Two children played with a dog out in the street. They tumbled around, giggling and barking, stirring up great plumes of dust that rose in the air like a sheen of yellow mist. Adults walked past to business or pleasure or lounged on the porches of the cheap housing units, caught up in their own lives and duties.

Haku watched them without seeing; hands resting on his knees and attention turned to the meeting going on behind him.

Their client was there, seated in the same stiff kneeling position as Haku with his thick belly taking up half his lap. His voice shook as he spoke and Haku could smell the sweat off of him. Apparently, he could only give them less then half the payment he’d promised when he hired them. The reason for this was complex and, in fact, reasonable.

It was also an utter lie, but that was to be expected.

Zabuza lounged across from him on the tattered tatami mats, his casual sprawl showing as much disrespect as self-confidence. One wrist rested on a bent knee, while his large, sword calloused hand supported his bandaged face. Haku didn’t need to turn around to see his keeper’s expression. The outcome of this conversation had already been decided.

“So, as you can see,” their client babbled, pausing only for audible swallow, “The entire payment isn’t possible at this time. It’s nothing personal of course, just business. You understand.”

In the street, the dog nipped a little too hard at one of the children and earned a squeal of disapproval. One of the watching mothers stepped forward to separate the tangle of animal and child. Haku moved his thumb, rubbing the soft material of his hakama against his thigh.

“Yes,” Zabuza said and the chuckle in his voice was dark.

Haku rose from the wood slates of the porch in a single fluid motion. Turned around, he could see the stark terror on their client’s greasy face as Zabuza shifted on the mats, coiling himself like a snake.

“I understand completely,”

Haku slid the paper screen closed and returned to his former position.

Twenty minutes later, the screen opened and Zabuza stepped out, twisting his back as if to loosen stiff muscles. He was spotless, but from right near the door, Haku could clearly pick up the stench of blood and spilt bowls that wafted out from the room.

“Come on, kid.” Zabuza didn’t wait for agreement, hitching his sword higher on his back and starting off down the street.

Haku was up and at his master’s heels before he had finished the second word, a dutiful shadow flitting silently in Zabuza wake. They didn’t rush or hurry, traveling along through the seedier areas of the village at a steady pace that spoke of business and importance. There weren’t many people that would get in the way of someone Zabuza’s size or carrying armament like his, regardless.

Because the ward they were in was along the docks outside the city wall, they only had to worry about the guard station on the trade road. This was easily avoided by breaking into one of the houses and escaping over its back wall into the woods on the west side. Haku could hear the sound of the village watch being called even as the trees swallowed them up.

They traveled in silence for a long while, moving fluidly between one shadow and the next.

“How much, Zabuza-san?” Haku asked, when he thought it had been long enough that he would actually get an answer.

Zabuza fished a small leather sack from an inner pocket in his pants and tossed it over to the boy. Haku didn’t open it up – he wasn’t allowed to handle the money unless Zabuza gave it to him to buy something in particular or to make bribes. The fact that Zabuza trusted him not to touch the coins even while they were in his hands was more effective in staying his curiosity than any beating could be.

Haku weighted the sack. “Not enough.”

“More than half, once I liberated it from him,” Zabuza said in a rough-edged voice that was neither angry nor amused, “He might even have gotten the rest to us in a few days.”

“Assuming we wanted to stay around that long,” Haku finished the thought and passed the pouch back. It vanished again into the waistband of Zabuza’s pants.

“Keep your eyes open,” he said as he picked up the pace, nearly flying between the tangle of wind twisted trees, “I want to have dinner caught by the time we make camp.”

“Yes, Zabuza-san,” Haku said, drawing out his needles.

**

There was a sheltered cove off of a large lake that could be defended on three sides, with at least seven escape routes. Zabuza, after exploring it, declared they would be staying for several days.

Knowing that they needed to conserve their money until the next job, Haku simply nodded and prepared the pheasants he had killed. Of course, he wouldn’t have said anything even if they had been richer than kings. It wasn’t his place.

Once they had eaten, Haku rose from his place by the fire. “I’m going to wash,” he said. He’d bathed yesterday morning, in a cheap bathhouse in the village, and if he waited until tomorrow, he could wash with warm water heated over the fire. But the thought of going to sleep tonight covered in the sweat from that day’s job bothered him.

Zabuza lounged on the uneven ground, staring into the dying flames with dark eyes. He didn’t acknowledge Haku’s statement, but Haku hadn’t expected him too.

The boy slid off his clothing and folded it on his bound bedroll, untying his hair as he walked naked down to the lake. The surface was black, painted in the writhing splashes of white from the low-lying moon. It was icy, but Haku barely noticed. Cold was a familiar and oft entertained companion, one he welcomed back with the same sweet smile he gifted to Zabuza.

Soon he was able to submerge himself, moving buoyantly over the thick sand the covered the lakebed and moving his arms and legs against the resistance of the water. It felt nice; his entire body tingled from the cold and the silvery light on his bare skin made him think of long lost, snow-laden nights.

Relaxed from his swim, he was about to go back to the shore to get the soap, when he sensed someone else entering the lake.

“Zabuza-san,” he said in greeting to his guardian, swimming a wide circle to give Zabuza the space he needed to bathe privately.

“Come here,” the tall man said when he was no further then waist deep, gesturing Haku over to him. Without his face bandages, his mouthful of razor teeth glimmered in the light when he spoke. Haku paddled over obediently.

“Turn around.”

A sound nearly escaped Haku’s lips when he saw the hunk of soap Zabuza held. The missing-nin had only helped Haku bathe once, when they first started traveling together and that was for the purpose of teaching Haku how to do it on his own. It was made clear at the time that if Zabuza had to participate in such events again, it would involve a wire brush. Haku had to be proficient in his own personal care, or he was no good to the older ninja. He didn’t need punishment to enforce that lesson.

“Zabuza-san,” Haku said, a question and compliance at the same time, and gave Zabuza his back.

Lather covered hands ghosted up his back before they gathered up the ends of his hair, working the long black strands between them. Strong, coarse fingers slid up to his scalp, pushing forward over the sensitive skin. It was an entirely new feeling, enough to make him shiver unexpectedly and close his eyes.

Haku was used to being loomed over by Zabuza’s size; it was a comforting, safe feeling, to forever be eclipsed in his keeper’s shadow. Now the familiar presence felt more there then ever before, so close that the warmth of his bare skin reached Haku’s water chilled flesh. He shivered again as that rough but careful touch ran wetly down the sides of his cheeks and around his ears, starting a low pulse below his stomach.

“Zabuza-san...” he said again, not asking further because he knew there would be no answer. The grip in his hair shifted to cup is chin and his head was carefully titled back, supported at the nape of his neck.

They looked at each other in silence for a while, Haku’s heart fluttering in his chest and something gathering low and tight in his belly. Zabuza’s face was as a still as the cliffs rising above the surface of the lake, his grip too firm to escape but too gentle to damage. His body behind Haku was like a log fresh from the fire and Haku thought it would set him blaze if he came in contact with it.

“Hm,” Zabuza said finally, “Not yet.” He released his charge with a pat to the shoulder that was oddly off-handed considering their earlier intimacy and rinsed the lather from his hands before returning to the camp. He left the soap floating on the surface and Haku had to catch it fast before it sank to the bottom.

He stared after Zabuza and felt strangely as if he’d been standing on the edge of crevasse into something deep and unknown. But Haku wasn’t an innocent and in half the time it took for him to finish washing, he’d already understand what had not happened.

When the last traces of soap were gone, he returned to the fire to find Zabuza already dry and lying on his side of the bedroll, eyes closed and breathing even in a way completely out of keeping with real sleep. Haku knelt naked on his side and dried himself with a towel, ringing out the extra moisture in his hair and binding it up.

Dressed for rest and warmed by the slowly dying flames, Haku lay down and looked Zabuza’s broad back. In a quiet, unobtrusive voice designed to be unheard if the other person wished it so, Haku said, “Zabuza-san, whatever you request of me is yours.”

He spoke not as a concession to Zabuza’s desires, but as if it were the purest fact. Like he was saying the sky was blue – a truth so great everyone knew it without ever speaking it.

There was a pause, a change in Zabuza’s breathing that was enough to let him know that his words had been heard.

“Go to sleep, kid,” Zabuza said finally.

With a very slight smile, Haku closed his eyes and did just that.

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