Chapter Text
With a flick of his wrist, Haku smoothed out some wrinkles on his kimono sleeve.
A soft smile played on painted lips.
He was oh so very fond of misdirection and subterfuge.
Indulging his love for dressing up and subsequently confusing people and their misconceptions about gender roles and appearances might be one of Haku’s most treasured pastimes.
In moments like those, clad in silk and finery, face painted to enhance his more feminine features, he felt like a human being instead of a finely honed weapon.
When he hid his deadly edges behind layers of fabric and makeup, he felt young.
Alive.
And for once closer to his physical age than whenever he donned the many masks his ninja career forced on him.
He stepped out of his role as Haku, lone survivor of the Yuki clan and into the shoes of whomever he wanted to be at the moment.
It was a relief, time and time again to just be.
Life had not been kind to Haku, taking and taking from him over and over again.
He had been forced to grow and mature far before his time.
The last member of the illusive Yuki clan had been forced to take up the blade and learn to defend himself lest someone snuffed out his life as well.
It just so happened that Haku was very good at being a ninja.
Even if he loathed causing unnecessary pain, absolutely despised hurting innocents.
He was good at it.
Quick and efficient.
Had become all too good at detaching himself from a situation.
And sometimes he loathed himself for it as well.
If he was completely honest with himself, Haku still could not believe his luck.
This whole situation felt like a lucid dream, even if it grew closer to reality with every hour.
To find a solution that involved the least amount of violence was something he could have only fantasised about up until now.
And yet here they were.
His master who in any other situation would enjoy the thrill of a good fight had felt compelled to go down a different path.
They were planning to dethrone Gato and his tyrannical regime, freeing Wave country in the process.
Their own little revolution.
Haku supposed that with so many parallels between Wave country and the situation back in Kirigakure, his master was bound to feel kinship of sorts.
If they could overthrow one tyrant, then why stop there?
Before they had high-tailed it out of Kirigakure and become missing nin, Zabuza-san had already tried to assassinate their blood-crazed Mizukage, though this first attempt had failed.
But now that the two of them had been hearing more and more rumours of another revolutionary movement in the Bloody Mist, one with more people and resources than just two people, his master had fallen into near obsession to raise funds and join them.
If there was even the smallest chance for Zabuza to win back his home, Haku knew that he would shed tears and blood to see it realized.
And the ice user would support him.
He owed Zabuza-san too much to leave him to his own devices when his master was everything but level-headed.
It had been a very long time since Momochi Zabuza had allowed himself to feel hope.
Haku would see to it that it was not snuffed out.
Tsunami weaved through the sparse crowd populating their town’s rundown marketplace, on the lookout for their co-conspirators. Without looking back, she knew that Sakura-san was hot on her heels.
The young kunoichi had described the appearance of their unlikely partners to her beforehand, with a warning that they might be in disguise.
As such, she was on the lookout but held no illusions that it would be her to spot them. She had never met them before and if an undercover shinobi walked past her, she would simply not notice.
But she held trust in the young kunoichi at her back and she would extend this trust to the duo who had against all odds decided to help them.
A subtle tug at her sleeve and a whispered “they are over there” had her glance back at Sakura.
The teenage girl had come to a halt, wide-eyed, as she gazed at a teenager her age, dressed up in a tasteful teal kimono with blue and white detailing of bamboo, clouds and birds in flight printed on it. The obi was of a darker shade of blue and in Tsunami’s opinion, completed the outfit nicely.
She could very well see why Sakura had needed a few moments to get her features under control.
With a tiny smile on her lips, the older woman looked on.
They were simply adorable.
Her dark eyes met the calculating stare of what must be their second co-conspirator.
The man was tall, most of his features were obscured by an artfully draped scarf, the rest of him clad in clothes that would blend in seamlessly with the crowd in the market place.
If it were not for his oh so sharp eyes, she would have never expected him to be anything but a citizen of Wave country.
In a way, she found this skill quite remarkable if scary.
Nevertheless.
With but a few steps, Tsunami and Sakura reached their partners, moving on as one group seamlessly.
Time to get to work.
The turning point was reached when they drifted closer to the now dilapidated harbour.
The once bustling heart of their town, the centre of commerce, was now desolate and mostly devoid of people, the citizens keeping away out of fear after Gato sank the second fishing boat that left without his explicit permission.
So much needless death…
Fearmongering.
A way to keep them trapped and miserable, unable to alert their neighbouring countries to the usurper that had dug his claws into their home, bleeding them dry and working them to the bone for no reward but their life’s.
The only ones still wandering the harbour were Gato’s hired muscle.
And it was thanks to their careless words that their boss would be brought down.
Not that they knew it yet.
Dark satisfaction curled in her gut as Tsunami crouched behind a stack of wooden crates, her shinobi allies beside her, listening as two unconcerned thugs spilled the information they would use to pave the road to Gato’s demise.
And what a demise it would be.
She glanced at her fellow revolutionaries, taking in their reactions as Gato’s end goal was oh so clearly laid out before them.
Next to her, Sakura-san looked into the middle-distance unseeing, jade green eyes calculating what this newest revelation meant to their plans.
The other teen sat frozen like a statue, expression caught somewhere between incredulity and cold anger.
Zabuza-san, the last of their group, met her inquiring gaze with his own, eyes sharp and a bloodthirsty smile barely hidden behind the scarf of his disguise. Despite his apparent ease upon their discovery, his shoulders were set rigidly, betraying his own displeasure.
Tsunami met him with her own smile, all jagged edges and baying for blood, for revenge.
His eyes lit up in savage delight.
They were connected by a common goal now.
And in this moment the two adults reached an unspoken agreement.
Anything to get rid of the slippery tyrant.
A shiver raced down the infamous copy ninja’s back and the Jonin took a careful look around, looking for a possible cause.
But he found nothing.
The bridge stretched before him, continuously in motion as constructions continued.
Workers scurried back and forth, lugging wooden planks and metal nails to wherever they were needed.
Nothing out of the ordinary stood out to him, neither to his sharp senses nor a quick pulse of chakra sensing.
There was no reason for his instincts to kick up a fuss.
And yet…
Kakashi had a bad feeling that something was brewing on the horizon.
Something that he would not see coming.
Hopefully his students were not involved.
Speaking of which.
Seeing as his most troublesome student was off helping Tsunami-san and had already managed tree walking, he had felt justified to put the boys back to work.
They were currently under the supervision of one of his shadow clones, safely tucked away in the woods and probably throwing fits at having to run up trees.
A smirk was hidden behind his mask.
The thought of their frustration brought him joy, as they in turn frustrated him day in, day out.
It served them well to deal with a taste of their own bitter medicine for once.
And maybe, unlikely as it was, it would teach the boys patience.
Though Kakashi wasn’t getting his hopes up.
He was well aware of his own inadequacy as a teacher and the thought of them learning much from him was laughable.
Kakashi would honestly be happy if he kept them alive long enough to foist them off onto the next Chunin exam that came their way.
That was his goal so far, anyways.
With a put-upon sigh, the copy nin focused back on his beloved book, senses sharp and mind already bored of bodyguard duty.
He would be glad when this mission was over.
There was a dichotomy to Zabuza that he was well aware of himself.
Of the many people that had met him, though less that had made it out alive, all had commented on it in one way or another.
Some found him to be an eccentric loner, someone of few words and fewer expressions.
Others saw him as an easily riled grump with a tongue just as sharp as his sword.
In a way, he was both.
Or, to be more precise, he was a damn good shinobi with a just as fucked up psyche.
He had never been taught healthy ways to express and compartmentalize emotions and thoughts and he had only realized that when it was more than a little late for that.
His mental and emotional wellbeing was fucked and a life on the run did not contribute all that much positively either.
The one thing that had kept him going was Haku, his little snowflake who relied on him just as much.
The mere possibility to regain some semblance of stability and order, if just for Haku, spurred him on.
Right into another revolution.
And the most unlikely thing of all:
He was having fun planning the downfall of someone he knew he was actually capable of taking down.
It was a total reversal from the last time he had planned a coup.
Though their methods also differed greatly.
No straight-out assassinations planned for now.
If the roundabout way of dethroning the slimy tyrant made Haku happy and kept Zabuza entertained, he was all for it.
That he and his apprentice got help from a Konoha Genin of all people?
Unexpected but not unappreciated.
The little waterlily was entertaining in her own way, with her thirst for knowledge and her shrewd mind.
He would have to look out for her when she grew into her potential.
And now another variable had entered their plan.
The woman, Tsunami, with a backbone of steel and bloodlust hiding in the corners of her inky dark eyes.
Her drive was admirable, even more so for being a civilian with remarkedly fewer skills to defend herself.
As such, he made a split-second decision.
Before their group split apart at the edges of the town, Zabuza halted the woman with quick gesture.
Eyes like the depths of the ocean looked up at him, calm and composed as he had ever seen her.
With a flick of his wrist, Zabuza unsheathed one of the short blades he always wore on his person, normally concealed from view.
The wrapped handle of the dagger was held out to Tsunami, the deep blue colour a near matching tone to her hair colour.
Their eyes met, hers inquisitive, searching for his reasons behind this sudden gesture.
His voice was gruff as he explained, his answer clipped short.
“So you have something to protect yourself as well. Can’t let a revolutionary run around unarmed.”
She nodded her understanding, a soft smile on her lips.
“My thanks, shinobi-san. I appreciate the gesture greatly.”
Haku and Sakura both were meanwhile too bewildered by the maybe-possibly-flirting they were currently witnessing.
Unaware of their respective charges reactions, the adults never saw the wide-eyed looks exchanged between them.
Nor the mischievous smiles.