References to Naruto: Movie One, and I borrowed a line from Evangelion.
The leaves have an acrid taste when he swooshes himself in mid-air, relocating himself with the forceful taps of the dewy soils abrading his skin; the rustles of wood and pebbles and flowers bellow right through his ears, and as the roots' splinters broke he felt it echoing from his legs as if they were tortured, nose to nose with his pursuer. He runs still, feeling no need for respite despite the weary body; an unknown enthusiasm slithers onto his feet, seizing him by the thighs and gripping his arms and he didn't feel the need to breathe. He takes a pause, looking at the far-eyed hills several meters away from him, separated with a wide gap and gave him a foreboding death from the chasm below.
He exhales; he grips a vial of water from his waist, puncturing the glass and the jewels fall slowly towards the ground. The youngster makes a handseal and the miniature orbs of water surge like a lake; it swirls around him before coursing forward, and by then it has turned into an icicle bridge. He runs ahead, secured from the chasm of the valleys; the hunter releases poisoned needles, and the pale teen barely escapes them.
This time the rhythm of his breaths is erratic, almost not breathing at all; his energy reserves have been waning and the taste of any food was three days ago. Who knew of a joy when one escapes at all?
"Traitor!" the youngster hears.
With the absence of energy the icicles have already turned into waters. He walks slowly, assessing a distance, and he releases his own needles.
"What? This prickly metals'll kill me?" the lad hears once again.
Of course, the lad knew that in minute's time his body will become prey to this faceless enemy who never seemed to be exhausted; he can imagine himself writhing on the loamy humidity of the earth, uselessly escaping the menacing taunts and violent hands. He closes his eyes, remembering the convenience of death, the nuisance of rebirth; remembering how easy it was to serve the other and enslave himself – he remembers Zabuza, the flight of his senbon needles against the enemies, the praises, the guilt.
He sees right through it. An emptiness beckons him to rouse himself up, and suddenly a sunbeam glares at him, disoriented; one eye opens, and in the distance he can see the mountains, its peak covered with snow. An arctic height, he thought, and it was where he's supposed to be.
"Zabusa..." he mutters, and a cadenced sound can be heard from behind. He feels the echoes of wood against asphalt; whispers are abrupt, injuring his earshot, and he tastes brackish waters at the corner of his lips, gently it goes but distressing. He opens his eyes once again and he's smiling in spite of the tears.
"He blocked his memories," Ibiki finally says, motioning the blonde Sannin for Haku.
"He doesn't want to remember, Hokage-sama," the investigator continues, and the seal deactivates with silence. "It's too... agonizing."
"D'ya think we can dredge it up in the future?"
"Probably. That depends on him," he responds, gesturing for the chuunin medic-nin and Haku is escorted out of the room. Opposite the doors, Kakashi leans his back against the wall, and he accompanies the missing-nin outside.
"The faceless figure should be from the Sound, Akatsuki cannot involve itself here,"
"...Orochimaru?" the Sannin whispers, and an all-too-familiar anger swept down her mind. "Of course. He's the only one audacious enough to bring him back from the dead,"
"But why?" Ibiki asks.
"That's for us to know,"
"Setting up an investigation? That's impractical Hokage-sama..."
"I know," she says, now outside the room. "We'll let him recuperate, make him know what happened to him... which I find sort of absurd, but it's better than nothing,"
"You'll do flooding?"
"Flooding him with memories'll kill him," she says. "We'll take it slowly. Schedule another interrogation after two weeks."
ARCTIC HEIGHTS
In which Haku Dreams of the Arctic Heights
It was February of the twentieth morning when the Hidden Village of Leaf spread itself around with an attraction to a peculiarity that is Haku; along with a sense of everydayness was an odd magnetism to Haku's bewilderment at the kind of tranquility that protruded his ignorant mind. Townsfolk are more or less unaware of the dangers of Haku's abilities while the Leaf's shinobis, with kekkei genkai as an ultimate standard, are more or less fascinated by Haku's one-handed seals and Hyouton bloodline. More than this was an attraction to the ambivalence of Haku, going beyond the physicality; and Konoha becomes a warm territory.
Although Haku still found it to be unfamiliar, he nevertheless enjoyed the smiles that the merchants're giving him, the way the kids' playful tones invite him to agreeable conversations. Often the kids would be astounded at the knowledge of his fake femininity, but of course, they didn't find it unusual. Leaf's citizens have their own peculiarities; and Haku, who thought that eccentricity assumed a negative connotation, found it all-too-familiar here.
Ibiki's investigation deprived the pale Haku of the morning's welcoming sun, and its afternoon glory started to show itself at the vertical. Kakashi walks beside him, silent, trying to read his book, feigning to look nonchalant. Sooner than he expected, the white-haired scarecrow found it a gradual nuisance to look after the missing-nin, nourish him anew with the routinely manners which Kakashi considered too familiar for their own good. He began to feel the strain; but Kakashi considered this a mission, a successful one at that.
Who knew of a joy when one is not tedium? He closes the book, and Haku swivels his head. "I think a lunch'll be a good idea," he says.
To this Haku smiles, "Of course, but I haven't been given any missions by..." he walks again, "Kakashi-san?"
"Money's not your problem,"
"Yes Kakashi-san... I just wanna express my gratitude."
"No need. A mission after all,"
"But you needn't have to. After all..."
Hatake Kakashi knew what he was going to say; perchance it was the reason for the hesitance and cautiousness. The sharingan man found the sense of distance inexpressible with ostensive words, but the more that he feigned to be nonchalant, the more he feigned to be reading his book, the more he feigned to wholeheartedly reply from Haku's smiles – Kakashi marked it out with the language of bodies. It wasn't that the jounin loathed him, even if Haku attempted to kill him; he was unnerved by him.
"I don't want to feel awkward Haku,"
"I know," he smiles.
Who knew of a joy when one does not smile at all?
"I'm going to find what happened to me. Until then, I'm gonna have to survive," he continues.
"I'll help you then," the jounin replies with a vagueness that Haku threw him an almost quizzical look.
"Yes, thank you, Kakashi-san..." he says, entering the restaurant. Silence has devoured them for celestial moments and neither of them had the clear words to say; unintelligible gesticulations sprung themselves for both's sight. Kakashi sighs, Haku smiles; the silent gestures spoke volumes of questions answerable with uncertainty.
For the next long minutes, the conversation would be dry. As Haku takes a bite of his rice ball, Kakashi would speak of Naruto's journey and Sakura's training, and as Kakashi stares at his food the pale Haku would be mouthing questions about the Leaf and the everydayness thereof. Kakashi will whisper about Sasuke's intent to kill his brother, Haku will have to spread himself around with an ignorance that only Kakashi can erase, inquisitive words that only Kakashi answered. The feminine-looking Haku would chuckle at Kakashi's subtle sarcasm, and time would have to pass to exclude them from missions.
"Tomorrow we'll do a C-rank, ya don't mind?"
"That's a start," Haku replies, raising his arm to take the restaurant's curtain off his shoulder. "You don't... have a cell Kakashi-san?"
"No," was the immediate reply.
"I see..." the other mutters, "I'll have to be your new trainee then?"
"Yeah, most probably,"
They take their strides for the Missions Department. When nighttime darkened Konoha's fields, Kakashi accompanied Haku to his temporary abode, somewhere within the whiteness of the hospital, a storage room that now became a fake apartment; the white sheets and mattress and pillows, the antiseptic smell and a disturbing cleanliness were Haku's friends for the night. The jounin, on the other hand, would have to tell Obito the day's life, understanding anew what Obito meant when he saved the scarecrow.
Few hours pass, and both of them awoke at the humid rustles of the leaves against the cold wind. The fracture between the yellow sun and the black night is visible through their eyes and they began their long hurdles in the air, approaching the border gates; Tsunade surprises them with her presence, and the steam from her coffee can be seen from afar. Three Anbu soldiers surround her, and Haku smiles – the only thing he does at the slightest anxiety.
"Good luck on ye'r first mission," she says next.
"Thank you Hokage-sama, I assure you the mission's success."
Kakashi stretches his arms.
"I don't usually do this welcome thing, but since you're new here I have to," Tsunade says, sipping her coffee. "I hope you'll be your best as Konoha citizen,"
"Yes, Hokage-sama... I thank you for the kindness,"
"I'm giving you a C-rank for now. You can't strain yourself so much for some time."
No sooner did the two shinobis realize that mission ranks can ever get deceiving. Their bingo book designates the Mist missing-nin as a mediocre assassin incapable of performing jounin-level ninjutsus, but Haku found himself useless at the enemy's offenses, that is, water; for the pale youngster also had water as his arsenal, and Kakashi would have to waste his energy deflecting the oceanic waters. The terrains are wet; even their clothes cannot escape the dampness, and the burning sun felt comfortable against their skin. Swirls of haze surrounded their arena of death and the forest feels too cold for a woodland. Beneath Haku's footwear is a thin sheet of ice, extending, a whiteness way beyond his release of energy.
Haku knew that it was his mission, not Kakashi's.
He throws his senbon needles in a rapid succession, and the white-haired scarecrow leaves both of them to attend to more pressing matters; the politics of the villages, the power struggles. Haku knew that Kakashi's place is supposed to be in Mist's Records Department; the feminine-looking lad knew that the scarecrow had to testify to his death. It seemed ironic for him, for he knew death almost three years ago; and yet here he was, alive, dodging the fuumashuriken as it strikes the woods deadly, leaving them cut.
Beads of water amass themselves, afloat in his palm. The enemy surrounds himself with a miasma and deprived Haku of eyesight; throwing the sphere of water at the earth he performs a one-handed seal with his other hand. The water element fuses with wind, and another sheet of ice began to lengthen, painting the forest's soils ashen. Another fuumashuriken from nowhere and he hurls himself in the air.
He knew that the mission was to prove himself.
His weight crashes with the ice and it makes a splintering sound, his eyes narrowed at the thought of the expectations, and that a failed mission would prove his existence meaningless. He suddenly remembers Zabuza, and the test of life he's gone through; it echoed a similarity, but he felt a difference that only the Hidden Village of Leaf can provide. There was something resembling an attraction, the odd magnetism of everydayness.
Three large shurikens ran their course in random directions like a bullet. He makes a handseal, controlling his chakra. Hyouton Hyourou no Jutsu.
His palm grazes the ice; a hiss from the grounds and pillars of translucent ice launches upward, swathing Haku. Behind him one fuumashuriken collides against the immaculate ice and it incises only centimeters, jamming and divesting it motility. The second fuumashuriken disentangles in the air and become four slanted blades soaring at the corner of his left eye; the wedges thunders against the ice, while the third fuumashuriken hurls vehemently to his front. He inhales a misty air, releasing his energy; another column of ice shoots from the ground, catching the weapon. It gleamed against the sunlight and even the enemy can see it with a shining pallidness.
Yes, Haku thought, the desire for a normal life did not wane, it is ablaze at the slightest idea of living anew; nothing can so pierce the soul with the uttermost sigh of rebirth.
A multitude of pilasters of ice suddenly surge for the enemy, and Haku thinks it owes from the excitement that he will be a person of everydayness; the icicles runs vigorously for the enemy and he leaps from the ground, shooting streams of water with his own handseals and it breaks the ice. An icicle catches his foot, and the enemy pretends to be caught as the water bunshin sends a downpour. A stream of fierce water pierces through his shield, ducking in time; Haku's left eye sees through the hole.
He knew this mission was a step for a life he longed since Zabuza's demise.
He makes another handseal, controlling his wind element; he stands up, and the icicles shatter – ice against metal, and their sound against the earth splinters through his ears. He blows a puff of air, and it turns into violent whirls. Fuuton Daitopa.
A blast of wind rushes itself for the enemy and he fights the force, trying to unite with the earth. Haku was already running for him however, and with the gust supplementing such a force, the senbon needles had more than enough strength to fly and the enemy did not even notice them striking his neck, stinging him to paralysis. He walks towards the motionless enemy; Haku knew of human anatomy more than the enemy did.
"I'm sorry... but your head means my new life," he apologizes, and with the reflex of his right hand, an icy wedge launches itself upward, knifing the assassin's heart. It paints the cold and pastel forest with thick redness.
By the time Kakashi finished his testament to Mist, and by the time they were back at Konoha spending the night with Haku's first payment in a restaurant, Haku can only smile ever so genuinely. He eats with an excitement only Kakashi can decipher – the desire to live again; and so he, too, celebrates with Haku. As the pale youngster sleeps, the hospital becomes odorless and colorful; Haku can see himself standing at the summit of the mountains he dreamed about. It's snowing and the winds are too cold for his cheeks while the sunlight grabs him, and he becomes ecstatic at the sight of the green fields below him. The arctic height, he thought, and it was where he's supposed to be.
tbc.