Because a story cannot sit with only one chapter, here's one more.

Warnings: Suicidal thoughts, PTSD and many other things which need to be fixed about poor Haku asap.

Chapter 2: Living

It took him considerably longer than he'd like to admit to get his breathing and heart rate under control. Sitting alone in his bed, in the dark room, Haku did as he had learned. He placed one hand over his heart and concentrated on his calming method of choice – counting. It took him a while, likely more than an hour, to get his heart rate down. To get his breathing even. To get his body to stop sweating. Before, he would've been able to do something like that easily.

Control. Zabuza was a strict teacher. He preached control above anything else. Control your emotions. Control your body. Control your chakra. Control your jutsu. Control your weapon. Haku had learned to control his emotions early on. Only a few weeks with Zabuza had fixed those. Controlling his body had taken years. But, he had managed somehow. Chakra and jutsu control had been difficult, but not impossible. It was the first time anyone had willingly asked him to use his kekkei genkai. He had learned to be very precise with that, too. Weapons, those had been fun. From the easiest of kunai to the most difficult and precise senbon, he'd learned over time. And there he was now, in that bed, in the welcoming and warm Shitchi Temple, losing all control. His body didn't listen to him. His chakra went haywire every time he attempted to focus it. His jutsu was beyond saving in his current state. His emotions were a mess. He was a failure. He had failed as a tool and as a shinobi. He had failed as a human being. He had failed as everything. And yet he was still breathing. It made him sick. The steady thumping of his heart made him sick.

He didn't know how long he sat there for in the dark. He just wanted to be swallowed up by it. He wanted the storm inside him to vanish. He wanted to go numb once more, to forget everything and to return to being Nanashi, fascinated by the world he was rediscovering. Nanashi had had it easy. A painful body and a stable mind. A welcoming and nurturing environment. A desire to find out everything and anything. Haku had it hard. The fog which had been in his head as Nanashi was gone and the clarity he existed in was as sharp as a blade. It stung quite like that, too. Every waking moment was painful. Every unconscious moment was filled with dreams of suffocation and death. What would it take to make it all stop? He had no control over anything any longer. Perhaps he could at least choose how and when he died.

Haku struggled to get out of bed. He approached the desk with the aid of his crutch, always left within reach carefully by Kaede, and he stared at the items on top of the wooden surface. There was a medical book on orthopedics and a plate which he'd eaten from the previous evening while reading. On top of the plate sat a knife. He'd used that to peel and cut an apple. The skin of the fruit still remained on the plate, the small bits of flesh having oxidized into a pretty brown. The smell of apples permeated the room gently. He liked the scent of apples. But, the knife was more appealing. He picked it up with his free hand, inspecting the edge's sharpness by drawing his thumb across it. In the darkness of the room, illuminated only by moonlight from the window, crimson drops blossomed under the touch of the blade.

"You're still up?" Haku was torn from his trance, the inspection of the blood drops, by the soft sigh behind him. He turned around to find Kaede enter his room. She was always soundless when she moved, despite the heavy geta on her feet. "I thought you might be. I had a lot of charts to fill, so I'm late tonight. I was hoping you'd be asleep alre- oh." She stopped short, seeing his grip on the knife. Then, she went silent, her eyes going up to his face. They weren't angry of accusatory. Just, sad somehow.

"It seems that I was a tad careless," Haku smiled at her. A reflex. He placed the knife back on the plate and put his thumb into his mouth. The taste of blood was familiar. Kaede didn't say anything, but her expression told him that she didn't quite believe his fib.

"With all of your time devouring our library you should know by now that human saliva isn't good medical practice," the healer walked over, reaching out for his hand. He allowed her to pull his finger free from his mouth and she inspected the cut. It was shallow, but still bled. Another set of red droplets blossomed on the pad of his thumb. "I'll get some ointment." And she was gone. His hand felt so cold when she let go.

Haku waited for Kaede. He realized at some point that he would be happy enough in his life, or whatever remnants of life it was, if he could spend it waiting on Kaede. Waiting on, waiting for, all of it. The adoration for the slip of a healer that had developed during his time at the Temple had become like a lifeline which he gripped as tightly as possible, at all times. He would be happy enough to serve her for the rest of the time which was allowed him.

She would hate that, he tore himself from the fantasy. Kaede was very independent. Very much independent. He didn't know a lot about her, anything, really. He knew of her from the time he'd met her to the present. Nothing further, nothing more. But, what he knew, he was wholly and fully in love with. The gentle person. Zabuza had often scolded him on how soft he was. Told him that it was his biggest weakness. Told him to get rid of it. Stab it and butcher it and devour that part of himself before it got him killed. How funny.

And then there was Kaede. She was nothing but soft. Her hair was soft. Her hands were soft. Her voice was soft. Her footsteps were soft. Her demeanor was soft. Kaede was soft. So deliciously, perfectly and irreplaceably soft. He loved the steady emotional strength underneath that softness which supported her kindness. He adored Kaede, perhaps also because she was the epitome of what he could be, if he was strong enough to support his nature.

"Let me see that," Kaede's voice made him jump slightly. With a smile she tended to his cut, not commenting on how he'd gotten it. She applied salve and wrapped the pad of his finger in a bandage. Tied it securely, yet softly. "Let's get some sleep into you, so you can get a head start on that recovery tomorrow." It wasn't an order, but he obeyed it like doctrine. Haku struggled to get up from the chair beside the desk, and the healer was immediately at his side, providing a surprisingly strong support to his free arm.

"My legs fell asleep," he chuckled with a smile.

"They will get better the more time you spend using them," Kaede reassured. She made certain that he was comfortable on the bed before she crawled in, settling on the pillows and opening her arms for him. Haku didn't hesitate. He buried himself in her soft body, hugging her tightly, getting enveloped in her intoxicating scent of herbs and laundry detergent. "Sweet dreams," Kaede whispered, covering them both with the blanket and wriggling into a good position to rest.

"I hope you have sweeter ones," he whispered back, already half-asleep.

When he woke up, well-rested, she was already gone. Haku glanced from the bed out the window to see the morning sun barely peeking through the usual fog which hung around the Temple. Kaede was always gone by the time he woke up. While traveling with Zabuza he had been the early riser. Whether it was due to the time he'd spent on the streets, worrying about what situation he would find himself in once he opened his eyes or because of the time he'd spent after his parents met their end, terrified of someone else coming to hunt him down, Haku didn't sleep much. Four hours. That was what he needed. Even that time he'd spent as an undercover shinobi at the academy, he hadn't slept more than four hours during the night. Sometimes he napped during the day, when the circumstances permitted. But, mostly it was around four hours, oftentimes even less.

Yet, since he woke up at the Shitchi Temple for the first time, he would always end up dozing off for more than ten hours during the day. The rest of the time, he'd spend yawning and yearning for his bed. In spite of all the nightmares, he still wished for sleep. Perhaps he was making up all the sleep hours he'd lost during his childhood. Perhaps he'd simply wished for dreams to take him away from his reality. He didn't know. And he didn't bother dwelling on it.

Instead, he pushed himself up. The area around his chest tightened as he did. Whenever he moved, it was tight. Kaede had told him that that kind of pain was normal and that he shouldn't push through it, but lessen the strain whenever he could. He obeyed. He always obeyed what she told him. It wasn't like Zabuza's orders. Kaede didn't make him do anything. He didn't feel like he had to listen to her. There was none of that. It was simply… because she cared for his wellbeing. Her words and instructions came from years of experience as a healer and from a place of worry. Haku obeyed them gladly. He obeyed her like a man starved ate for the first time in a long time. He obeyed her without question, because he could see the sound logic of her instructions. Not orders, instructions.

He smiled to himself, getting his crutch. The Shitchi Temple and its residents had made him feel a sense of peace he hadn't felt since that time, all those years ago, living with his parents on the outskirts of the village. Yet, he couldn't stop the gnawing guilt eating him every second of every day. He would face it, Haku decided. It was time to face that. Like Kaede said, he couldn't expect her or anyone else to make decisions for him. He had this life, the life given to him, by whatever miracle, to live. He couldn't just wait for someone else to plan it out for him. He had to become a human being, leave behind the mindset of a tool. He had to live, not survive.

"Saeko-sama," after bathing and dressing, Haku found the old healer in her study that afternoon, for a change, on his own. Though Kaede had remained outside of the bathroom the whole time, she'd let him do as much as he could on his own. This trip he'd made on his own two feet and the wooden cruch.

"Nanashi," Saeko put down her pen and took off her reading glasses. She turned in her chair to watch him hobble into the room and motioned for the patient cot next to her desk. He sat down with a grunt and then sighed when the weight was off his legs. It still hurt to walk around, but he was getting better. With each day, each step, it was becoming easier to move around the Temple. "How is your rehabilitation going? I trust Kaede has been sufficient?"

"Kaede is more than sufficient," Haku smiled politely at the healer. "She instructs me gently on my routines and helps me whenever I need it, but always lets me do as much as I can," he reassured. "I've been feeling my strength return steadily." Saeko nodded to herself.

"No more headaches?"

"None in the past few weeks," He promised.

"And the tightness around the wound?"

"It's manageable," he replied. "More importantly, Saeko-sama," Haku cut her off before she went down the long, familiar list which she always used when they met up to check his recovery. "I was hoping that you could tell me more about the circumstances of my healing." The old healer sighed, then turned completely towards him.

"I really dislike that polite way of yours, Nanashi," Saeko grumbled. "Ask me outright what you want to know." Haku took a second, bracing himself for the question which would surely be the spark of an avalanche. It was time to say goodbye to Nanashi, it seemed.

"I've remembered," he hesitated, then continued. "Everything." Saeko didn't speak. By her demeanor, he couldn't judge if Kaede had reported his newfound memories to her or not. "I used to be a shinobi. A nukenin. I served Momochi Zabuza for the majority of my life." He took another breath. Saying Zabuza's name out loud had made his voice crack unpleasantly. His throat was tight. He chose to avoid the whole topic of his mentor's death for the time being and instead focused on what had been bothering him. "I can recall being in a battle which should've taken my life. I can recall sacrificing myself for my mentor," he avoided Zabuza's name shamefully. "I… I can't comprehend how I'm sitting here, talking to you now. The wound I suffered tore my heart. I shouldn't've been able to survive it." He realized that at some point, he'd glanced at his hands and was clenching them together tightly. He forced his fingers to relax.

Saeko sighed. "I will talk to you as I would talk to a shinobi, then," she told him slowly. Her voice didn't change. She didn't pity him in any way or form. "When you were injured, a jutsu was applied to you. This jutsu is meant to be a life-saving method on the battlefield, it was devised purely for that." Haku looked up quickly, finding the woman looking out the window.

"H-how do you know?"

"I created it," Saeko explained. "I knew Momochi Zabuza very well," she turned to him with a soft smile then. "He was such an angry, angsty boy when I knew him. He was under my tutelage for five years before leaving on a mission and never returning to the village. I always wondered if I'd failed in my teachings, but I see, when I look at you, that it wasn't the case."

"When you look at me?" Haku tilted his head, not certain how to take her words. Saeko laughed.

"That greenhorn full of rage managed to raise such a wonderful student, after all," she extended her hand, patting his cheek gently. "Perhaps it was fate that he should use my jutsu to save you only for my husband to find you and bring you to me. Perhaps all of this was fate." Haku's throat closed up and his vision went blurry. "Your master must've loved you very much, to have used the very last of his chakra, the very essence of his life, in order to save your life. That is the Last Breath I created and taught him. It is a way to sacrifice your own life in order to save another's."

"Z-Zabuza-s-san, h-he-" Haku's voice broke and he desperately tried to get his breathing under control. He hadn't expected to lose composure like that. To abandon his training like that. To break down from the answers he received.

"He judged your life to be worth more than his," Saeko stood from her chair, crossing the small distance to sit next to him. "He was a perfect mentor, in the end, considering his child more important than himself."

"B-but, I'm not- I'm just h-his tool," Haku's voice cracked while he struggled to keep his tears at bay. "A defective tool that failed to save him." Saeko took his hands into her own and squeezed them gently.

"One's student is always one's child, regardless of bloodlines," she told him softly. "That's how I teach and that's how Zabuza was taught. You were very precious to him indeed. Never forget that." At those words, Haku lost whatever composure he had left and tears spilled over. He hiccupped, trying desperately to stop them and reached up, wiping them with both hands. That was when Saeko reached over and took him into her warm embrace, the scent of medicinal herbs enveloping him in her arms. Haku broke down completely and sobbed into her shoulder, hugging her tightly, while Saeko patted his back. He didn't know how long he sat there for. Maybe hours, maybe minutes. It seemed like days. But, when he finally let go of the old healer and she brushed his tears away, he knew one thing for certain. This life, the life Zabuza had saved for him, the life his teacher had saved for him, he wouldn't squander it.

"Essentially what he's given you is a second chance," Saeko said, taking a moment to empty her pipe into the ashtray. After his tears had stopped, she'd lit her tobacco and given him some chamomile tea. "I won't pretend to know my foolish disciple's mind, but if he's used something like the Last Breath, he surely used it wholeheartedly."

"To help me survive?" The old woman instantly groaned, her sharp eyes rising from where she was fiddling with her pipe to glare at Haku.

"To help you live," she clarified, pointing her kisaru at him. "Don't mistake surviving for living, boy. Don't mistake a chance for pity or charity. You've got this life he's given you, this time free of obligations, what will you do with it?"

The room fell into silence. Haku really didn't have a reply for that. He really didn't. What could have Master Zabuza been thinking in those final moments? To give him whatever he had left and leave him all alone in this cruel world with a slim chance at survival. No, a chance at living. What was the difference anyway? Haku didn't know. He knew that there was one. Living didn't taste the same on his tongue as surviving. It seemed so long ago when he'd lived with his parents. So long ago his memory was fuzzy as if lost in some blizzard. He could recall surviving fairly well. Surviving on that bridge. Surviving on that road. Surviving on those missions. Surviving in that hole. He could recall survival. What was living?

"Take your time," Saeko said after she'd puffed out a few circles of smoke, clouding up the room. "You don't need to have all the answers right away. That's how life is. Nothing goes according to plan." Haku frowned.

"Missions do," he replied. Saeko cackled.

"Missions go awry all the time, boy," she said. Then, she sighed, reaching out and placing her hand on top of his. "Just know you'll have a place here, a bed, a meal and some work, for as long as you want it. And if you decide to leave here, you will have our heartfelt goodbyes and well-wishes." Haku looked up at her with wide eyes. His stomach clenched uncomfortably. He was afraid, he realized.

"How do I know what I should do? How do I know I'm doing what's right? How do I live up to Master's expectations?" He asked in rapid succession. Saeko cackled again, standing up.

"That's the difference between a human and a tool, boy," she told him. "Now, you're no longer your master's tool. You're a human. A living, breathing human. Decisions are tough when you need to make them on your own, aren't they, Haku?" She went to leave the dark living room, pausing at the door. "We'll keep the smoke between us, ye?" He offered her a small smile, his mind still plagued with her questions and answers. "Thought so. Sleep on it." And then, she was gone.

"Weights?" Kaede asked absent-mindedly, not turning to look at him. "We don't really have those, but you could use some homemade ones, I guess," she trailed off. Then, she almost dropped the bandages she'd been rolling and turned to look at him. "Aren't you rushing it a bit? Weights right now might be…" He smiled at her.

"I know how much my body can handle," he promised. "I won't overdo it and I won't tear out my stiches." The frown on her face didn't go away. She abandoned the bandages on the table to lean over and press her finger in between his eyes gently.

"You've been doing that a lot lately," she accused. The gentle touch on his skin made him go cross-eyed to look at her hand. She giggled at his expression and withdrew her finger.

"Doing what?"

"Smiling as a defense mechanism." Kaede was so observant that it made him annoyed sometimes. "You were doing it before, but now it's much more frequent and only when you're being touchy about something." He didn't reply. He really couldn't reply to that. She was right. He didn't know when that had started, but it had begun a long time ago. Smile at the lady from the shop, so she'll give you food out of pity. Smile at the people passing, so they'll give you some change for a warm meal or even a place to sleep. Smile at the questions you can't answer, so that they'll stop being posed out of awkwardness. He had learned that a smile could fix a lot of his problems.

Kaede sighed, making him look up at her. She had picked up her bandages once again. "I'll fill up some bottles with water. That way you can be responsible with the weight and add or reduce the amount depending on stress."

"Thank you." That smile was genuine. That one he meant.

"You will need a new walking route," Kaede added. "If you're feeling well enough to work on regaining muscle strength, you should be able to handle some more distance." Haku sighed. He really wasn't looking forward to that. Walking was still quite taxing. His legs seemed to do only what they wanted, feeling alien to him. To think that not so long ago he'd had such perfect control of his muscles that he could use multiple techniques at once. And now… Now there he was, struggling to go from his room to the kitchen. Flicker seemed like a faraway dream to regain.

"I could try steps," he suggested tentatively. Kaede didn't stop rolling her bandages, but she did look at him. She inspected him for a moment and then nodded.

"We will do stairs, then," she concluded.

"To the herbal garden?"

"No," it was an immediate dismissal of the idea. The herbal garden was situated above the Shitchi Temple, going far up the mountain with wide stone slabs which served as steps and paths. The main part of it was so high up on the mountain that it was above the clouds. Haku had been there many times before, in his wheelchair, when Kaede had work there. He enjoyed taking tea in the garden, separating leaves from stems of medical herbs and doing small jobs which didn't require him to get out of his seat. "The altitude could be harmful," the young woman explained. "Instead let's attempt indoors stairs and then switch to lower areas of the mountain."

"Alright," Haku agreed. He looked at the healer in front of him, taking his time to inspect her. Kaede and he often worked like that. A small menial task would be laid out, one that he could complete in order to feel useful, which he knew that the young woman arranged purely for his sake, and then she would continue to work on the more important things on her own, leaving him to his own devices. He would take that time to look at her.

Kaede was stunning. In his eyes, she was likely the most stunning person he'd ever seen. It wasn't that she was immensely beautiful. At most, Kaede was pretty by conventional means. Haku knew how to gauge that objectively. He'd seen plenty of people passing by while he was begging. Rich people, poor people. He remembered the ladies in their expensive silk kimonos of many layers walking delicately past him. Kaede didn't have the typically highly valued sharp features of a mature lady. Instead, her face was rounder, her eyes bigger and her mouth poutier. She wasn't a lady, but a young woman. Still, she was stunning. Mainly, because of how she was.

Kaede did nothing half-heartedly. She would pour herself into every single task, no matter how seemingly trivial it was. At that moment, she was rolling bandages. Her eyes didn't stray from even one of them. The rolls were uniform and perfect, as if done by a machine. There were no creases. She would disinfect her hands between each roll. She settled them all into a secure container, looking as if store-bought at the end of her task. Her thin fingers moved like they were playing the piano or caressing a lover while working. The practiced movements, clearly done many times before, were effortlessly elegant. What someone women took years to achieve, she did without thinking. What they would pride themselves in showing off, she did humbly, only in front of him.

When he wasn't staring at her beautiful hands, worn from all the work, he was looking at her expression. Kaede always had a small crinkle on her nose when she concentrated. She scrunched it up in an adorable fashion, clearly showing that her task was taxing, no matter how easy it seemed. And her eyes. They never glanced away from the rolls. She would look at length, size, position and then roll up the thin strands into position. Yes, Haku was always captivated by her. He couldn't help it. He would just prop his head up on the table and watch her. She didn't seem perturbed by his gaze, so he didn't bother hiding his fascination, like in the beginning. He shamelessly watched her.

At those times, when he was alone with Kaede in that odd state of peacefulness, he didn't feel the creeping, hollowing guilt of breathing. Kaede was like an oasis in the middle of the desert for him. Like a lighthouse in the dark seas, steering him to port. He could breathe while he was there, in that moment.

"Oh," the young woman stopped briefly when she was done with her box of bandages. "It's almost lunchtime." She had glanced at the clock on the wall. "I'll get something ready. Would you like to give me a hand?"

"It would be my pleasure."

That's all for now folks!

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