Haku was completely involved in his training, almost unaware of the things going on around him. The water around him rose and fell with the gentle movements of his hands, shooting skyward and cascading down around him in a gentle spray. He took care with his motions, moving with the grace required for such an intricate dance.
The effeminate shinobi slowly began to split is focus, continuing the patterns he began as he started to move the water further away. It was a good way, he had found, for helping him to control his kekkei genkai in battle. Training with a split focus had enabled him to train to new heights with his bloodline. And when he finished with water, he intended to move on to ice, which was more difficult in the presence of so much water, especially when the weather was so warm.
Naturally, Haku was so involved that he didn't notice he had an audience.
Zetsu was entranced. He'd seen Kisame in action before, flexing his abilities, showing off his true prowess and strength. It was a sight to marvel at, a time to stand in awe and perhaps even terror before the fury of nature that the Mist-nin was able to command. Kisame was a predator, and his power was as terrible and destructive as the tsunamis that rolled up from the depths of the ocean and shook the earth to its core.
But this shinobi? This one brought to mind a shimmering waterfall with their intricate motions and subtle manipulations. There was certainly the potential for great strength, should it be brought to bear.... but it was the splash and dazzle that swept him away. This kind of art required a delicate touch--and despite working occasionally with Deidara and Sasori, he had never developed definite opinions on the subject--and a practiced eye for fine detail and control. Not just Chuunin, then.... The full power and capacity of this stranger's chakra he couldn't yet assess, but the control and manipulation of it was
( ... )
Haku called forth the water dragon, sent it spiraling out across the lake and back as he moved closer to the shoreline. He had always been fond of the water dragon, despite the creature being a jutsu and nothing more. There were times when Haku was almost certain that the dragon was like his own personal guardian. Of course, he had grown out of that ages ago
( ... )
Oh, now that was interesting.... He'd seen the water dragon coming from Kisame, too. But again, substance and style, strength and grace.... The two seemed to have quite different styles, at least at first glance--it was readily apparent that he would want to move fast and stay moving if he had to engage. Do something to trip them up or incapacitate them, if only for a few moments to gain the upper hand.... He slipped his blowpipe into the pouch strapped to his leg, preloaded with a poisoned senbon
( ... )
Haku paused in his movements as he heard someone land on the shoreline behind him, his current patterns half finished. With care, he turned to face whoever had been watching, mentally berating himself for being so involved that he had never noticed the stranger approach. He didn't drop the patterns he had been working on.
The effeminate shinobi found himself looking the stranger up and down, taking note of what he saw before him. Kusagakure hitai-ate, scratched in the manner of the nuke-nin, no shirt...But such nice abs~, a plant, a fly trap, that seemed to sprout from the shoulders. Explains the lack of a shirt. Haku finally settled for locking his warm brown eyes with the strangers yellow ones.
What a strange shinobi, he thought.
"May I help you?" Haku asked, finally, his voice warm, friendly, and more than curious. The young Hunter was always open and friendly, unless Zabuza's order led him to be otherwise.
So, their patterns stayed up even when distracted.... That was a mark of good mental discipline. And also a factor that would drain chakra faster, he noted. Not an intelligent thing to do for a shinobi that had been surprised--if they had hostile intentions, he probably would have already been attacked, or noticed them preparing a defense
( ... )
Haku offered a faint smile to the shinobi as the ice strained on his control. With reluctance, he released the patterns he had been weaving. Better for him to control the ice's release than to allow it to break free on its own. He'd done that once and the results hadn't been all that pretty.
The question surprised the young shinobi. The answer wasn't something that he could easily give, not when he and Zabuza relied upon each other to maintain the secrecy of their work and missions. After all, their relations with the Mizukage were tenuous. Were the leader of Kirigakure to discover their presence, no matter where it was, there would be Hunters on their tails. Even with Haku's Hunter training, he wasn't sure that they could avoid them. He did settle on a response, though, a safer response...
"I do a lot of traveling," Haku told the stranger. "Is it really so strange to find all different types far away from where you'd think they would be?"
Hm. Smart one, wasn't he? Letting ice decide what to do for itself in that state would probably result in a high-speed explosion of shards that would be trouble for them and the plants both. He may have had medical training, but that didn't mean he wanted to deal with that sort of preventable accident.
"Not so strange." Zetsu agreed, complacent enough--just look at where he was from, after all--as he shrugged. "Though villages often keep a tight leash on shinobi of such valuable stock." That was what was usually the case, anyway. Though if he recalled correctly, a good number of the Hyotons had been slaughtered some time ago, during and after the war.... This boy looked too young to have even been born yet, much less have taken part in it. But again, there was a point to be made about how looks could deceive--didn't Sasori look like a young teenager, after all, if even that? Hadn't Orochimaru, that snake, kept his youthful looks without needing to preserve himself
( ... )
"You would think that, ne?" Haku asked as he stepped carefully back onto the shore. The ice melted in his wake, leaving the lake as pristine as it had been before he had begun his training. "But sadly, some don't appreciate such value."
Haku was now standing face to face with the stranger, or as close to it as he could be. The effeminate shinobi was at least a head taller than the Grass-nin, so really, he was getting a closer look at the man's chest and neck. And he did like what he saw...
Haku had to look up to maintain eye contact, but it wasn't really that bad. "Not once in my travels have I ever come across a shinobi such as yourself."
The comment earned Haku a soft laugh, genuinely amused despite its undercurrent of ice. "If they ever do, it's too little, too late." Because it was true, wasn't it? Itachi had been considered a bloodline, not a person, from what Zetsu knew of the situation. And what had that earned Konoha? An almost extinct kekkai genkai that they had formerly taken for granted. Sasori's incredible artistry hadn't been appreciated, so he had taken his considerable skills of puppetry to where they were valued and useful
( ... )
"Oh, believe me, they learned their lesson," Haku stated ruefully, thinking back to when he had killed those who threatened his very existence. It was something that he didn't bring up too often, preferring to keep those particular memories buried underneath the more pleasant ones of his present. "They learned it a little too late."
Haku looked visibly disappointed to hear that there were no others like the shinobi before him. While he couldn't ascertain, at this moment, exactly what his skills were, the young shinobi was sure that the stranger before him was powerful, probably more of a challenge than he himself could ever hope to take. And yet... there was something exotic about him.
"That's a shame," Haku told Zetsu. "Though it does make you more exotic than you had been a moment before."
"Good." He was perhaps a little too glad to hear it.... But then, he personally didn't blame himself. After all, who wouldn't be glad to hear that someone else had freed themselves from oppression? "Better late than never." Even if it was just in their dying moments, at least they would have seen the light once. It had been that way with his classmates and coworkers. With the Kage too.... It was the only time he'd ever taught anyone--Tobi hadn't entered the Grass-nin's life yet. After all, who would want to learn from someone like him
( ... )
"Those of us wise enough to use our heads never wish our lives upon others," Haku pointed out as he turned and sat down on the shore of the lake, his feet tucked into the water. Truly, he wasn't fond of the idea of having his training time interrupted. But he was speaking with such a curious stranger!
The effeminate shinobi looked back over his shoulder at Zetsu. If he seemed unconcerned about turning his back to the other shinobi, it was with good reason. The way Haku figured it, if he was known to be an ice master, the other would have attempted to draw him away from the water were he seeking a fight. That he didn't gave Haku an immediate advantage should any battle occur. The Hunter-nin had an almost unlimited supply of tools literally at his feet. And better than that, he had the means by which to use them.
"What brings a shinobi such as yourself to a place like this?"
Zetsu nodded at the assessment, glad for once to have a sensible companion. Sometimes, the others seemed too focused on bickering to get things done properly.... The clear view of the young man's back presented was admittedly quite a surprise; was he crazy, careless, or just confident? Probably the latter, considering that they were so close to the water. He could draw up the entire lake to use to his advantage. But still, he didn't know that Zetsu had the entire forest and its creatures to aid him.... It would have been an interesting fight, but one he didn't want to start.
Instead, he just padded over to join the younger shinboi and sat nearby on a flat rock, where he wouldn't crush any of the plants fringing the shoreline. "We're just in the area for a mission." He shrugged and leaned forward to scoop a bit of water from the lake, drizzling it over his leaves; the faint, sweet scent of nectar started to perfume the air. "And yourself?" A thoughtful pause. "What is your name, anyway?"
Haku offered Zetsu a smile, a gift he rarely offered strangers who called him at his game. There was just something about the older shinobi that put him at ease, though he couldn't place what it was.
"I'm passing through with my sensei," Haku replied easily to the question posed. "As for my name..." He trailed off, looking out at the lake in contemplation.
Zetsu smiled back, surprised but undeniably grateful. He rarely got so anti-climatic a reception from any but nature.... Haku, hmm? The name seemed fitting enough, even with their quite brief acquaintance. "Our name is Zetsu." Again, he'd learned over the years that there was very little point in lying when it was so difficult to conceal his identity. It was enough just to go unnoticed for so damnably long when he had to do his work inside Konoha's village limits.
He sat quietly for a moment, trailing a hand through the still somewhat chilled water as he watched Haku. It was an unusually meditative look for him, even somewhat admiring. Whether it was of Haku himself, the training he had been doing, or something else entirely, though, was difficult to say. "Your sensei trains you well."
Haku watched Zetsu for a few moments, deigning not to speak. In part, he needed to think of how to respond. Referring to Zabuza as his sensei was an easy matter, but the idea of Zabuza training him was almost laughable. The Demon had certainly taught Haku the basics, but beyond that he had either left him to his own devices, or given him the means to learn. But Haku had still mostly figured things out on his own.
"My sensei does what he can," Haku replied at last. "What he can't teach me, he finds others to do so. I do thank you for the compliment, though."
"Even more impressive, then; learning from many sources requires much learning yourself." Zetsu conceded. After all, there would inevitably be gaps, inconsistencies, overlapping training, things that were overlooked..... It just wasn't a good system if the student wasn't good enough to tie it all together.
"We benefited little from teachers, ourself." He smiled wryly. He'd probably call his self-training.... probably two thirds, if not more, of all the training he'd received. And it wasn't as if his training was up to the usual standards, given who and what he was.... No, after the accident, they'd--at least, in his eyes--neglected and set him back as much as possible. They hadn't wanted him to graduate....
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The effeminate shinobi slowly began to split is focus, continuing the patterns he began as he started to move the water further away. It was a good way, he had found, for helping him to control his kekkei genkai in battle. Training with a split focus had enabled him to train to new heights with his bloodline. And when he finished with water, he intended to move on to ice, which was more difficult in the presence of so much water, especially when the weather was so warm.
Naturally, Haku was so involved that he didn't notice he had an audience.
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But this shinobi? This one brought to mind a shimmering waterfall with their intricate motions and subtle manipulations. There was certainly the potential for great strength, should it be brought to bear.... but it was the splash and dazzle that swept him away. This kind of art required a delicate touch--and despite working occasionally with Deidara and Sasori, he had never developed definite opinions on the subject--and a practiced eye for fine detail and control. Not just Chuunin, then.... The full power and capacity of this stranger's chakra he couldn't yet assess, but the control and manipulation of it was ( ... )
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The effeminate shinobi found himself looking the stranger up and down, taking note of what he saw before him. Kusagakure hitai-ate, scratched in the manner of the nuke-nin, no shirt...But such nice abs~, a plant, a fly trap, that seemed to sprout from the shoulders. Explains the lack of a shirt. Haku finally settled for locking his warm brown eyes with the strangers yellow ones.
What a strange shinobi, he thought.
"May I help you?" Haku asked, finally, his voice warm, friendly, and more than curious. The young Hunter was always open and friendly, unless Zabuza's order led him to be otherwise.
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The question surprised the young shinobi. The answer wasn't something that he could easily give, not when he and Zabuza relied upon each other to maintain the secrecy of their work and missions. After all, their relations with the Mizukage were tenuous. Were the leader of Kirigakure to discover their presence, no matter where it was, there would be Hunters on their tails. Even with Haku's Hunter training, he wasn't sure that they could avoid them. He did settle on a response, though, a safer response...
"I do a lot of traveling," Haku told the stranger. "Is it really so strange to find all different types far away from where you'd think they would be?"
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"Not so strange." Zetsu agreed, complacent enough--just look at where he was from, after all--as he shrugged. "Though villages often keep a tight leash on shinobi of such valuable stock." That was what was usually the case, anyway. Though if he recalled correctly, a good number of the Hyotons had been slaughtered some time ago, during and after the war.... This boy looked too young to have even been born yet, much less have taken part in it. But again, there was a point to be made about how looks could deceive--didn't Sasori look like a young teenager, after all, if even that? Hadn't Orochimaru, that snake, kept his youthful looks without needing to preserve himself ( ... )
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Haku was now standing face to face with the stranger, or as close to it as he could be. The effeminate shinobi was at least a head taller than the Grass-nin, so really, he was getting a closer look at the man's chest and neck. And he did like what he saw...
Haku had to look up to maintain eye contact, but it wasn't really that bad. "Not once in my travels have I ever come across a shinobi such as yourself."
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Haku looked visibly disappointed to hear that there were no others like the shinobi before him. While he couldn't ascertain, at this moment, exactly what his skills were, the young shinobi was sure that the stranger before him was powerful, probably more of a challenge than he himself could ever hope to take. And yet... there was something exotic about him.
"That's a shame," Haku told Zetsu. "Though it does make you more exotic than you had been a moment before."
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The effeminate shinobi looked back over his shoulder at Zetsu. If he seemed unconcerned about turning his back to the other shinobi, it was with good reason. The way Haku figured it, if he was known to be an ice master, the other would have attempted to draw him away from the water were he seeking a fight. That he didn't gave Haku an immediate advantage should any battle occur. The Hunter-nin had an almost unlimited supply of tools literally at his feet. And better than that, he had the means by which to use them.
"What brings a shinobi such as yourself to a place like this?"
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Instead, he just padded over to join the younger shinboi and sat nearby on a flat rock, where he wouldn't crush any of the plants fringing the shoreline. "We're just in the area for a mission." He shrugged and leaned forward to scoop a bit of water from the lake, drizzling it over his leaves; the faint, sweet scent of nectar started to perfume the air. "And yourself?" A thoughtful pause. "What is your name, anyway?"
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"I'm passing through with my sensei," Haku replied easily to the question posed. "As for my name..." He trailed off, looking out at the lake in contemplation.
"My name is Haku. What about you?"
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He sat quietly for a moment, trailing a hand through the still somewhat chilled water as he watched Haku. It was an unusually meditative look for him, even somewhat admiring. Whether it was of Haku himself, the training he had been doing, or something else entirely, though, was difficult to say. "Your sensei trains you well."
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"My sensei does what he can," Haku replied at last. "What he can't teach me, he finds others to do so. I do thank you for the compliment, though."
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"We benefited little from teachers, ourself." He smiled wryly. He'd probably call his self-training.... probably two thirds, if not more, of all the training he'd received. And it wasn't as if his training was up to the usual standards, given who and what he was.... No, after the accident, they'd--at least, in his eyes--neglected and set him back as much as possible. They hadn't wanted him to graduate....
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