The former first chapter, the one featuring exposition on Zabuza's past, has been removed for the purpose of hastening the story.

It picks up from here, the shovel-wielding young man readying himself to influence the first Divergence in this world.

Somewhere in the land of waves, on a hilltop covered with flowers, stood a young man. It was early morning, and many of the plants on that field were best picked in the first hours daylight. The area was distant from the nearby inhabited village, quiet and serene. However, its destiny was to be ruined as a sight of battle.

The young man, his garb scarcely changed over the many years, stood on the edge of the clearing, looking into the distance. As it did before, his shovel rested in his hand, the number of seals on its handle having jumped from six to nine. He had long given up on his dream to open up a ramen stand in Iwa, for the woman he intended to marry had already been taken. The idle fantasy he named as his dream these days was to write down his considerable knowledge of fuinjutsu and publish it throughout the ninja nations, all with the goal of bettering lives of Shinobi everywhere.

In seven minutes and forty seven seconds, as indicated by the scroll, with which he couldn't part after all, his target would arrive to the field, intending to gather up herbs for concocting medicines and poisons from the Mizu school. He was a survivor of the exterminations, a down-and-out kid with nothing to live for. Nothing except the man who took him in.

Ever since he saw his name in the scroll the old man left him, the young man followed the actions of the demon of the mist, up until his attempt of a coup collapsed four years ago. Many died that day, and many more would if the flow of time had not been corrected. The man who had once slaughtered a hundred of his peers was to be saved, and it all started with the young boy who would be arriving in four minutes and twenty three seconds.

While he didn't really want to fight the kid, the scroll said that it is necessary, and indicated that the boy relies on speed, accuracy with senbon, and his kekkei genkai. It would be an easy fight. The kid might be good, but the young man believed that he was easily jonin level by now. Officially, he was a dead genin. It was funny now that you think about it. A dead ninja will be fighting against a ninja who isn't really a ninja. For all its seriousness, the shinobi life sometimes had its comical moments.

Way off, barely visible, the boy slowly came to view, dressed in a wide reddish kimono. In his hand was a basket, not deep enough to store anything more than herbs. He walked with a subdued but sure step, looking as if he was nothing more than a common village boy out to gather herbs for the apothecary. That alone was a telling sign of his training as a ninja.

Haku wasn't expecting anything extraordinary to happen that morning. He got into his civilian clothes, took his basket, and went for a herb-rich hill that he spied a few days beforehand. Zabuza would be busy with other affairs, the most pressing of which was finding out which route the bridge builder would be taking on his way back to his village. Although he didn't look the part, the demon of the mist was very skilled at intelligence gathering, even when working alone.

No matter how many times he would offer to help, the same words would always be waiting as the response: "No Haku, it's much more important for you to keep honing your abilities." And they would always leave it at that. He did not want to go against Zabuza's wishes, for that would be going against his own purpose; being an instrument of his will.

The morning was chilly, but would soon become pleasantly warm. Although they were a ways off the coast, the salty air of the sea of waves made its way to the clearing. The hill was covered in colorful flowers, colors vibrant in the early sun. Were this not such a dangerous territory, Haku had no doubt this very clearing would be the site of many children's games. He had only begun playing his games when his childhood came to an early end. A part of him would always regret that, but he couldn't have known. He never knew that his unusual talent was so hated and feared. When he did find out, it was too late.

He shook his head. This was a field of flowers, no place to remember such dark memories. It's better now, he is at Zabuza's side, and soon they would have the money required to go back to the Land of Water. It was only a matter of time until they would go back and...kill. Yes, they would go back to the Village hidden in the Mist and they would kill its Mizukage. He interrupted himself once he realized that the train of thought was not really any more fitting to the flowery field than the former one.

He smiled, taking his first step onto the hilltop colored by flowers.

The robed ninja smirked, a giddy eagerness washing over him. Something about the boy told him that the battle would be interesting. Even after all these years, he could not decide exactly what that feeling was. He considered just leaping out and attacking, but that would not be the most effective way to engage, considering his goal. Instead, he simply walked towards the boy.

He was going into this underequipped, with both a weapon and ninjutsu disadvantage. The boy had senbon and access to Ice Style jutsu. He had a shovel. And years of experience as a mercenary, but that wasn't really going to help him. Ice operated completely different than the elements it was derived from. It had the cutting power of air, the flexibility and speed of water, as well as a reflective quality that the main branch of the Yuki was known to abuse against Lightning and Gale Style users.

He didn't care, save for a few choice jutsu, his style was earth through and through. The boy wasn't half bad, noticing him the instant he left his cover. However, his decision not to react to a randomly approaching stranger was intriguing to the young man. Maybe he intended to lure him into a trap?

As he approached, he didn't bother concealing the shovel in his hand, only making a motion to raise the brim of his hat. Underneath, he already had a friendly expression on. The boy reacted to his presence when he was only half a dozen steps away.

"Oh?" The boy raised his eyes, looking up at the approaching stranger. He did not appear dangerous at first glance, but his timing and body language spoke of ulterior motives. Still, he could not act until he knew exactly why the man had approached him. "Why hello there." The stranger looked disappointed.

"Is there anything wrong?" He asked, regretting that he brought only two cartridges of senbon. If the danger he's sensing is real, the supply wouldn't last in a prolonged battle. What's worse, nothing about the potential foe told him anything about his abilities. The shovel in particular served only to confuse him.

"Oh, nothing really, I was just going to ask you to tell me where Zabuza Momochi is." The reaction was immediate. The underside of the flower in the boy's hand glistened with a metallic shine, and the blade of the shovel was just on time to intercept what would be a hit to the bottom of the left lung by a senbon. Debilitating for sure, but not lethal. He'd feel breathless long enough for the boy to either kill him, or withdraw, depending on his preference.

The Yuki child leapt backwards, completely abandoning the basket, getting another half dozen steps of distance between them. His eyes were focused and clear, almost a complete opposite of the dreamy gaze he wore while acting as a civilian. He had to admit, the kid was a gem in the rough. And he was quick.

Cracking his neck and shoulders, the man smiled, fingers dancing across the blade of his shovel. He had to bust up the kid, throw around some moves that could realistically threaten the demon of the mist, and then somehow disengage. It was a simple task, but the execution was going to be anything but.

"You know, the bounty is just on the demon, but I think that the village would be thrilled if I brought a Yuki as well. You certainly look the part, girlish beauty and all." He threw himself to the side to dodge the barrage of senbon thrown towards him. It was a waste of ammo, but the kid really didn't have anything else to retaliate with. Right now, the fight was completely neutral.

"Nice shot kid. But let me show you what a real attack looks like." And with that, he dashed to the left, sending a couple of shuriken towards the young shinobi. They didn't really hit their mark, deflected by the use of a particularly large senbon. If he recalled the tool correctly, needles that large were used against armor wearing opponents, or as substitutes when basic kunai weren't available.

Haku wasted no time in dashing into his opponent's path, aiming to knock him off his feet with a swift kick. The attack landed square on the surface of the shovel blade, now half-embedded in the earth, knocking it back a bit. The man seemed amused if anything.

"Yeah, I think I like your style. But where do the cool Ice jutsu come in?" With that said, he spun around in an attempt to connect with a vicious backhanded slap. For a moment, Haku considered using the opening to stick a needle into his arm, but his aim wouldn't be sure, and the blow wouldn't be cushioned in the least. In the end, he decided to duck low and try the exposed legs again.

A shadow of surprise came across the mysterious ninja's face, as he leapt up to avoid the attack, landing on the opposite side of the shovel once more. Although unorthodox, the weapon was proving to be more effective than Haku expected it to be. Its owner kept smirking. "Tsk, tsk. What a troublesome child. At least indulge me with some friendly life-or-death banter."

"I have nothing to say to you. You will not reach Zabuza." The boy spoke with a surprisingly firm voice, right before dashing away with almost untraceable speed. In moments, he was across the clearing, dashing towards the nearby ponds. Defeating this enemy would require using jutsu, and Zabuza taught him never to waste chakra creating water if he can find some nearby. The strange shinobi, on the other hand, had other ideas, his arms working through thirteen hand signs. Thirteen was his personal record, and he didn't intend on attempting to break it today.

"Water Style: Water Dragon Bullet."

From his mouth gushed an obscene amount of water, taking a form of a dragon. The watery beast made a motion to mimic a roar while it stabilized itself, then began rushing towards the withdrawing shinobi.

In the hands of a water user, the dragon is near-instant. Although shortening the number of seals makes it come out faster, it shaves off power. Even someone as skilled as the second Hokage needed to work through the forty-something seals to fire off his strongest dragon. That particular beast was used only once, to very devastating effect.

Haku leapt up, letting the dragon home in on him. It wasn't his first time facing this jutsu, and all the elemental dragons behaved in a similar manner. As he descended, he immediately bolted back towards his increasingly troublesome foe, letting the dragon disperse without hitting anything. As he ran, the young shinobi made a couple of hand signs, and the water began to follow him in spurts and spirals.

Across the clearing, the man smirked once more. This battle was entertaining. Not really dangerous, but not a complete walkover either. The kid had potential, and that was hard fact. However, the mission is yet to be complete, so maybe it was time to see just how good the kid is...

"Water Style: Water Serpent Bullet."

The lesser version of the destructive bullet technique formed in the water, staying on top the wave for a few moments before shooting forward like an arrow. It aimed to crush the strange man, ending his existence and threat to Zabuza. However, the man was no pushover, already slamming his hands into the ground.

"Earth Style: Mud Wall." And on command, a large chunk of earth rose from the ground, almost completely absorbing the lesser water jutsu. However, a surprise followed in the form of several senbon sticking out of the wrong side of the protective wall. Apparently, the kid used the jutsu as a means to get his needles through the defense. He had to admit it was a decent idea.

He jumped up onto the large glob of mud, the defensive chakra preventing him from sinking into the mess. After deflecting another barrage of needles, he found himself staring the young boy down. He was fighting better than shinobi his age could. Not even specialized training made someone this persistent.

"You know you're outmatched, boy. Why do you keep fighting?"

Haku's eyes narrowed at the question, the response itching to jump out. He indulged it, getting in stance to prepare one of his unique techniques. "I fight for Zabuza. He is the one who saved me when I lost everything. Were it not for him, I would be nothing. Now I have purpose."

'Lost everything...purpose... That's something like the old man did for me, wasn't it?' Wondered the young man. He gave him a goal to work towards, a shovel to fight with, and a jutsu to keep his body vital and young while his mind aged at an increased pace. His greatest concern was that it would kill him before he got everything done from the old man's list, and before he could publish his book.

But it was interesting. The kid had an old man in Zabuza, the same way he did with the actual old man. Yes, it was definitely interesting, something he never came across for these years. He needed to ask him more, to understand why. Maybe then he would be able to understand why he's still doing this, why he didn't throw away the scroll years ago.

"Your purpose? But what will happen when I kill him? What will you do with yourself then?" He asked seriously, jumping down from the wall. The boy seemed to hesitate before sending another barrage of needles, as easily deflected as the first. "Tell me boy, what will you do then?"

Haku made a few one-handed seals, then drove the other hand into the puddle that was once a water dragon and a whirling wave. The water immediately rushed forward, creeping all the way up to the man's feet.

"Ice Style: Thousand Needle Creeping."

Almost instantly the water began freezing over, sharp spikes violently bursting from the icy stream. As if guided by an invisible force, the numerous ice needles raced towards the shovel-wielding shinobi, most lodging themselves into the wall he once more used as cover. But as the ice reached the wall, it stopped giving off more needles, the jutsu fizzling out. The man made a hand seal.

"Come on kid, you're telling me that you've been out and about training with Zabuza Momochi all these years, and this is the best you can do?"

Just as he said that, the mud wall collapsed, revealing a massive block of ice, frozen needles blossoming from the surface. With a crack, dozens of sharp ice needles shot at the man, intent on turning him into ribbons. He spun away, but only quickly enough to avoid the brunt of the attack. Quite the number of needles found themselves lodged in his side and back, his old cloak once again turned into tatters. He hated when people messed up his cloak.

"He chose to use me as his tool because of this power that is in my blood. I will say this once more," Spoke Haku as he maneuvered into position at what was now the man's blind spot, "You will not reach Zabuza."

"We'll see about that!" Yelled the man as he turned around, shovel swinging in his outstretched hand. If Haku had gone straight in, he'd take a nasty bonk to the head. Instead, he threw the last barrage of senbon he had, all the while working his single-hand hand signs. "Ice Style: Frozen Lake." On cue, the soaked ground began spreading, then icing over, creating what was effectively a large ice rink. After this, there was only one technique left to finish this difficult foe once and for all.

"Alright kid, you did good. But it's time to stop messing around. I have a job to do. Earth Style: Earth Flow Spears!" And he slammed his hands to the now frozen ground, pushing chakra into the rocky subsurface of the earth. After a few moments, you could feel a faint rumble. Spikes began shooting up from the ground, popping up all around the already ruined field. There were dozens, maybe a hundred earth spears, and not one managed to nick the kid. Good, he wanted to do that part himself.

With a dash, the man appeared at Haku's side, taking a swing at his head with his unorthodox weapon. The younger shinobi dodged, only to be hit with a strong frontal kick. The figure that had swung the shovel now faded away, revealing itself to be little more than a simple clone. Before the boy could retaliate, however, the older shinobi was already trying another attack, the blade of the shovel burying itself into the ground where only moments earlier lied the boy's head.

"Oh stand still, would you?" Taunted the man, feinting a kick. Due to the obvious telegraphing of the move, Haku had ample time to get out of the way, only to be hit by one of the follow-up shuriken. He brought his hand to his now flaring cheekbone, feeling the warm blood trickling. It wasn't a deep gash, but it was visible. Next time he probably wouldn't be that lucky.

The man once again dashed forward, intent on bludgeoning him to death with the crude weapon. Haku dodged easily, his reflexes and speed enough to completely avoid such a linear series of attacks. What worried him was the follow-up trick that was inevitably following. After hopping over a low attack, Haku was faced with an incoming fist. Instead of blocking or avoiding, however, he captured the opponent's hand.

"Now."

Controlling the pressure points on the man's hand, Haku formed the necessary hand signs for his most lethal technique. "Ice Style: Demonic Crystal Ice Mirrors."

The man expected this, although he didn't let that show. Now the only thing that was left was to escape without killing the kid. That should be easy enough...Right? But when the array of mirrors rose up from thin air, and when Haku's tired image appeared in every single one, holding his last remaining, oversized senbon, even he had the presence of mind to feel intimidated. Still, he immediately swung for the nearest mirror.

"Please withdraw, I do not wish to end your life." Spoke the boy, appearing in the man's blind spot, swiftly stabbing the senbon into his left shoulder, making the entire arm go numb. Just as quickly, he disappeared, once again an image in the mirrors.

"Withdraw, eh? Not an option I'm afraid." And so the man tried again, his strikes doing nothing but merely denting the crystallized ice. Every strike was an opening, and Haku used the openings, eventually managing to disable the man's other arm as well. The strange man bent down to pick up his shovel with his mouth.

"Just give up. Next time I won't hesitate to end your life."

The man said nothing, driving a kick into one of the mirrors. As expected, nothing happened, and Haku leapt to the spot right behind him. He truly regretted what he was about to do, but it was to protect Zabuza, and for him he would be the shinobi that can carry out the swordsman's will. Free of hesitation, the young shinobi jammed the senbon into the back of the man's neck.

The man yelped in pain, only to turn into stone and crumble. Haku's eyes widened in realization; it was a rock clone. The real one would then be...

"Earth Style: Earth Dragon Bullet." The mud dragon roared, crashing into the mirrors, covering the little gaps the technique left. What was a dazzling array of crystalline mirrors was now little more than a muddy dome.

The man smirked. His mission was complete. He pushed the child to his limits, and managed to get a visible hit in on him. That was what the scroll had required, and that was now done. Although a part of him didn't think the kid could use such an effective technique, years of experience told him that it was a good idea to swap out with a rock clone while he was obscured by the mud wall, and then promptly retreat while the boy was busy with his ice jutsu. Although he was glad that his rock clones only broke on fatal wounds, holding them together through the minor bumps was a massive drain of chakra, and he was left feeling exhausted.

With a satisfied sigh, the man withdrew from the ravaged field, disappearing into the ground.

His foe was a clone all along? What kind of shinobi can sustain a solid clone for so long? It was almost as unlikely as using dozens of clones at once. The chrakra reserves required were simply absurd. Knowing that such a man was after Zabuza was worrying. He fought him off this time, but the man surely had more tricks up his sleeve; he was just testing the water with this confrontation.

Haku dashed back towards the safe house, praying that Zabuza had not been attacked in the mean time by a possible accomplice of the shovel-wielding bounty hunter. He was strong, but so was his opponent. Haku had no illusions when it came to Zabuza. He was strong, but stronger shinobi did exist.

He reached the safe house, half his face covered in blood, his kimono roughed up and dirty, and his supply of senbon thoroughly emptied. Zabuza was seated at the balcony, looking over towards the sea. So the bounty hunter didn't have an accomplice. That was good.

"Zabuza, you're alright!" Haku let out, the fatigue only now catching up to him. He looked terrible, felt only slightly better than he looked, but he was glad, glad that he had managed to fight off the man who threatened Zabuza. The swordsman looked at him with a mildly amused look.

"Got in a scuffle over a pretty flower?" He asked, his voice even an clear, no hint of mockery to it. He wondered what could have happened to the boy to have him look like this. Most likely a hostile ninja.

"A strange ninja inquired about your whereabouts Zabuza. I fought him off, but he did manage to get away." Admitted Haku, slightly disappointed with the fact that his foe had gotten away. In his desire to protect Zabuza, he had forgotten to attempt and find out who had sent the man after the swordsman.

"Alright, tell me about your battle."

After an hour, in which Haku not only told the entirety of his story, but managed to get cleaned up and changed as well, the two mist assassins sat on the balcony of their safe house, different kinds of frown on each of their faces. Zabuza was worried about the man's apparent knowledge about them. He asked Haku about his reason for fighting, which no other enemy bothered to ask. That alone meant that this mysterious foe knew a lot more than any of the ones that came before him. Haku, on the other hand, couldn't let go of the fact that he had failed to get information on the man's motives. He was trained better than that, and regretted failing Zabuza the way he did.

"Your cheek. He had managed to cut you." Mentioned the swordsman offhandedly, as if the feat the shovel-wielding bounty hunter had accomplished was nothing more than a common occurrence. No one managed to hit Haku, he was too fast. He was trained not to get hit.

Reflexively, the boy's fingers went up to the fresh wound once more. It was another failure, another sign that he isn't yet the shinobi he needs to be in order to be worthy of standing at the demon's side. He needed to get stronger, quicker, less merciful. 'There is no place for mercy on the battlefield' was one of the swordsman's more common sayings.

"I am sorry Zabuza. I was too weak to protect you."

The swordsman sighed, standing up to start wrapping the bandages he always wore around his mouth whenever he went out to fight or gather information. He wondered what would happen if Haku had died that day. No matter how much he wanted to deny it, he had grown attached to the boy who was willing to be the ultimate tool for his use. Losing him would be a major blow to Zabuza's progress in returning to the mist.

However, with this caliber of foe being sent after him this soon, injury was a very real possibility. He needed to find a particular kunoichi, and he had an idea of where she would be.

Was the fight any good? Hope you enjoyed the chapter!