Welcome back! Enjoy the new chapter!

Warning: Mild inappropriate content, PTSD, Haku hating himself the poor thing

Chapter 7: Sweet

The air smelled sweet. He didn't know it at first, what had really bothered him, because the air smelling sweet shouldn't have brought that feeling of helplessness which he was used to as soon as dark, damp earthy scents surrounded him. But, the hazy visuals immediately had dread pooling in his very core, in his soul.

It was a familiar interior. A four story house in the city, made out of sturdy cedar, with a hint of that natural smell, like deep forest and a citrusy undertone, which could still be felt underneath all the sweet smoke and perfume. Sheer, solid-colored drapes hung all over the walls, the doors, the beds, creating this feeling of ethereal existence which he wasn't a part of. The illusion of another world. The room was small, but not claustrophobically so. The dim lighting didn't make it harder for him to see, at all. In fact, it was almost like he was standing in a snow-filled meadow, able to see for miles around clearly. But, the sweet smoke of various herbs and the heavily perfumed bodies and clothing made it seem like he was in a fever dream. Perhaps it had been a fever dream.

He was sitting at the foot of the futon, much like he had all those years ago, obediently still. On the bedding, there was a lithe form, the pale skin sliding in and out of those strikingly red layers of silken kimono. The woman was beautiful, objectively. There was nothing truly wrong with her. Well, nothing that a bit of nourishment and rest wouldn't be able to fix. And yet, the sight of her made his stomach churn in an uncomfortable way. Like prey being stalked by a predator. The red lips smiled at him, making him almost wince and look away. But, he couldn't. He'd been ordered not to.

Zabuza hadn't really hated women. Not, at least, that Haku knew. He hadn't preferred men, either. There was no preference to his mentor. Just a deeply ingrained reflex to distrust every single breathing organism other that himself. Other than Haku. Or, perhaps, that too had been an illusion. Retrospectively, he wondered if his mentor had held deep mistrust and hatred for him, as well, somewhere buried in his heart. Then, his final actions in this world would've made even less sense than they already did. Why would he have sacrificed his final breath of chakra for a being he abhorred? Why would he have left Haku to brave the world in his place? He had to have loved him, at least a bit. Perhaps love was too strong of a word. Perhaps Zabuza had held some affection towards him. Like an amusing animal at his side, a shinobi summon. Or perhaps he'd held some feeling towards him like he had towards that blade of his, the one he'd always been so proud of.

A soft moan came from the woman on the futon, completely under Zabuza's control, pulling Haku away from his musings. His mentor had the woman on her back, pressed against his front, while his hands lazily explored the smooth flesh at his disposal. The kimono-dress, or whatever it was supposed to be, barely covered anything. It was more along the lines of that it taunted and tempted with the fact that a single quick movement could expose everything.

"Haku." It was an order. He almost sighed, loving and hating himself for his joy at the sound. That sweet order he'd missed so much. And he hated himself for missing it. He was not supposed to enjoy those orders. He shouldn't be filled with relief at the sound of them. But he was. Why wasn't he supposed to enjoy them, again? The world was much clearer and simpler in his mind with that authoritative tone, telling him exactly when, what, where, how, but never why. "Don't look away," Zabuza spoke again, locking eyes with him for a brief moment. There was no need for further communication.

"It will be extra for your lover to join," the woman sighed up at his mentor, then looked back at Haku. She had something predatory about her, a gaze which promised that she would swallow him up whole. Like she was the hunter, and he the hunted. And his soul was at stake. Or something along those lines. "Though," the woman twisted, her lips painted blood red curling upwards at the ends, like a lazy cat's tail almost. A languid motion. "I don't understand why you'd have need of me with one as pretty as her at your beck and call." Her eyes moved from Zabuza, back to Haku. "Or do you prefer company?"

"This is purely educational," his mentor replied in a clipped tone. That, too, was an order. The woman didn't even skip a beat. She shrugged, relaxing back into Zabuza's battle-hardened body, relinquishing all control. His mentor's hands continued moving across the expanse of her bare skin, evoking soft sighs or giggles, depending on their position. Haku's stomach hadn't stopped clenching since the moment that woman had first laid her eyes on him. No matter how pleasant her voice at Zabuza's touch, he felt like he would puke, still. And when she'd smirked at him, at the notion of him being a part of their pleasure, he'd felt bile rise to his mouth. He didn't want to touch her. He didn't want to be touched by her. He didn't want to be in that room. No amount of sweet smelling smoke and perfume could mask the reality of her predatory disposition. He was prey and she was the predator. And everybody knew it.

"Haku." He had looked away subconsciously. The monotone of the order reminded him that they were only there for his education. He forced his eyes to return to the predator of a woman, lying sprawled on top of his master. "This is essential knowledge." Zabuza didn't even spare him a glance. He kept a watchful eye on the woman in his arms, his fingers sliding across her body, like a paintbrush on a canvas. Yet, the fact that Haku was there, the fact that his mouth was still wrapped, the fact that their mission started in a mere two days, the fact that he'd positioned their luggage by the door, all of that combined told Haku that this had nothing to do with pleasure. Perhaps it was a byproduct of the education, but this really was pure education. "Watch how she reacts to every touch." There was another order. Haku felt a sinking sensation across his whole body. His mind seemed to be floating in the ether somewhere. "Take note of the noises she makes." His fingers were absolutely frozen, contrary to his usual, warm hands. "You, spread your legs for him." The woman obeyed, putting everything on display with another tilt of her lips upwards, like a cat that had eaten the fish and was now observing the oblivious canary. And Haku was that bird. "This is what you need to remember. It will be on the test."

He didn't say a word. He didn't produce even one sound. Something in him left his body at that moment. Because he'd come to realize exactly what his next mission would entail. Yet, he observed the woman with rapt attention, watching as his mentor brought her to her peak numerous times. He sat at the edge of the futon, as instructed, his hakama oddly tight, as none of the things being done next to him were appealing in the least, disgusted at his own body. He watched his mentor enjoy his own fill of the service the brothel provided, despising every single second of his existence in the establishment. Hating his next assignment. Hating himself for being the way he was.

And then, he was awake. The darkness of the room surprised him. He didn't typically have sleepless nights at the Temple. Especially if Kaede was next to him. The warmth of her body brought him some kind of comfort, or sanctuary, he'd never experienced before. Wrapped in her arms, he was completely and unequivocally safe. As if she was some heavenly force which could protect him no matter what dream demon arose from his memories to haunt him. And yet, when he turned to his side, reaching with his eyes to spot where he could feel her warmth on his skin, she was still there. The shape of her rose and fell softly in the darkness, a lump of breathing and living flesh, her body heat and scent providing comfort even in her unconscious state.

Haku felt something slip down his cheek. He reached up with his free hand, the one which wasn't clutched in Kaede's, and wiped at his face. His fingers came back damp. The dream, the nightmare, had been so strong that his self-hatred had physically followed him into reality. He felt sick immediately. His whole body shivered and he felt bile in his throat. He didn't wait or pause or think, he threw himself up, ripping away from the girl at his side, struggling to quickly get to the bathroom. He bent over the toilet, unceremoniously vomiting up his dinner in quick bursts. His nose couldn't even detect the horrid smell of the half-digested food. Instead, all he could smell was the sweet perfume from that accursed room. All he could see was that predatory smile on lips painted red. And even worse, his body could recall the touches which had followed on the mission. His ears rang with the sounds he, himself, had produced. The results of his lesson. The test he'd passed with flying colors. He retched, his stomach empty.

"I've got you," the soft crackle of the fireplace in that familiar voice which radiated warmth and safety brought him back to reality slowly. Like finally breaking the surface during a swim in an icy lake, gasping for breath. "Get it all out," Kaede told him gently. He became aware of the fact that his hair was not in his face. Then, he registered her gentle fingers going across his scalp, centering him to reality. She was holding his hair back for him, he realized. "Just breathe," she kept gently soothing him. "Get it all out."

He wanted to cry. Just break down and cry his eyes out and become the shameful mess which he was. But he somehow managed to hold it together. He retched a few more times, focusing on the gentle fingers going through his hair, Kaede being the one to ground him, as had become his normal. He managed to calm his body, restrain the urge to vomit, but it took him shamefully long to do so. He wobbled over to the sink, letting the cold water flow and washed his face, aware of how clammy his skin had gotten. He suddenly felt physically dirty on the outside. Not just the usual feeling of being disgusting on the inside. The toilet flushed somewhere in the background, but he could barely hear it. There was a giggle in his ear. That predatory giggle, along with a harsh exhale of breath full of smoke and a deep chuckle of a man's voice.

"Haku," the fireplace called him somewhere far behind him, but he was so cold. He was freezing. And then, he was back there, in that hut, with all that blood and all that ice, and it was so cold. He was freezing. There was no meaning to anything anymore. He was back there, helpless and alone and frozen.

"Breathe," the order was hash, in an unfamiliar voice, but a very familiar tone. He obeyed it instantly. "Breathe for me," that was no order. It sounded more like a plea. "How many blue things can you see in the bathroom?" He didn't know. He wasn't in the bathroom, after all. He was sitting in the freezing snow. "I need you to focus for me," the plea again. "Haku, focus," the order was effective.

It was like he snapped out of a dream-like state. His gaze instantly rose from the white, smooth surface of the sink and focused on the reflection of the room which he could see in the mirror. It took him seconds to survey the space and recall every single detail from his memory. Zabuza had drilled that into him well. Never miss anything. Even a single little detail could mean the difference between life and death. He could recall the years of their temporary homes being systematically booby-trapped in things from obvious explosion tags, real ones, as Zabuza never played around, to barely visible wires which would trigger all sorts of pain.

"There are three blue things, twelve if you're including everything with mixed colors, and twenty-three if the outside of the door is included in the count," he replied instantly, listing them off in his head, along with their positions.

"Name them for me," the familiar crackle spoke to him. It wasn't an order, but he followed it regardless.

"Toothbrush, hand towel, obi," he listed off, eyes darting to them. "Toothpaste, shower curtain, shampoo, conditioner, hand soap, curtains, mat, pill bottle, mop," he turned around slowly, taking in the figure of his familiar beloved healer in front of him. "Nine more clothing items on the door, because I'm messy, and a little sticker on the bottom of the door which is some type of insurance I think." Kaede smiled at him softly, her face melting into that familiar look of kindness.

"Where are you right now?" She reached out and took his hand into hers and he felt as if her skin on his set him on fire. Her fingers were so hot. Or was he the one who was too cold?

"Shitchi Temple," he shot off automatically. Her smile widened into a mischievous grin.

"And what date is it today?"

"October twenty-eight, if we're past midnight," he cheekily replied back. Kaede laughed, making him giggle along. Her hand holding his was like an anchor. No matter how cold he was, how temptingly the memory of the snow beckoned him, that warm hand was home. He shamelessly gripped it. Her thumb was moving up and down his skin, caressing the back of his hand, and he was certain that she wasn't doing it consciously.

"Would you like some tea?" She softly asked, clearly gaging his reaction, though she did school her face. Haku realized that he'd seriously worried her.

"That would be lovely," he replied. "Shall I go make some?" The change on her face was so quick that he almost laughed again. Gone was that mask-like expression, the professional Kaede, and she was instantly exasperated. He was familiar with that look. It appeared when he said something that she disagreed with or did something to harm his body. She would raise an eyebrow at him, tilt her head a bit, and smile, but only with tilting one side of her lips up. Then, she huffed and Haku felt her exhale on his clammy skin.

He was thrown back into his memories yet again, but this time it wasn't violent. He recalled that one time during winter, when he'd been on the streets for quite a while already, starving. It had been time to huddle up on his own by the trashcans and settle in for the night yet again. On an empty stomach and with empty pockets, he would have to brave the freezing snow until the following day. That was when the side door of a restaurant opened next to him, exhaling warm, delicious air scented in spices and the unmistakable mouthwatering smell of fried garlic directly onto him. Out stepped a young man, perhaps in his teens or twenties, lighting a cigarette as he walked. He tossed garbage into the can next to Haku and then glanced down at the involuntary noise the boy had made. The air from that establishment had made his body recall that it wanted food. Their eyes met. Starving met overworked. And a silent understanding passed through them. Haku still wasn't sure what had made the teen leave his cigarette on a windowsill to burn out on its own. He had been so immersed in watching that small red flame destroy the white stick that he couldn't tell the passage of time. And then, the teen came back out with a tray. Haku remembered how shocked he had been, how reluctant, how apprehensive, but his body had moved before he could've stopped it. As soon as the food was presented to him he had devoured it. He had polished every single plate and bowl down to nothing, drank every drop of water and savored every second of the warmth. All the while, the teen had smoked a new cigarette next to the back door. Then, he had picked up the tray and gone back into the restaurant without a word, leaving Haku in a cloud of that savory smelling warm air.

Kaede exhaling was like that door opening. He stepped forward as if he were a moth attracted to a flame. Because he really was. Just a silly insect attracted to a flame so bright and strong that it would burn him up at a mere touch. And yet, who was he to question someone like her. Who was he to deny her the right to burn a mere inconvenience in her life. Nobody. He was tainted, dirty, nothing and nobody. And she was everything.

"Haku," her voice pulled him out of the spiraling thoughts which never led to anything good. He smiled at her. The slight wrinkle on her forehead told him that she knew it was a reflex. "How do you feel about washing up while I make us some tea? A warm bath would surely help relax you a bit, especially before some nice tea?" He nodded.

"Of course." How could he not agree with her? His skin was so clammy and he could still taste his own vomit in his mouth. Surely he was as dirty on the outside as he was on the inside right now. He should be out of her presence in such a state. And yet, he couldn't help but be selfish and want to stand right next to her. Behind her. Curl up at her feet and beg for attention. Offer his body as a stepping stool. Because he was a dirty, filthy thing and she was the bright, clean flame.

"Perfect," Kaede smiled joyfully, walking to the tub. He didn't let go of her hand, instead hobbling around behind her like a lost puppy, enjoying every single movement and sound she made. The healer set up his bath, leaving it to fill up, and poured some of the products she found on the shelf, frowning at them as she read the labels. "These are mostly fruit-scented?" She turned to him after she replaced them on the shelf.

Saeko-sama had appeared in Haku's room some months ago, as soon as he was well enough to start showering on his own, and she'd brought a large basket of bottles without labels. Then, she'd had him smell them all and pick out a number which he liked according to some kind of a system which he couldn't follow. Those had become his shower supplies, though he didn't know it at the time. It was the old healer herself who created those in her lab, focusing on health and function first and foremost, and then the scent and the feel on one's skin. In the end, Haku would've picked something more masculine if he'd known that he would end up in a situation such as this. And yet, not knowing the purpose of the bottles, he'd been honest in his preferences. His shower supplies smelled of cherries, vanilla, strawberries, raspberries and other sweet and feminine choices in cosmetics. He hated himself for his nature.

"I think we might have similar preferences when it comes to Saeko-sama's experiments." The healer giggled, pulling him once again out of his spiral of negativity. He glanced at her face quickly, or at least tried to. But, then he was captured by her smile. She seemed so happy, grinning at him, just over that small thing. That was his lovely Kaede, though. She didn't judge his weird habits. She didn't judge him at all. She simply accepted and delighted in their similarities and differences. He had doubted that it would ever be possible to love her more, and yet, he stood corrected. He loved her even more than he ever had.

"I prefer sweet scents," Haku admitted, making her giggle.

"Me too!" Kaede bent closer to him, needlessly whispering like she was telling him some kind of a national secret. "It makes me feel like I'm eating sweets, but I'm actually not." The mirth on her face made him smile. "Alright then," Kaede let go of his hand suddenly, shutting off the water, as the bath was full. "I'll let you take a little bath and I'll be back in a jiffy with some tea. How does mint sound? Or would chamomile be preferable?" She was walking about as she talked, setting up his towel and necessities on the little stool he could reach from the bath, pulling the shower curtain completely away, and so on. Haku felt something cold pierce him the moment she clapped her hands, satisfied, and then headed for the door. He had her hand in his again before he could tell his body not to move.

"Stay," Haku gripped her hand tightly. She stopped talking, reading his face for a moment. "Stay and talk to me," he whispered. She still didn't say anything. "Please." Her hand gripped his back instantly, the other one reaching over to touch his shoulder, sending bursts of warmth into his freezing body.

"Please is banned from now on," Kaede nodded, more to herself than to him. "At least with me, please and sorry are banned." He didn't catch the expression on her face. If he had, he would've been able to see very clearly the internal war the young girl was waging with herself. The battle between her own feelings on the matter and the professionalism which she was bound by. "Is your wound aching? Should I help you into the bath? Or would you prefer if I turned around and talked? Gave you some privacy?" He did spot the reddening of her cheeks, though.

"You could join me, if you'd prefer?" It was out of his mouth before he could stop himself. He couldn't even censor that mischievous smile on his face at her reaction. Her skin got even redder, her ears and neck burned, more than he thought was humanly possible. Then, she glared at him with little malice, almost pouting.

"I-I see you've been studying up on your deflecting techniques," she attempted to compose herself when she spoke, but her voice trembled and her red face betrayed her nervousness. "Good to see that our library is being used for the purpose of torturing healers even at the odd hours of the morning, as it should." He laughed, recollecting the numerous stories Master Jōichirō told of Saeko-sama and Kaede, and how the former had piled work onto the latter with no remorse whatsoever, causing her to study deep into the night. Glancing at Kaede's displeased face, the shadow of the pout still present on her lips, made him laugh even harder. Then, she was giggling, too, and he was happy. He was genuinely happy.

It was a kind of joy his body had forgotten. A kind of warmth that this time did not come from the healer next to him, but from inside himself. Like drinking warm tea, almost, it spread from his heart, down his torso and all over his body, to the tips of his fingers and toes. He thought that this kind of joy, this kind of warmth, really only could come from the soul. He squeezed Kaede's hand one last time and then let go, only watching the girl in front of him. She didn't seem like an all-powerful flame at that moment. Instead, she was simply the girl who brought him joy. Immense joy. She had made him human again, a feat he'd thought impossible.

"Thank you, Kaede," he said in a low tone, appreciating the way she seemed a tad shocked and then composed herself.

"If you keep it up, I'll have to ban half of your vocabulary," the healer huffed at him, hands going to her hips. "Into the bath, off you go. I'll turn around." He waited until she was facing the wall before he began stripping.

"Feel free to ban my vocabulary as you'd like," he didn't bother censoring himself anymore. He enjoyed the blushing side of her and he wanted to see more of it. "I'll just have to disobey." Another huff left the woman.

"Cheeky, cheeky," she fired back, but he was certain that she was blushing by the way her head was ducking down. "I'll take it as a sign of increasing vitality." He'd rather that she took it as a sign of his interest. The thought was too quick in his head, and he instantly pushed it away. As much as he enjoyed flirting with the situation at hand, he was aware of reality. He was a passing character in her story. He was always a passing character. He could never hold a candle to the main lead. And for Kaede, nobody except the best, the main lead, would be good enough.

That's all for now folks!

Tainan republic: Thank you so much for the review!
I agree, Haku's got it bad bad, both the liking and the PTSD. But, he'll work on both, don't worry :)
I hope you'll enjoy the new chapter!