To Sleep, Perchance to Dream
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Naruto AU/AR › General
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Adult +
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Category:
Naruto AU/AR › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,091
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Naruto, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
To Sleep, Perchance to Dream
A/N - Hey everyone!!! This is my first Naruto story, yay! Oddly enough, it's two characters I had vowed to never write. Ah well. My resolve broke. There's not much in the way of yaoi here, but I still like the relationship between them in this. I just can't think of these two that way. It doesn't seem...enough. Ah well, Za says it better in this. This is the MOST innocent thing I've ever written...so enjoy it while it lasts, because innocent is not my norm. **points over at the Shichinintai section of the Inuyasha stories** Anyway, I hope those of you still interested enjoy it!!
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To Sleep, Perchance to Dream
It was odd that there were moments like this…moments where there was nobody to run from, nothing to take shelter from, and no place in particular to go. It was refreshing to simply be able to build a campfire in a wooded clearing off the main path, and sleep under the stars. On this warm night, that’s exactly what the missing-nin Zabuza Momochi and his protégé, Haku, were doing. Or rather, that’s what Haku was doing. Zabuza was still awake.
They’d had a rough go of it the past two days. Their last job had been a botch, and it was only Haku’s quick thinking and Zabuza’s skill at the silent kill that had kept them from being caught by the hunter-nins still hot on their trail. The proceeding run for their literal lives had been exhausting on them both, and more than once Zabuza had wondered if his shorter ward could handle it. But Haku had kept up admirably, taking to the trees at times when Zabuza’s longer strides left him behind. But even when the boy was out of sight, Zabuza knew he was never far away. He hadn’t even noticed when that thought had started to be comforting.
Since when had his protégé become the master? Haku had progressed even beyond Zabuza’s wildest imaginings. His skill with the senbon needles was unsurpassable. The boy was lethal at both long and short distances. And then there was the kekkei genkai. The first time Haku had explained to him, with excitement fairly glowing in his eyes, what the mirrors allowed him to actually do, Zabuza had almost drooled. Such power, and it belonged to him. After all, Haku was his. His tool, his weapon, his trump card, his most trusted adviser, and the closest thing he’d allow to a friend.
Right now, the boy was sleeping. Deeply. It was the first chance they’d had to do more than lightly doze in over 48 hours. But Zabuza couldn’t sleep. He’d gone off to a nearby stream to wash up after an unhurried dinner, and when he’d returned, Haku was already curled up in his bedroll, head pillowed on an arm that was flung up behind his head. The complete and total innocence on the shinobi’s normal mask of a face had come as a complete shock. Now, even though Zabuza’s body begged him for rest, and his eyes stung and threatened to close on him, he couldn’t stop studying that face.
During the day, Haku wore two masks. There was the one everyone else saw, the mask of the hunter-nin, which Haku wore to intimidate and confuse his opponents; but there was another mask too. Zabuza didn’t know when Haku had first started to wear it. When the boy was younger, he’d played and laughed and run like a normal child. In fact, it was one of the things Zabuza had been most proud of. The fact that he’d been able to provide the ostracized, orphaned urchin the latter half of a normal childhood helped him sleep better at night when he’d wondered whether what he was about to do to Haku was right or not.
Still, it wasn’t he who’d told Haku to become such a stoic. It wasn’t he who’d told him to never show emotion off the battlefield or to grow up so fast. That was another mask Haku had assumed on his own, and whatever reason he’d done it hadn’t made itself clear to Zabuza yet.
But in sleep, the mask was gone. And Zabuza took the opportunity offered. Haku’s unguarded face was open and endearing. Beautiful. The swordsman had always been aware of the beauty inherent in the other shinobi. He’d watched him grow up, after all; from child, through the awkward stage when puberty first reared it’s ugly head, and finally into the poised, graceful, deadly being asleep in front of him. Through it all, Haku had possessed a kind of ethereally tragic aura, and it was something that made him altogether untouchable, despite the pretty face and polite smiles.
In truth, lately, Zabuza had come to be slightly wary of his ward. He could never tell what Haku was thinking anymore, and that was a dangerous thing to have in a partner. Haku had become closed off, keeping to himself as often as not, and rarely starting conversations. At first, Zabuza had been offended. Hadn’t the boy always said that he was happiest with him? That he owed him everything? Zabuza had worked himself up into a fine temper, when the nightmare had happened.
He had a policy of never interfering with Haku’s life, except when it was endangered, or was a danger to his own. He’d seen his protégé go through nightmare after nightmare after nightmare over the years, but this one was different. In this one, he never cried out for his mother, or begged his father for his life. This one lacked the usual pleas for forgiveness and the screams of guilt. This one contained his name. And that was how he’d found out that the one thing Haku feared most in the entire world was the death of his mentor.
He’d known how Haku felt about him. For a long time, he’d known. It was a love greater than any lover or child, and a loyalty that far surpassed that of a student for a teacher. Haku looked on him as a savior. The man who’d remade him; given him back his life and convinced him that he had the right to live it. The man who’d wanted him. It was a deeply seated feeling, and frankly, at first, Zabuza had eaten it up. He’d used it to his advantage when he had to, to push the younger Haku to do things that no boy should want to…like kill and skin his own supper. But after the nightmare…it made him nervous.
It hit Zabuza now. The reason for the mask. The withdrawal, the concealing of emotions, all of it stemmed from himself. Haku was a shinobi, and he’d always been perceptive aside from his training. He must have seen the sudden change come over his mentor, and acted accordingly. ….But it was more than that. There was no guilt there. Zabuza studied Haku’s unguarded face again, and found fear there as the boy’s brows drew down, and a slight whimper escaped his lips.
“Zabuza-san….” The once-peaceful face screwed up in pain.
“Zabuza-san…please don’t die.”
Haku was distancing himself. He knew a shinobi’s life was filled with the deaths of comrades. That was something Zabuza had been sure to teach him early on. And the boy was realistic, although Zabuza wasn’t sure that he shouldn’t be miffed that Haku could imagine his death so easily. Haku knew his feelings towards the older man were dangerous, and could be used against him, even as he drew his greatest strength from them. He was endeavoring to find a delicate balance between cutting himself off, and loving too much. Zabuza sighed and frowned. It couldn’t be easy for him, but it was a sound reason, if horrid to think about. Haku was so frightened of losing him that he was pushing himself away to keep their little team working smoothly.
Zabuza wondered if he could help. Maybe if he were gruffer with the boy, ignored him a bit more often…but no. He didn’t want to damage Haku, and there was more than one way to lose someone.
The nightmare took a turn for the worse, but as far as Haku’s nightmares went, this one was still tame. He was tossing and squirming in his sleep, not paralyzed and trembling with fear. His eyes were still screwed shut, not wide open and unseeing….but still. A nightmare was a nightmare, and Zabuza not only wanted sleep, but he wanted Haku to get enough as well. He crawled over and touched his ward’s shoulder lightly.
“Haku.”
He dodged out of the way of the handheld needle that aimed for his throat. …He really should have expected that. Haku was breathing hard and staring at him, the last vestiges of the dream trickling away. With them went the ice in his eyes and the coldness in his face. He blinked, and when he looked at Zabuza again, it was with the unintentional doe-eyes that had first tugged at Zabuza’s broken heartstrings.
“Zabuza-san…” he breathed out, and one last shudder ripped its way through his body. For a small second, he was the boy the swordsman had watched grow up. Then the mask descended, and all of it was gone.
“I’m sorry I disturbed your sleep, Zabuza-san.” There was that infuriatingly polite smile. “I hope I wasn’t too much trouble to wake…..” he trailed off at the look on his mentor’s face. To Zabuza’s credit, he kept the smirk off his face when he saw the fear in Haku’s guarded eyes.
“Listen, you little idiot!” Zabuza grabbed his shoulders, more roughly than he’d ever handled the boy before. “You were having a nightmare! You don’t have to apologize for that, Haku. That’s something you can’t control.” The urge hit him, and he followed through, for once, pulling the startled shinobi into a fierce hug.
“Don’t apologize for a nightmare, ok? Don’t make it seem like your every breath is a burden to me. Because it’s not.” His voice was soft, and Haku looked up in surprise. Zabuza brushed back his bangs, like he’d done when his ward was much younger, and was startled to see a soft blush blossom from the action. He let Haku go, but kept a hand on his shoulder.
“Zabuza-san—”
“I know what you’re doing, Haku.” He sighed when the boy tensed. “I….approve of it.” That had been surprisingly hard to say. “But there have to be some limits.”
“….Limits?” Haku was confused although his face didn’t show it.
“Yes, limits. We’re a team, Haku. And a team can’t work well together when one member closes himself off. If you persist in using this method to obtain what you want, you’re going to endanger us both. You must keep yourself open to me, even if it’s only while we’re on a mission. I need your thoughts and your opinions and reasoning just as much as your blood. Got that?”
He watched as Haku nodded slowly, and as his shoulders slumped.
“This is......hard, Zabuza-san.”
He wanted to say he understood. He wanted to say thank you. He wanted to comfort his friend. But he squashed it. That wouldn’t help Haku’s effort, even if he was any good at that kind of thing. So he grunted, and got up, and went back to his bedroll. As he lay down, bodily and mentally exhausted, he grumbled out an order.
“Go to bed, Haku.” The answer was immediate.
“Goodnight, Zabuza-san.”
And Zabuza privately prayed, to whoever was stupid enough to still listen to him, to please let Haku have one night of dreamless sleep.
~Owari
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I hope you all liked it!!! Leave me a review, tell me how I did....please? Whether you liked it or not, I'd still like the opinions!!! Thank you!!
~Tareacel
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To Sleep, Perchance to Dream
It was odd that there were moments like this…moments where there was nobody to run from, nothing to take shelter from, and no place in particular to go. It was refreshing to simply be able to build a campfire in a wooded clearing off the main path, and sleep under the stars. On this warm night, that’s exactly what the missing-nin Zabuza Momochi and his protégé, Haku, were doing. Or rather, that’s what Haku was doing. Zabuza was still awake.
They’d had a rough go of it the past two days. Their last job had been a botch, and it was only Haku’s quick thinking and Zabuza’s skill at the silent kill that had kept them from being caught by the hunter-nins still hot on their trail. The proceeding run for their literal lives had been exhausting on them both, and more than once Zabuza had wondered if his shorter ward could handle it. But Haku had kept up admirably, taking to the trees at times when Zabuza’s longer strides left him behind. But even when the boy was out of sight, Zabuza knew he was never far away. He hadn’t even noticed when that thought had started to be comforting.
Since when had his protégé become the master? Haku had progressed even beyond Zabuza’s wildest imaginings. His skill with the senbon needles was unsurpassable. The boy was lethal at both long and short distances. And then there was the kekkei genkai. The first time Haku had explained to him, with excitement fairly glowing in his eyes, what the mirrors allowed him to actually do, Zabuza had almost drooled. Such power, and it belonged to him. After all, Haku was his. His tool, his weapon, his trump card, his most trusted adviser, and the closest thing he’d allow to a friend.
Right now, the boy was sleeping. Deeply. It was the first chance they’d had to do more than lightly doze in over 48 hours. But Zabuza couldn’t sleep. He’d gone off to a nearby stream to wash up after an unhurried dinner, and when he’d returned, Haku was already curled up in his bedroll, head pillowed on an arm that was flung up behind his head. The complete and total innocence on the shinobi’s normal mask of a face had come as a complete shock. Now, even though Zabuza’s body begged him for rest, and his eyes stung and threatened to close on him, he couldn’t stop studying that face.
During the day, Haku wore two masks. There was the one everyone else saw, the mask of the hunter-nin, which Haku wore to intimidate and confuse his opponents; but there was another mask too. Zabuza didn’t know when Haku had first started to wear it. When the boy was younger, he’d played and laughed and run like a normal child. In fact, it was one of the things Zabuza had been most proud of. The fact that he’d been able to provide the ostracized, orphaned urchin the latter half of a normal childhood helped him sleep better at night when he’d wondered whether what he was about to do to Haku was right or not.
Still, it wasn’t he who’d told Haku to become such a stoic. It wasn’t he who’d told him to never show emotion off the battlefield or to grow up so fast. That was another mask Haku had assumed on his own, and whatever reason he’d done it hadn’t made itself clear to Zabuza yet.
But in sleep, the mask was gone. And Zabuza took the opportunity offered. Haku’s unguarded face was open and endearing. Beautiful. The swordsman had always been aware of the beauty inherent in the other shinobi. He’d watched him grow up, after all; from child, through the awkward stage when puberty first reared it’s ugly head, and finally into the poised, graceful, deadly being asleep in front of him. Through it all, Haku had possessed a kind of ethereally tragic aura, and it was something that made him altogether untouchable, despite the pretty face and polite smiles.
In truth, lately, Zabuza had come to be slightly wary of his ward. He could never tell what Haku was thinking anymore, and that was a dangerous thing to have in a partner. Haku had become closed off, keeping to himself as often as not, and rarely starting conversations. At first, Zabuza had been offended. Hadn’t the boy always said that he was happiest with him? That he owed him everything? Zabuza had worked himself up into a fine temper, when the nightmare had happened.
He had a policy of never interfering with Haku’s life, except when it was endangered, or was a danger to his own. He’d seen his protégé go through nightmare after nightmare after nightmare over the years, but this one was different. In this one, he never cried out for his mother, or begged his father for his life. This one lacked the usual pleas for forgiveness and the screams of guilt. This one contained his name. And that was how he’d found out that the one thing Haku feared most in the entire world was the death of his mentor.
He’d known how Haku felt about him. For a long time, he’d known. It was a love greater than any lover or child, and a loyalty that far surpassed that of a student for a teacher. Haku looked on him as a savior. The man who’d remade him; given him back his life and convinced him that he had the right to live it. The man who’d wanted him. It was a deeply seated feeling, and frankly, at first, Zabuza had eaten it up. He’d used it to his advantage when he had to, to push the younger Haku to do things that no boy should want to…like kill and skin his own supper. But after the nightmare…it made him nervous.
It hit Zabuza now. The reason for the mask. The withdrawal, the concealing of emotions, all of it stemmed from himself. Haku was a shinobi, and he’d always been perceptive aside from his training. He must have seen the sudden change come over his mentor, and acted accordingly. ….But it was more than that. There was no guilt there. Zabuza studied Haku’s unguarded face again, and found fear there as the boy’s brows drew down, and a slight whimper escaped his lips.
“Zabuza-san….” The once-peaceful face screwed up in pain.
“Zabuza-san…please don’t die.”
Haku was distancing himself. He knew a shinobi’s life was filled with the deaths of comrades. That was something Zabuza had been sure to teach him early on. And the boy was realistic, although Zabuza wasn’t sure that he shouldn’t be miffed that Haku could imagine his death so easily. Haku knew his feelings towards the older man were dangerous, and could be used against him, even as he drew his greatest strength from them. He was endeavoring to find a delicate balance between cutting himself off, and loving too much. Zabuza sighed and frowned. It couldn’t be easy for him, but it was a sound reason, if horrid to think about. Haku was so frightened of losing him that he was pushing himself away to keep their little team working smoothly.
Zabuza wondered if he could help. Maybe if he were gruffer with the boy, ignored him a bit more often…but no. He didn’t want to damage Haku, and there was more than one way to lose someone.
The nightmare took a turn for the worse, but as far as Haku’s nightmares went, this one was still tame. He was tossing and squirming in his sleep, not paralyzed and trembling with fear. His eyes were still screwed shut, not wide open and unseeing….but still. A nightmare was a nightmare, and Zabuza not only wanted sleep, but he wanted Haku to get enough as well. He crawled over and touched his ward’s shoulder lightly.
“Haku.”
He dodged out of the way of the handheld needle that aimed for his throat. …He really should have expected that. Haku was breathing hard and staring at him, the last vestiges of the dream trickling away. With them went the ice in his eyes and the coldness in his face. He blinked, and when he looked at Zabuza again, it was with the unintentional doe-eyes that had first tugged at Zabuza’s broken heartstrings.
“Zabuza-san…” he breathed out, and one last shudder ripped its way through his body. For a small second, he was the boy the swordsman had watched grow up. Then the mask descended, and all of it was gone.
“I’m sorry I disturbed your sleep, Zabuza-san.” There was that infuriatingly polite smile. “I hope I wasn’t too much trouble to wake…..” he trailed off at the look on his mentor’s face. To Zabuza’s credit, he kept the smirk off his face when he saw the fear in Haku’s guarded eyes.
“Listen, you little idiot!” Zabuza grabbed his shoulders, more roughly than he’d ever handled the boy before. “You were having a nightmare! You don’t have to apologize for that, Haku. That’s something you can’t control.” The urge hit him, and he followed through, for once, pulling the startled shinobi into a fierce hug.
“Don’t apologize for a nightmare, ok? Don’t make it seem like your every breath is a burden to me. Because it’s not.” His voice was soft, and Haku looked up in surprise. Zabuza brushed back his bangs, like he’d done when his ward was much younger, and was startled to see a soft blush blossom from the action. He let Haku go, but kept a hand on his shoulder.
“Zabuza-san—”
“I know what you’re doing, Haku.” He sighed when the boy tensed. “I….approve of it.” That had been surprisingly hard to say. “But there have to be some limits.”
“….Limits?” Haku was confused although his face didn’t show it.
“Yes, limits. We’re a team, Haku. And a team can’t work well together when one member closes himself off. If you persist in using this method to obtain what you want, you’re going to endanger us both. You must keep yourself open to me, even if it’s only while we’re on a mission. I need your thoughts and your opinions and reasoning just as much as your blood. Got that?”
He watched as Haku nodded slowly, and as his shoulders slumped.
“This is......hard, Zabuza-san.”
He wanted to say he understood. He wanted to say thank you. He wanted to comfort his friend. But he squashed it. That wouldn’t help Haku’s effort, even if he was any good at that kind of thing. So he grunted, and got up, and went back to his bedroll. As he lay down, bodily and mentally exhausted, he grumbled out an order.
“Go to bed, Haku.” The answer was immediate.
“Goodnight, Zabuza-san.”
And Zabuza privately prayed, to whoever was stupid enough to still listen to him, to please let Haku have one night of dreamless sleep.
~Owari
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I hope you all liked it!!! Leave me a review, tell me how I did....please? Whether you liked it or not, I'd still like the opinions!!! Thank you!!
~Tareacel