasy and shaky and beaten up, in some ways haunted by spells of lingering terror from his fight with Itachi, Haku was grateful that he could just sit back quietly and let Shikamaru handle most of the work, chiming in only here and there as needed. Mei had plead with Lord Nikai not to destroy Kirigakure though he had every reason to do so. He hadn't. Now was the time for her to offer something in return. Nikai and his blood-gifted followers could have no greater a mind representing them than Shikamaru.

Shikamaru Nara – there was a kind of devil in his own right. In a world where shinobi would marvel over such splashy, noisy things as tailed beasts, kekkei-genkai, masterful swordsmanship or spectacular jutsu, Shikamaru's quiet genius for turning impossible odds into inevitable outcomes might pass unnoticed. It was only because of him there was anything at all left of the Mist Village and that any of them had survived. 'The plan' had been largely his creation along with Okami's. Should events conclude with anything like a happy ending and not descend into a further litany of massacre and mayhem, it would be because of them.

"You're the real Angel of Kirigakure," Haku told him when Mei and Ao had gone off to confer in private, "not me."

He'd been weary. The absent thought had escaped him without any accompanying explanation and he'd figured that Shikamaru might not even know what he was talking about but, of course, he did.

"If you tell anyone that, I will never forgive you," the leaf-ninja shot back with a penetrating intensity that made Haku quail. Then he leaned away and was his indolent self again. "Like I need any more trouble in my life."

Haku had given him a timid smile and nodded his assurance that the leaf-ninja's secret was safe. He counted - wanted to count - Shikamaru as a friend but even friends sometimes held territory in which none could trespass. For the chunin, maintaining things at a slow, deliberative pace was his. Considering what Haku owed him, helping him in this was the very least he thought he could do.

Naruto had told him once that Shikamaru was lazy. Haku thanked Heaven and Earth for that and prayed it would always be that way. A Shikamaru as deeply cunning as he was, possessed with the kind of ruthless ambition that had animated Master Zabuza was the kind of man nothing in the world could stop!

Within a couple of hours, the four of them had drawn up a number of letters and documents and dispatched messenger ospreys to carry them. Haku's head swam slightly with enormity of what they'd done. Mei and Ao had an entire wrecked city to look after and so they'd excused themselves and rushed off. Shikamaru just seemed tired.

"So," Haku ventured, "your father will take care of the rest?"

"Yup." The tall boy nodded then stretched his arms. "Stop worrying. This kind of thing is nothing new to him." He looked at Haku obligingly. "What about your guy in Wave Country?"

"Tazuna," Haku answered. "He's smart and brave, used to getting things done under tough deadlines. He won't fail. I'm sure of it."

"Well then, we've done all we can. Our part's over. The rest is up to others." Shikamaru rewarded him with a look then grinned - a sharing, conspiratorial look. Haku smiled back, raised his chin in a gesture he'd picked up from Mari's family – 'you're good for something after all'.

It hadn't been long after that that Lord Hirai returned with his loyalists who swooped in and took over, casting the place into uproar. More than a few mist-shinobi were taken-aback that the Councilor would show up now after having been conspicuously absent all through the worst crisis in Mist Village history. Many saw Mei Terumi as the one who'd stepped up and saved Kirigakure, as much or more than Haku had, had gotten used to her being in charge and would rather it stay that way.

In the midst of all the internecine drama, toward Haku the old man proved astonishingly genial. He assured the young ninja that all his comrades from the Leaf Village would be safe and quickly returned, including Naruto on who he no longer had any designs. Adding to that, the Clan Patriarch presented to him, true to his word, not just a pardon for all his past crimes but exoneration – a fiat declaring, in essence, that he'd never committed any crimes at all. With that, just like that, he was a criminal, a fugitive from justice no longer. He was Lord Haku Aramata now, a clan Patriarch who owned lands even if they lay abandoned and in ruins, and he himself his clan's only surviving member.

Haku was stunned at first, having imagined this alliance of theirs a matter of convenience to be forgotten as soon as he'd completed his part of the bargain. But then Hirai's largess took on a more surreal turn, evolving into a strange sort of patronage. Hirai swept the teenager along on a not entirely voluntary grand tour of the hardest hit areas of the city where he stood side by side with him before bewildered crowds, introduced him to ranking jonin and visiting daimyo there to survey the damage now that the quarantine had been lifted, important people within both the Hidden Mist Village and the Land of Water. He went out of his way to praise Haku in flights of impassioned, gushing prose that often bordered on embarrassing, in turns transforming the boy from criminal, enemy of the state and rumored deviant into a peerless champion.

They all thanked him, expressed amazement at his exploits – stopping Krishenay Rahaman and his 108 Demons, repudiating his former master's zealots, destroying the bandaged men. They fondly remembered Zabuza Momochi's admirable qualities, his defense of Kirigakure against the Kaguya clan alongside his Seven Swordsmen brothers, his many successful missions and boundless passion. They vented rage over all the destruction the triads had wrought.

It had taken a bit for a perplexed Haku to piece together what they meant, what people were talking about, starting to believe – that the true authors of all this devastation were in fact criminal gangs that had hired powerful mercenaries to destroy the Mist Village, a plot thwarted only by the heroic Demon's Apprentice who'd enlisted rogue ninja from other villages for help and convinced his outcast blood-gifted brothers and sisters to come to the aid of Kirigakure despite their considerable, legitimate grievances.

Hirai had, accordingly, issued a directive against the triads, the infamous Yotsu Gang primarily, increasing the already severe sentences for their crimes and posting huge cash bounties on the heads of its members.

Haku'd been astonished by all this but what could he say? Even if he tried to explain what had really happened, who would listen, where would he begin and what would he accomplish? The boy had marveled before at Okino's power to turn illusion into reality, shape it with his mind but Lord Hirai had very nearly the same ability, maybe even a greater one. The ninja-lord caught Haku staring during a quiet moment between events and asked what troubled him.

"Do they really believe this?"

Hirai shrugged, taking the question in stride. "Most do, some don't. It doesn't matter by and large as long as they accept it."

"But how?" he asked, thinking the answer seemed insufficient. "There're too many holes in the story, too many witnesses to the truth."

The Councilor returned a knowing smirk. "You're confusing objective reality with consensus – the shared truth that binds us and forms the foundation of our civilization."

"But what you're telling people," the teenager countered, though not exactly sure what it was that bothered him, "this story you're spreading, is a fabrication, it's…"

"What – flim-flam, fiction, bullshit? It's necessary." Hirai gave him a kind look and leaned toward him. "What did you come here to fight for, risk your life over? To save lives, restore peace? Well done!" The old man patted his arm and rewarded him with a fond smile. "You did it. Now that it's restored how long do you think it will last? People are by nature contentious and must be unified by a narrative that satisfies, not disturbs, that directs their energies toward constructive purposes. Peace is only possible under the umbrella of common values and faith in leadership. After a calamity of this magnitude, people are furious for answers and they must have them. They have to see order restored, justice done and the guilty punished…and quickly."

The teenager's gloomy expression hadn't changed.

"Haku," Hirai tried again, "when I was young and foolish I made a terrible mistake. I tried to convince people based on unvarnished truth. I had assumed that governing was merely the development and implementation of rational solutions to identifiable problems, pure cause and effect. What a disaster! I learned quickly that you can't convince anyone of anything they don't want to believe, that impugns their identity or values or history no matter how hard you try…and certainly not if your aim will cost them any money or worse still – benefit anyone they don't like. They won't support you. They might even fight you. It doesn't matter how well-reasoned your arguments are, how carefully-crafted your policy, how accurate your equations; it's all useless. You can't shovel water. 'You can't carve rotten wood', Haku, and believe me, most of it's rotten.

"Ah, but now to convince people of something they want to believe anyway, that appeals to their fears or aspirations, to that primal essence that makes them who they are," he smiled and looked at the teenager profoundly, "that's different! They'll flock to your cause like pigeons to bread crumbs. This is human nature. This is why the truth of what is must always be subordinate to the truth of what must be."

Haku fell quiet, sure only that he failed to see the majesty in what Hirai saw which, he gathered, was something like all the world's mysterious clockwork reduced to a single elegant formula.

"You know what I'm preparing you for, Haku," the Councilor continued in a confiding tone. "I told you back in Wave Country but I failed to make clear how important it is that you be our next Mizukage – a young hero to instill hope in a troubled time, someone who's overcome a difficult past to achieve incredible things, someone willing to sacrifice for the greater good," his steely eyes settled meaningfully, paternally on Haku, "someone to be proud of. With you we can rebuild as other Villages have, bring back into the fold some of those disenchanted shinobi who took your master's side during his coup attempt. We can restore our lost blood-gifted clans to their former place." He frowned. "It's terrible what they lost, how they suffered, the injustice of it."

Out of everything Hirai had said, that last part flummoxed him the most. "But you were Councilor then!" Haku pointed out, remembering the charred, snow-draped ruins of his ancestral home on Kaori no Hana Island, suggestions of a family he'd never known, a family that had, willingly, bathed in the hellish, white-fire conflagration of the Fire-Tongue Fleet's bombardment. "Surely you agreed to the order to exterminate us."

"And I would again," Hirai answered at once. "It was necessary to the survival of our village. But that time has passed, Haku." The man's blunt tones turned hopeful. "Now is the time to right those wrongs and to make amends."


Back in his chambers in the Mizukage's palazzo, Haku stewed and pondered. He hadn't dared ask Hirai the question he most wanted to: 'Is that the real truth…or are you telling me the truth of what you think is necessary for me to believe?' And Haku cursed himself for a fool because he DID want to believe. Unbidden visions crept into his head of a transformed Mist Village, that a fifteen-year old Mist Lord Haku, loved now where he was once despised, would sweep away decades of autocracy, militarism and enshrined violence and replace it with…

"Cake and ponies," he supposed, scoffing at his naiveté.

Hirai was already controlling his mind and the Councilor had hardly even started. Haku knew he wasn't ready to be Mizukage nor would Hirai ever allow him to really be one. The Councilor would run the place just as before but with him as the facade, with even greater control now that his rival Inoue was gone. And if it ever became 'necessary to the survival of our village', a condition that was certain to be widely and inconsistently interpreted, the elderly ninja-lord would turn on him with the same vigor with which he supported him now.

The memories and experiences Haku's Mist Village elders had shared with him agreed that this was so but were split on how to move forward. Some suggested that he take the honor even with all its binding strings and make it his over time; Hirai had lived for over a hundred years but could not endure forever. Others, that he kill Hirai as soon as practicable then rule as he likes. The rest assured him that he was already in way over his head.

Judging by the people Haku had met, the faces he'd seen in the streets, many looked at him in a very different light now and some with genuine awe. Voices in the crowd called to him – "the Angel of Kirigakure" - not as a joke as Yashako had but for real. It wasn't flattering. He found being the object of such passion unnerving, frightening, their faith in him misplaced or, at the very least, out of proportion. Others he'd met simply saw how the tide was moving and had jumped on in varying degrees of subtlety, seeking whatever might be gained from getting with Lord Hirai's program early. And some would never forgive or accept him no matter what.

Haku wondered if it would be any different in Wave Country when his true identity came to light.

Suddenly anxious to test a theory, the teenager looked toward a sideboard laden with drinks and snacks for his comfort, went to it and poured himself a glass of water. The pitcher rested in a bowl brimming with ice and had ice in it as well which struck him as a curious redundancy. Using his blood-gift, he froze the water solid but the effort cost him far more chakra than it should have, leaving him spent and shaking.

"Dao magic," he concluded, supposing it well within Lord Hirai's ability to suppress his ninjutsu given that he'd had so much time.

So there it was. His situation crystalized – he was a prisoner and about to make his warden very unhappy.

The old man couldn't actually make him be Mizukage even if maybe he could force him to stay…or could he? Hirai had offered him all the treasures of the world before and though Haku was deaf to bribes of fame and wealth, or thought he was, he was only human. If those levers failed to move him surely the wily Councilor would find others that would. It made the teenager despair to think about and he wondered if he'd ever be able to go home again, back to the life he wanted. Back to Mari. One thing was certain, Hirai would not leave his cooperation to chance this time. Not after the last time. If he was ever going to escape it'd have to be soon before the noose drew even tighter, before the concrete had a chance to cure; it'd have to be now, today.

A soft knock drew his attention. Haku rose and paced to the door as it slowly swung open.

"It's time, Lord Aramata," Taka announced.

Taka and Funaki, his 'custodians' had been carefully vetted and had, plainly, worked with each other often. Both were Hirai loyalists to the core and, though polite, made sure Haku had no avenue or opportunity for escape. Taka looked like a brute but was a twitchy sensory type with a fondness for the gymnasium. Funaki was a scrap of a man as scrawny as a strip of overcooked bacon but had the walk and the scars of a man who fought a great deal and had learned the art the hard way.

Taka froze in astonishment then looked at their captive with lips downturned. "He can't go like that."

Being famous did have its bright spots. Haku had received some gifts. One of his new admirers had presented him with a silk kimono of luxurious blues embroidered in a fractal, floral snowflake motif, details accentuated with stitches of fine silver thread, and with it a matching obi sash featuring panels with the crane-and-carp emblem of the Aramata Clan. In it he looked, not like a slim, young schoolgirl, but like a slim, young empress.

Haku gave them a defiant look, brushed his flawless, raven hair back to show the matching rings and polished blue fingernails. A line drawn in the sand. No, he had not defeated Krishenay Rahaman unaided but he had defeated him; he had not defeated Itachi Uchiha but he had survived a round with him. That put him at a level. His grey eyes showed the confidence. Both men knew not to underestimate him even with his powers suppressed. That's why they were here.

Funaki shook his head, fought back amusement and waved his partner off. "Come on, we can't be late." Meaning: it's not worth it.

Haku was under no illusions. He'd only won because he had to be presentable for this meeting, not like he'd been forcibly subdued.

The pair accompanied the teenager through corridors, down stairways and across courtyards all devoid of people, very probably having been cleared well in advance. Haku's hopes for ditching his escort soared when then they took him outside then plunged abruptly as he sensed the larger ninja teams circling them just out of sight to ensure he didn't. They wouldn't leave anything to chance especially when he was in transit.

Heaven and Earth, he thought, despairing, I was stupid not to have fled. What if I've already missed my chance?

Their destination turned out to be an older palazzo as crusted with ornate decorations as it was by spall, stains, bird droppings and layers of paint proudly collected over the passing of ages, sandwiched in a street lined with such buildings, some greater, some lesser. Haku remembered that he'd walked past this edifice many times during his years with Zabuza but never thought anything about it but that it was just another old building. Past its gatehouse and guards, wide corridors lined with portraits of people long dead, stone-tiled floors and elaborate moldings, Taka and Funaki took Haku through a pair of tall doors into a splendid salon the likes of which he'd never seen before.

A soaring space bathed in golden light opened before him, an enormous room topped by a shallow-vaulted plaster ceiling molded with the shapes of crashing waves painted blue and highlighted with gold leaf around oval paintings of family outings and adventures. The walls, in similar fashion, were ornamented with scrollwork and mythical sea-animals circling age-cracked murals of glorious pre-village battles and historical events. A table of astounding size dominated the center of the room with more intimate arrangements of couches, smaller tables and chairs clustered here and there at select spots about the periphery. Haku couldn't help but stare.

Around the great chamber, sitting or standing in small groups chatting were most of the people he'd met before, jonin, daimyo and other luminaries. The more solitary of them sat already at the center table, looking at the artwork or out the windows. Yashako, among these, shot him what he thought was an endearing sort of contemptuous sneer then abruptly left. Captain Ao was there of course but paid him little attention.

A stir swept the room like a wave as Haku entered, owing to his notoriety and that the man of the hour was not dressed for the occasion quite as expected.

His captor, Lord Hirai, held court in a far corner of the salon deep in conversation with a pair of potentates from Water Country he'd introduced Haku to before – Lord Jinsuke and Lady Nimmyo. The Councilor's eyes fell on the boy and what he wore then froze. His expression sparked with irritation but he quickly fought it down and returned to his conversation. The warm feeling of satisfaction that washed over Haku at that moment was reward enough for his effort though it left him wondering where this recalcitrant impulse came from. He'd never been so with Zabuza.

Then it was Haku's turn to be shocked.

No, he thought, shaken. It's impossible.

Sitting by the head of the center table, he saw, was none other than the Councilwoman, Lady Chinami Inoue. It struck him as inconceivable, after all she'd done, that she might simply return to her duties as if nothing had happened. But something was different about her. She seemed smaller somehow, pale and withdrawn, far from the lively, eccentric matriarch she'd been. The old kunoichi looked up at him, drawn at first by the commotion and the extravagance of his dress but then her cloudy gray-green eyes moved to his face and lit with recognition.

"Heaven and Earth," she piped in unbridled amazement, "my young Constable! You were Haku the whole time?"

"Councilor Inoue," the teenager rasped in greeting and bowed. What else could he say?

Inoue's expression melted as she beamed with a flash of her former self. "That's the great thing about the ninja world - it's full of wonder, full of surprises."

In that moment she was much the same as the sweet, confident old lady he'd met just a few weeks ago in his adopted homeland of Wave Country but it was impossible to see her in the same light now. Whatever the merits of her argument that had led her to her decision, her excuses or explanations, this woman had caused horrific destruction, unimaginable misery.

Councilor Inoue spared him further awkwardness by falling quiet, contracting, retreating into her earlier reverie, the forlorn precincts left to expansive, ambitious people defeat had brought to heel. Haku had seen the same thing in poor Zabuza. Pursuing his dream had filled the jonin with a divine fire for a time that had rendered him practically invincible. Deprived of it, he was a man like any other. Inoue's dream had held out the ravages of her advancing age which, with its absence, with her acquiescence had thrown down her walls and lay siege to her temples in a way that was truly heartbreaking no matter what she'd done.

Mei Terumi broke away from her circle of associates and greeted him. "Ah," she piped warmly, "our hero! Good morning, Haku, or is it Lord Aramata?"

It took a moment to drive off his sad reflections and switch gears. "Haku is fine," the teenager offered modestly as he recovered, "and good morning to you, Ms. Terumi. You're much more a hero than I am." He couldn't help but glance back toward Lady Inoue, questions plain in his eyes.

"I know…it's complicated," the kunoichi acknowledged in an understanding tone then abruptly changed the subject. "What a gorgeous kimono," she went on, feeling the fabric and tracing the designs appreciatively with her eyes. Her voice dropped so that only he would hear: "this is your coronation, you know. Hirai already has the votes lined up."

No! Haku's thoughts roared as he tried to contain himself, realizing he'd been blindsided or rather, was about to be. Heat flared along his hairline as a sick, sinking feeling beset him. "Thank you," Haku replied with affected passion, knowing better than to alarm Hirai and his minions. Inside, he was as panicked as a snared rodent. "I was just following your example – wear what's comfortable." And then in a desperate whisper he added, "Please help me."

"The texture is just exquisite, so smooth, and you look absolutely magnificent in it." And, softly, with a reassuring smile: "That's what I thought. Relax, follow my lead."

"Oh, no, please, you're too kind."

Haku busied himself with small talk and perfunctory well-wishing, maintaining the veneer of unconcern all the while trying not to think about the immediate future.

After the better part of an hour, everyone gravitated back to the table eager to start but they were, apparently, one short.

"Can Lord Muso not tell time?" blurted Yashako, predictably irked.

"He tends to keep his own time," Lord Hirai lamented to which Mei added: "Serves us right for scheduling this meeting before noon."

The jonin glanced toward Haku then the rest of the assembly. "You might as well get comfortable everyone, it could be awhile."

As hints went, that one was hard to miss. Haku excused himself, feigning a need to use the restroom.

Taka and Funaki waited to accompany him just outside as he'd expected but the teenager noticed that their expressions were tense. In fact, they looked sick. "What?" he mentioned to them but kept walking, down the hall to the opulent facilities they'd passed on the way in. Strangely, his guards didn't go in with him and instead turned around to wait for him at the door.

Haku entered and found Yashako and Naruto standing there as conspicuously as could be. Naruto startled at the sight of him in his regalia.

"Change into these," Yashako commanded and sent a sack thudding into his chest.

"That wasn't you in the meeting?" said Haku, startled as he started to undress.

"Fuck NO! What do I need to waste my time for? All anyone needs is my vote. I sent a proxy; that should be good enough. And NO, she's not gonna vote for you, snowflake, like Hirai wants."

Pointless curiosity took him. "Who then?"

"I'll take my chances with Terumi. I'm more or less working for her already. At least that woman has a spine."

Naruto gaped, stared at the taller boy in jealous amazement then pointed. "They were really gonna make you Mizukage?"

While Haku traded in his majestic raiment for faded, Water Country cotton homespun – a long-waisted tunic, lose draw-tie pants and a bandanna to hide his hair, Yashako turned the water on at a vanity, created a water-clone in Haku's likeness then pulled out a talisman covered all over with spells to throw off the sensory-types. She stuck it inside the clone's watery flesh before sending it back outside as Haku folded his gift clothes into tight rectangles, put them in the sack along with his rings and slung it over his back.

"Now," his unexpected rescuer continued, "turn into another ninja, anyone you've seen before."

Haku did, again using his transformation jutsu, and found his powers restored. The doctored doppelganger had done its job, drawing Hirai's spells away from him as well. The young ninja nodded, appreciating Mei's slickness.

"Not him," the kunoichi barked after accessing the teenager's new guise, "he's dead."

Haku tried again.

"Not him either, he's just outside. What's wrong with you?"

And again.

"Fine, she'll do."

The disguised Haku shot a look back toward the door and canted his head. "Will your clone really fool Taka and Funaki?"

"I told them it'd better or I'd carve their guts open make 'em watch, still alive, while I ate them." She smiled hideously, eyes flaring with intensity. "That's my Paleo diet – right out of the Triassic!"

Haku paled, swallowed hard. I guess not everything depends on slickness, he thought. Certainly Master Zabuza rarely did. Haku's expression turned puzzled and he held up the sack containing his kimono. "Wait, if I'm going to use the transformation jutsu, why'd you make me change clothes?"

The woman showed her fierce teeth. "Cause you looked stupid. Got any more questions?"

Haku balked and opted for silence. He'd already asked one too many but then one more occurred to him. Apparently, it showed in his face.

"You do, don't you?"

Haku hesitated.

"Ask!"

"What's Naruto doing here?"

"Oh." Yashako looked at the yellow-haired genin as if she'd just discovered him standing there. "Hirai wants to grab him before nightfall, all the rest of your friends too. It's one of his little ways of making you do what he wants. So we send blondie here out now with you and ship everyone else mid-afternoon. 'Makes it simpler for everyone." The woman noted Haku's horrified look and laughed gustily. "Oh, are you surprised? Hirai's a worthless old lying shit! They all are. Haven't you learned that YET, snowflake?! His family might have gotten him his job a hundred years ago but how do you think he kept it? What did you think Zabuza was rebelling against? Heaven and Earth, kid, seriously, what's it take?!" Her callous laughter rang loudly, "Mizukage!"

Naruto looked again at Haku. "They were really gonna make you Mizukage?"

Feeling microscopically small from having been put in his place, Haku followed Yashako and Naruto, also disguised using the transformation jutsu, negotiated a number of security checkpoints within the old palazzo obviously chosen in advance, manned by shinobi who were either in on their escape or so careless that there was little difference. At last they came to a flight of stairs that led to a closed floor marked "Off Limits" which was undergoing renovations. There, they dropped their transformations.

"The alley below is a blind spot in the perimeter," Yashako informed them curtly then pinched the bridge of her nose. "Tell me you can get yourself out of Kirigakure from here."

"Of course," Haku answered in an absent mumble then added out of habit, "um, thank you, Yashako."

The woman leaned toward him as if he'd just thrown the foulest insult into her dark-skinned, tattooed face. "Fuck your thanks. I'd have kicked open Hell's Gate and fought the Devil to keep you from being Mizukage. 'You want to thank me – NEVER come back," she said and turned to Naruto, giving him a nasty leer as well. You either!

Not daring to push his luck this time, Haku only nodded. Yashako turned and marched away, leaving the two young shinobi to their own devices. Both sagged with relief. Just being around the mist-jonin was stressful.

Alone suddenly, Haku wished that he'd gotten the chance to talk to Naruto before now to see how things stood between them. Now that he was here, it didn't seem like the right time or place. The teenager smiled awkwardly, leaving it for later, then tried his strength against a window but the huge, old double-hung was swollen shut. The ninja touched the glass, watched as beads of condensation formed then guided them down into the cracks along the bottom rail using his chakra. When he froze the water, the ice heaved the window loose. The two ninjas pressed it open the rest of the way then dropped down to the street below.

Haku knew from before that the Shingen Aqueduct and the secret passage within it had been destroyed, as had all connections to the surrounding islands, by the armies of Water Country enforcing a quarantine so that escape route was out. That left two others he remembered from his days with Zabzua. Wasting no time, the Demon's Apprentice led Naruto to a dreary but well-kept civil administration building, abandoned now due to all the chaos. The two picked their way through only to find that the tunnel entrance hidden there in a back room had been filled in.

Haku frowned but made straight for the third way out – a disguised way-station from which mist-ninja on missions could be deployed. The last time he'd been through, it had camouflaged boats and various other equipment in its stores. As they drew closer it became obvious that the station had occupied one of the sections of the city excised by Inoue's Nephilim. It, and the blocks around it, were completely gone, leaving only a vast, muddy pit.

Stunned, deflated, Haku dropped his bag, slumped down on the edge of a concrete pad sheltered in part by the nearly-collapsed corner of a ruined building, chewed his lip and looked away. That was it. He was out of options, trapped in Kirigakure. Hirai would not be taken in for long by the water-clone Yashako had substituted, however well doctored, and was sure to mount a search.

"There's another way out, right?" asked Naruto in his gravelly tenor.

Haku's eyes narrowed. He supposed he'd better answer. Naruto would only ask again if he didn't. "Somewhere, maybe," he offered glumly. "Those were the only ones I knew about."

"Oh. Well…we'll just have to keep looking. We can't give up now."

The taller teenager rolled the tip of his tongue along the inside of his cheek, tried and tired by the leaf-ninja's endless optimism.

Naruto started to pace restlessly, tracing random shapes. "I don't get it," he said. "Why are we running away anyway? Yashako said they were gonna make you Mizukage."

Haku sighed, not in the mood to explain, not in the mood to revisit the reasons why. Doubtless, it was probably impossible for Naruto to understand why he would flee what would be for him the grand fulfillment of his life's ambition even though he was sure he'd told him about Lord Hirai and his plans before. And then there was that phrase again.

"I am NOT 'running away'," Haku pointed out tensely. "Being Mizukage is no honor for me; it's the opposite."

"Huh?"

The teenager rested his head in his hands. "Hirai wants me for my weakness, Naruto, not my strength. I'm just strong enough, have done enough that he can tell the Mist Village: 'Relax, everyone, it's going to be okay – Haku the hero's here to protect you and make everything great.' He wants me to be the answer that stops people from thinking about the questions he doesn't want them to think about while he returns everything to the way things were.

"I'm just popular enough now that if he's pleased with my performance he can proudly support me. I'm just unpopular enough and weak enough that if I displease him, he can overthrow me and send me right back to being the fugitive I was…if he doesn't kill me outright. What kind of Mizukage is that? What kind of life is that? I won't do it." He threw up his hands in exasperation. "But now I'm stuck here."

"Haku," began Naruto after a lengthy silence, "I…"

A figure paced toward them then, waved as the two looked toward him. "Hi, guys," said Kiba Inuzuka cheerily as the wolf-eyed boy stepped out into a patch of bright sunlight between battered buildings, "how's the sightseeing?" Akamaru followed with a happy bark then ran up to sniff and greet the two young ninjas.

"Kiba?!" Naruto squawked, patted Akamaru then looked back toward the little puppy's master, "what're you doing here; how'd you find us?"

"The same way I found you before. 'Nothing to it." The genin pointed to his nose. "I AM kinda what they call a 'sensory type'. Tracking people's my thing. My hearing's pretty good too so I overheard Yashako tell Naruto that you guys would be making a break for it and I figured I'd back you up."

Over his initial surprise, Haku hung his head morosely, acknowledging Akamaru's loving attentions but mostly just fending him off. "I appreciate that, Kiba, but –."

Kiba held up his hands. "Problem: solved! Come on…follow me," he piped, brimming with confidence, turned and headed off with a jaunty spring in his step. His ninja-hound raced to overtake him in a white streak.

Haku looked at Naruto, perplexed and annoyed. "Do you suppose we were talking about the same thing?"

Naruto shrugged then both hurried to catch up to Kiba.


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