Haku basks in the arctic heights, reveling in the coldness and solitude, and his legs are more than willing to tread the pathless summit of the mountain. Only his bluish clothes were nuanced enough for him to be distinguished against the blankness that is the snowy plains; winds eddy around him, and the verdant fields are out of sight. Still, his smile is warm; his right foot takes a leisurely step forward, and he can hear his weight against the snow. The arctic heights have deprived him of sunlight but he's carrying on, knowing all-too-well that after the dream, he shan't despise himself anymore.
He closes his eyes in time to feel the winds caressing his cheeks and they felt warm, like a hand tracing the outlines of his brown locks to tuck them in his ears. A gesture of comfort in the backdrop of a snowy storm, and he almost felt it wasn't a dream at all; after all, the arctic heights for him are the reasons and motivations when his mind can no longer cope to the uncertainties of the world. Who knew of a joy when one doesn't know at all?
"Haku..." he hears a whisper.
The pale Haku set his eyes anew at Zabuza. Two kunais are lodged on his right elbow and dry blood can be seen from his shirt; his bandaged mouth move in a long-winded motion, bloodied, and the Mist swordsman's eyes are too sincere that Haku almost felt betrayed by this man before him. Even in afterlife, he haunted Haku at the slightest presence of anxiety; his sword is flung at his back, and when Zabuza makes a step it makes a metallic echo.
"Haku..." Zabuza whispers again, and his eyes're more than willing to set its sight on the pale youngster. "Have you forgotten me Haku?"
The other does not respond and succumbs to the convenience of silence.
"Have you forgotten Haku?"
Zabuza shuts his eyes while Haku throws him a saddened look, empathizing at his lack of opportunity to live an everydayness that the pale youngster loved more than killing an enemy. It wasn't jealousy, Haku muses; yet the memory of him meant more than just a figment of imagination for the both of them. "I do not, Zabuza-san," he finally says.
"And what shall you do?"
"Complete the mission."
His mentor makes another step towards him while Haku's left foot strides backward; Zabuza's right arm suddenly bleeds with a profusion that stings Haku's eyes with a sense of anxiety, and the swordsman's bandages start to loosen as the winds turn crueler only for him. The cloth binding flies with the cold air. Zabuza was dead, and yet his jagged teeth mouthed whispers deafening him like he's alive. Zabuza walks forward, towards the anxious language of Haku's body, the latter hesitant and obliging at the same time.
"You don't have any more missions to complete Haku..."
"Zabuza-san..."
"You don't have any more missions to complete,"
"I... I'm living again, Zabuza-san,"
"No more missions Haku," the other says, coughing blood, "You have to rest now,"
Haku wakes up at the puff of smoke outside the disinfectant-smelling room, and he can sense Hatake Kakashi's presence, more than appreciative of his measly aura; and the pale lad rubs his temple with a trembling hand. More than the subconscious gratitude was the realization that the white-haired scarecrow had no obligation to appear by the doorway, for surely Haku is not foolish enough to be too ignorant at the everydayness of Konoha. It was February of the twenty-second morning when Haku spread himself around the croaking mattress, along with a sense of pessimism that nightmares bring – death, blood and uncertainties.
ARCTIC HEIGHTS
In which He Learns to Survive in an Unfamiliar Territory
On the verge of frustration at the weight that Yamanaka Ino is carrying, she managed to lay the wooden box near the lush pots of their clan's flower shop; and looking at the flowers showing off the vibrancy of their colors, she sighs in relief. Searching for a handkerchief she wiped the welling sweat on her cheeks, more than knowing how it shan't be good indication of beauty, or something resembling an attraction. The sun has only risen and yet it felt like an afternoon for her.
"Sheesh dad... making a lady carry this," and several petals jazz against the wind, fluttering away. "Let's do this or the flowers'll die."
At the other side of the pathway, there went Haku and Kakashi strolling like tourists as the former's hand carries a scroll which assigned them an A-rank tomorrow; the friendliness of the sun today is a precious gem and Tsunade suggested him to explore the warmth and optimism that is the Hidden Village of Leaf. The central territory of Konoha is peopled with civilians and patrolling shinobis, making their ways and minding their own businesses, and yet their gestures meant more than routinely existence for Haku.
Who knew of a joy in everydayness?
"Kakashi-sensei!" the blonde shouts, waving her arm.
"Yamanaka Ino," he replies. "No mission today?"
"Business as usual... uhm," she stutters, staring next at the smiling peculiarity called Haku.
"Shiro Haku," he bows down for introductions, and Kakashi's visible eye makes a lighthearted gaze at Ino. "He's my... learner," the jounin speaks.
"I see..." the other says, her tone positively somewhere. "Nice meeting you."
"I'm trying to acquaint myself with the village, I hope you don't mind,"
"Not at all Haku-san,"
He smiles. "Haku is fine, Ino-kun, it reminds me how old I am,"
Kakashi makes a grimacing smile. "He doesn't want to get older."
"Others here want to," Ino chuckles, "Team Rookie wants to get to jounin so early,"
"Team Rookie?" Haku questions, gazing at the flowers.
"Kakashi-sensei, you're a bad tourist-guide,"
"Yeah yeah," he scratches the back of his head, "Where're the others?"
"Training and whatnot. Missions or whatever. They don't want to pay attention to themselves, I mean," she takes a look at herself by the panes of the shop's window, "Some rest, y'know?"
"Hey Haku..." she continues, "there's a good spa here, your hair can do some rest, too, then maybe I'll accompany you next time, y'know, girly stuff," she giggled.
"I'll note that," the other said, now trailing the leaving white-haired scarecrow. "Oh, Ino-kun..." he says, stopping in time to swivel his head. "I'm... I'm not a girl," he follows Kakashi next, leaving the dumbfounded Yamanaka Ino.
At the other pavement outside the Yamanaka flower shop, the sharingan man and the pale youngster walked in a long fall of silence, and yet it spoke volumes of subtle laughs and comfort. They meander around Konoha again, and Haku regresses himself as a blank slate waiting for a roguish but experienced man to write knowledge anew, and it gives him a sense of novelty. The faceless crowd turns into colorful masks, inviting him; attaching himself at the optimism that Konoha spread around with.
"This," Kakashi finally says, "is the academy. Y'may wanna teach someday yeah?"
"Yes I would," he says.
"A genius like you should be teaching others to be genius too," the scarecrow whispers, "I taught Anbu some years ago,"
"Like..." he trailed his words off, remembering Zabuza. "Was it nice to teach?"
"Sometimes," he opens up, "Sometimes y'want to take their heads off,"
"Zabuza-san was so strict," he finally mutters between faltering breaths, "But I guess it's a good thing, I've been a good ninja,"
Kakashi stares at his right hand, opening and closing it and verifying its existence; he harks back at these fingers against Haku's heart almost three years ago. "Yes y'were."
Haku smiles, the only thing he does at the slightest anxiety.
"Most chuunins teach. Jounins're on better missions. Technically you don't have a rank, but you're almost jounin-level," he says. "Y'cant enter the exams, but you'll accompany me with missions,"
"Understood, Kaka– how should I address ya?"
"Whatever y'want," he replies, and they walk. Kakashi gave the pale youngster a seeming smile against his clothed lips, quivering something unknown to him. He soon realizes they were inside the academy, and the wooden floors resounding against their feet indicated its old age. Konoha was much bigger than he thought, for even the academy felt like a vast ocean for Haku – unexplored, waiting to be noticed. Kakashi dragged themselves into Iruka's room, handing him a scroll for the scarred chuunin to read.
"Hokage's order," Iruka whispers, committing into memory the words painted on the scroll. He smiles next, "You're Shiro Haku yes?"
"Yes sir,"
"Umino Iruka, call me by my first name, after all you've been promoted already."
He tucks his brown locks in his ear. "Promoted?"
"You're a special jounin now," the chuunin replied, showing the pale youngster the scroll. "I wish y'the best,"
"Thank you Iruka-san..."
"Well," Kakashi interrupts, "We got something. Please pass it to the Records."
And off they went to more unexplored oceans that are the territories of Konoha. The almost-tattered training grounds of Konoha's northwestern region is owed from Hyuuga Hinata and Inuzuka Kiba's training, and the sharingan man almost took a sidestep when Akamaru's bark echoed rowdiness towards him, seemingly warning Haku like someone unknown. The sun was beginning to be inhospitable with its hot sunlight but Team Eight didn't even notice; sweat mingled with the gyrations of the bodies, the barks of the familiar, and Shino's kikai bugs buzzing from somewhere become judges to Hinata and Kiba's pseudo-skirmish.
Kakashi leans at a log, and Haku smiles, firm against the grassy plains and staring onto the fight. He can observe the destruction bugs, with high-pitched buzzes, taking intent looks at him; and it figures, Haku muses, since he's only started to learn surviving at an unfamiliar territory that is the Hidden Village of Leaf. Kiba merges with his familiar for a cyclonic offense, and Hinata twirls her body in fastness and chakra soon envelopes her. To protect yourself from dangers; what joy such a ninjutsu would bring?
"Team Eight," Kakashi sighs, "And this's where most trainings're. They're part of Team Rookie,"
"There's more?"
"Team Rookie's the nickname for the genins some time ago,"
"That includes Naruto-kun of course?"
He leans his back again, resting his weight. "Yes. Genins who're advanced unlike previous ones, all fighting each other to be chuunin,"
"Who won?"
A kikai bug flies closer at him, and Haku stares at it; he smiles, and the bug swerves away. Why was his new instructor making him take such a picturesque view of the fight? After all, they could've trained themselves and measure the drawbacks of his Hyouton bloodline, or they could spend the time exploring more of Konoha's oceans. It would soon dawn upon him however, that it was a test of life which Haku should accomplish way beyond what Team Eight is doing right now; he knew it is negatively derivative, but it nevertheless gives his life a purpose.
"Nara Shikamaru, shadow genius," he hears Kakashi reply.
"He must be the strongest,"
Kakashi stands firm on the ground next. "He's not. He's the brightest. Team Eight is an underdog," he stares at Haku, "but they're much organized... unlike mine,"
"You needn't say that, Kakashi-san," he empathizes, remembering how Kakashi's team softly said goodbye. "I'll be what y'want me to be, Kakashi-san..." he assures him next, and he thought he spoke those words to someone all-too-familiar for him before.
"I'll be strong,"
To this Kakashi can only muster a sigh. "An unnecessary risk for you, Haku," for Hatake Kakashi was well aware of Haku's dangerous altruism. He didn't want him to die – again.
"I promise it won't be."
After the strenuous fakeness of a fight, Team Eight introduces themselves as a reconnaissance team and Haku became Kiba's rival as soon as the Inuzuka found out his bloodline; Hinata seemed silent, but the new special jounin found her assertiveness within her, as she's assessing him with a meticulous and mysterious set of eyes. Aburame Shino stood with more than enough silence to make Haku remember the dangers of his abilities, and his seemingly sightless eyes evoke no emotion as Haku smiles at them. The desire to be stronger is ablaze by Hatake Kakashi's presence, albeit unlike Zabuza who never seemed to emanate a sense of warmth. The introductions end and he meets Haruno Sakura, yet again; he smiled as she became flabbergasted - she talked slowly and Haku spoke with courteousness.
It was two hours after lunch and they were now at the central area; in Ichiraku Ramen House, and Ayame can be seen with a surprised face at the knowledge of Haku's fake femininity, remembering how she complimented the pale youngster's beauty coupled with the jounin's percolating masculinity. The old man had to succumb into an embarrassed silence; Kakashi can only make stuttered laughs while Haku's pale cheeks turn too pink to be unnoticed. "I'm really sorry," Ayame bows down again, self-conscious as ever.
"It's okay," Kakashi replies. He stares next at the nodding Haku.
Few more minutes pass. Down by the seats, Kakashi can only stare frustratingly at his food; but more than this triviality was a sense of indecipherable obligation to erase the trace of fatalism within Haku. Perhaps from the fact he was the one who killed him; he cannot tell. The pale Haku emanated a beauty which haunts people into hidden bliss, and yet within him is a welling sadness that looms death with the slightest touch. Uchiha Sasuke bears a resemblance, but the beauty and warmth that Haku's eyes're giving are more than enough to set a difference. Haku felt like an unfamiliar territory, and the white-haired scarecrow has yet to learn surviving from Haku's presence.
Kakashi gazes at the new special jounin sipping his tea, and the other turns his head to stare at the all-too-dutiful Hatake Kakashi, smiling. And deciding on a resolve, the white-haired scarecrow lightly scratches his throat; he removes his mask, smiling, and drinks his own tea.
tbc.