Folded Hands Chapter 1, a naruto fanfic

Folded Hands, Chapter One

Pairings: Zabuza/Haku, possibly others later

Note: This story takes place in a semi-alternate universe. The background is that the world is divided into several countries (like in Naruto) but there aren't ninja villages, really.

The terms "ninja" and "nin" are used loosely here.

Also, I made Haku a little older than he was in the anime. I mean, come on. He's like gotta be at least 17.

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Zabuza was nothing but a harsh man. At the age of twenty-four, he made his living as an assassin and a doer of no good. The water country was full of criminals; some were his targets, others his clients. He had worked alone for several years, and he enjoyed solitude and freedom.

His last job had brought him to an area near the village Miyuki which was known for its slave trade. Zabuza had little interest in slaves—he would have enjoyed an apprentice more. His own water-manipulating abilities and physical prowess made him an ideal teacher, if it were not for his temper. He wished, sometimes, when he passed by temples, that he could have a student just to pass on his techniques, and maybe to take away his loneliness. His antisocial behavior ended that small dream, and Zabuza was mostly content to simply live and die, doing as he wished.

There was an auction that day, though, and he stopped to watch for a while.

It was a rainy day. He saw through the misty air that the auction area was packed with bidders, mostly middle aged men who were looking for cheap field help or apprentices. Similarly, most of the slaves up for auction were boys at the end of their teen years.

The auctioneer began to call for the next slave.

"This next one is a boy named Haku," he said, motioning to a young man with long black hair, his head down. The rain had soaked through his grey clothing, but he fought not to shiver.

A few bidders talked amongst themselves nearby.

"That's a girl!"

"Well, the auctioneer said it was a boy."

"The program said that only boys would be offered today anyway."

Zabuza knew that the crowd would have been a little different if girls had been offered, and also that buying a girl that day would be considered "lucky"—the price would probably be lower than on the days that the local brothels were present.

The ruckus reached the auctioneer, and he squinted at Haku before asking him a question in a low tone. Haku kept his eyes to the floor and answered quietly, and the auctioneer said, "Yes, this one is a boy." He started to read from the description he'd been given.

"Haku, age seventeen, price 200."

200? Zabuza thought. Most of the others were going for at least 1000. This also caused a ruckus, and the auctioneer shouted over the many bidders who wanted the chance to buy such a cheap slave.

"It seems that he killed his last master. Drowned him, and broke his neck to be safe." The auctioneer sized up Haku's thin body and laughed. "Don't know how, though. Maybe he didn't feed him enough."

He edged closer to Haku and asked him, "Did you kill your last master?"

The boy cast his eyes towards the auctioneer without looking at him and said, "Yes, I did." His voice was soft and hopeless, showing no shame or pride in the murder he had committed.

"There you have it. Two hundred for a slave badly in need of training." This earned a few laughs from the crowd.

Zabuza pondered. None of the bidders were interested anymore, and he certainly had enough money to through away a measly two hundred on a slave. He still wondered how such a spare child could have killed a grown man.

He knew, though, that there would be little good in purchasing a slave.

The auctioneer became a little annoyed when no one bidded on Haku. He had apparently decided to keep the audience entertained by deriding the young man, though.

"So," he started in an amused tone. "Is there anything you can do?"

Haku kept his eyes down. "Not really." he said in a dejected voice.

"Then what did your last master use you for?"

His only response was the slight slumping of his shoulders. He didn't answer.

"Hm? That bad?" the auctioneer chuckled. "Well, you do look an awful lot like a girl…"

Several other men in the crowd laughed at Haku's expense, and Zabuza continued to watch passively.

The auctioneer turned back to the crowd. "Alright, I'll lower the price. One hundred and fifty for a slave badly in need of training. Pretty face! Doesn't put up much of a fight!" He turned to Haku. "Say, what did your master do to make you kill him? You really don't seem like you have much in you."

Haku kept his eyes averted, not seeking help from the crowd. The auctioneer was desperate by then, and he said, "Alright! Tough crowd today. One hundred, final offer. And, whoever buys him can order him to tell me just what it was that he did!"

The auctioneer paced around the stage, and Zabuza reconsidered. If the boy could cook, at least, then he'd be worth THAT much. One hundred could buy him a new shirt at best.

But still, there was nothing about him, nothing special. The young man looked ready to die.

The auctioneer snapped at Haku. "Help me out here." He grabbed his grey robe and shook him. "You're really not worth anything, then, are you?"

"I guess not."

This response earned him a hard shove to the wet floor of the stage, but he stood again and kept his eyes down as he was supposed to.

Zabuza had always had keen eyes—hell, in his line of work, that was a necessity—so he noticed the slave's eyes traveling surreptitiously towards the auctioneer's feet. The rain water around his feet suddenly formed a smooth sheet and he slipped in the muddy water, twisting his ankle.

Zabuza's eyes widened in surprise. That boy is a water nin.

Haku smiled ever so slightly and then forced the dejected look back to his face as the auctioneer stood and cursed.

"Is there anyone out there who wants this kid?" He called out irritably. "He's just going to hang for his crime if no one buys him."

Zabuza had never been the type to say, "don't waste food" or "don't waste money" or "don't waste life", but at the moment all that he could think about was that little act of defiance, the act that no one had seen or understood. If the boy was a water nin, then Zabuza could train him, make him stronger, and use him for his work. It didn't matter that other slaves there would hang, or be killed in other ways, if they were unsellable.

It was not out of kindness that Zabuza decided to buy the slave. That would never change.

He raised his hand then, called the auctioneer's attention to himself. The man stared at him for a moment and asked, "Man with the bandaged face? Are you bidding on this slave?"

Zabuza grunted. "Looks like it. Just one hundred, right?"

The auctioneer's face lit up, and he asked the crowd, "Any other bids? No? Sold!"

As soon as the word was said, Haku looked up at his new master. A little bit of surprise brightened his expression, and made him look confused, afraid, and expectant. This man was younger than the others had been, and looked stronger.

Haku knew that any man willing to buy a murderer like himself must have belonged to the underside of life. His apparent strength reinforced this—the man was probably a murderer or criminal himself.

The auctioneer pulled him offstage and back to the hall where the sold slaves were held. He was told to wait for his master to come claim him.

Haku sat down and folded his hands neatly over his knees.

I wonder how long I'll stay with this master, he thought. He kept his eyes downcast and listened to the other slaves around him. Some cried, and some sat in a position identical to Haku's not moving nor feeling.

Minutes later, he saw the shadow of his new master at his feet, and he looked up. The man had hard, dark eyes, skin darker than Haku's, short black hair, and the bottom half of his face was covered in bandages. Haku guessed that the man wore the bandages to hide his face rather than to protect an injury.

Haku also saw that the man was carrying a large sword, and he did not know what to think of that.

He watched his master's face, waiting for a command. The man studied Haku for a moment and said, "Let's go."

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The rainfall had turned into a storm as Zabuza lead the kid to his temporary home. Haku was able to keep up with him most of the time; Zabuza glanced over his shoulder every so often to make sure he hadn't run off or gotten lost in the crowd. Each time, he only saw the young man following him, his eyes on his back and his expression loose.

He chose not to talk to him during the walk home. There was nothing worth saying to him, really. He had forgotten the kid's name, but he could ask that later. He wasn't in a hurry to talk to the kid or learn about him.

They arrived at Zabuza's small house before nightfall, and Haku silently followed him inside after he had walked in. He took off his shoes and noticed that he was dripping water all over the floor, but his master said nothing about it.

Instead, the man grunted, "Stay here," as he crossed the main room of the house, then entered the bedroom and shut the door. Haku wondered if his master had thought of clothing for him, or if he intended to make him stay in his wet clothes, or…

He shuddered as he remembered his last master. He knew what that man would have had him do in such a situation.

A small puddle of rainwater had formed around his feet when his master exited the bedroom, wearing dry clothing and carrying a few towels. He handed one to Haku, and said, "There's a washroom on the right." He pointed to the door. "Go wash up, and tell me when you're done."

Nothing about clothing. Haku said, "Yes, master," and followed the command he'd been given. Zabuza liked the sound of that—and he was glad he didn't have to tell the slave what he should call him.

The washroom consisted of a bathtub, a sink, a mirror, a cabinet and a toilet. Haku quickly took this all in, and was silently glad that this room looked cleaner than the rest of the house. He removed the wet grey robes he was wearing, leaving them on the floor as he started his bath. He hoped that his master meant that he could run a bath, and not that he was just supposed to clean himself with a towel. When the man did not come to the door and shout at him, Haku decided that he had made the right choice.

He bathed quickly and wrapped the towel around his waist. After inspecting the main room of the house and the kitchen, he walked up to his master's door and knocked softly.

"Are you done?" was the response.

"Yes, master."

Haku heard shuffling noises, and his master opened the door. He noticed that his master's room was messier than the main room, but tried not to make judgments from that.

Zabuza was surprised to see that he looked even better after the bath—he hadn't thought the slave had been so bad off when he was dirty—and decided that he really had been a good buy. Attractive slaves usually belonged to the rich, after all. If he actually had behavioral problems, Zabuza knew how to correct them.

He left the slave standing in the doorway as he looked in his closet for suitable clothing. The kid was a full foot shorter than he was, and he knew that none of his clothing would fit him. There were, however, a few articles of clothing left in the closet from the house's previous owners, and one of them was a yukata that looked about Haku's size. It was also pink, and Zabuza knew that it may have once belonged to a girl, but he doubted that he slave cared.

Zabuza handed the garment to Haku. "Go change," he said and shut the door.

Haku looked down at the yukata for a moment, glad that his master had given him clothing after all. He knew that he had taken a risk when he admitted at the auction that he had no skills, as unskilled slaves were often used for carnal purposes.

Zabuza heard another soft knock on his door a few moments later, and he saw that the kid had in fact changed into the yukata. He looked fairly girlish, but it was only a temporary solution so Zabuza simply filed the thought into the "funny shit" part of his mind.

He realized that the young man had no place to sleep (not in his room, at least) so he gestured to the living room.

"There's a couch in there. Clean off a place for yourself. There are also some blankets in a closet in the hallway." He pointed to the closet, and then looked into Haku's eyes.

"If you run off, I will find you. If you try to attack me, I will retaliate. If you ever disobey me, I will beat you." He saw that the slave's expression had not changed. "Now go to sleep," he ordered as he shut his door.

Haku said softly, "Yes, master," and Zabuza heard him through the door.

I'll ask him about his abilities tomorrow. Maybe I'll be able to sell him off somewhere if I was wrong about him.

As he fell asleep, Haku curled up on the couch, hungry and nervous. He wondered what his first real order would be.

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