Interlude: Revenant, Part 1
He was a man without illusions.
Even here, at the end of all things, he refused to lie to himself. He would not deny the totality of his failure. He would not offer excuses or justifications. He would not conjure visions of his past or try to paint over the void with his own imagination. He had not spent his life gazing into the abyss only to flinch from the darkness now.
He could not claim to be without regrets. He had sacrificed his dreams in order to live in the real world. He had failed to save a single life. He had mastered the art of survival but never found anything worth surviving
for. Still, he had his pride. He had died in battle as a true shinobi, and he had died fighting to protect his village and his lord. That was enough.
Wasn't it?
It didn't matter, he decided. Strong or weak, good or evil, proud or humble… it made no difference when the Reaper came calling. He knew that better than anyone. The choices he had made in life meant nothing now.
It was time to go. He drew his sword—his key to death's gates, his warrior's soul—and held it out as if pouring all of his will into the edge. If he was to join his honoured ancestors in the abyssal depths, he would show them he was worthy of their legacy of battle. Or if, more likely, he was to be cast down into the hells to which his countless enemies had condemned him with their dying breaths… then he would teach the fiends below what it truly meant to be a demon.
He steadied himself one last time...
Please don't go.
Nothing but that voice, so far away and yet so close, could have shaken his resolve.
Not yet. Not like this.
The warrior's soul trembled.
You can't die here!
Haku's voice was like lightning, shocking him into awareness of something that should have been obvious from the start.
Haku had died to make sure he would live. How
dare he betray that gift by stoically accepting death like some grey-bearded philosopher?
His will hardened once more. If Haku was telling him to live, then he would come back to life as many times as it took. He would honour his apprentice's last request even if it meant breaking the afterlife itself.
He hefted his greatsword, the warrior's soul sharp enough to cut even death. One perfect strike, a blazing light—
-o-
Zabuza groaned as he opened his eyes only to be blinded by the morning sun.
He froze. If he'd been taken captive, showing that he was awake was a potentially deadly error. Carefully, keeping his eyes nearly closed, he scoped out the area.
A simple room with wooden walls. One window, facing east. A chair, a small desk, and a bucket of water in the corner. A single bed, which he was currently occupying. And also on that single bed… Haku?
"Good morning, Zabuza!"
A second of disorientation later, everything clicked into place. No matter how similar the voice, Haku could never have packed so much insufferability into three simple words.
"Yukino," Zabuza said steadily, his voice hoarse but surprisingly clear, "I believe I told you that if you ever tried to sneak into my bed again, I would lower you into the nearest active volcano, one inch at a time, and use the Water Element to make sure you stay alive long enough to feel your internal organs start melting."
"You mean you really do know your way around a volcano? That's so cool! Did you ever have any climactic showdowns—"
Zabuza elbowed her off the bed.
"Ow! I was only trying to share body heat," Yukino said petulantly. "In case you haven't noticed, it's winter, and you're not exactly in top shape to handle the cold.
"And anyway, I found this place, so
you're the one in
my bed. Do you know how many men would give…"
Zabuza tuned out Yukino's babbling. The last thing he remembered was that insane ninjutsu of Uzumaki's going through his defences like they were made of butter. But the boy had hesitated, just for a moment, as a shadow clone elsewhere unexpectedly popped. Before Uzumaki could finish him off, Zabuza had used the opening to trigger the Sleep Beneath the Snow Technique—a desperate gamble that must have saved his life. He remembered nothing after that.
"How long?" he demanded.
"How long what? How long am I going to wait for you to remember your manners and thank me for nursing you back to health?"
"How long have I been out, Yukino?" Zabuza asked impatiently.
"Oh, a few weeks. During which I selflessly looked after you twenty-four hours a day."
"A few weeks," Zabuza repeated. "What happened? Did we win?"
"Don't think so," Yukino said lightly. "Obviously, I didn't turn up until it was all over, but there was a bunch of corpses with Mist headbands, and no Leaf ones."
"Was the Mizukage dead?" Zabuza asked urgently. "A boy about your height dressed in green and grey, with a hooked staff and an awful haircut?"
Yukino shrugged. "If you ask me, they all had awful haircuts. But no, no boys, mostly just old men like you."
That didn't prove anything. Leaf could have taken the body to serve as proof that Mist had lost its Kage. Or he could have escaped the battle—unlikely, given Leaf's damned aerial superiority, but who knew what powers a jinchūriki with nothing to lose could call on? Whichever it was, Zabuza had to know. Did Mist need him back
now, wounds or no wounds?
"Oh," Yukino added as if an afterthought. "There was a bunch of dead guys with no headbands at all. All built like mountains, with these crazy giant weapons lying next to them. Is that a thing missing-nin do now? Hire themselves out in great big squads?"
Zabuza frowned. A third party? That didn't make any sense. The ambush was perfect. Even if it had been a Leaf trap, how could someone completely unrelated have turned up with the perfect timing to attack the winner? And if they weren't ninja from another village, then who?
"What's the status quo? Has Leaf invaded? Is there a new Kage on either side? Tailed Beasts rampaging through the countryside?"
"Beats me. I've been hiding out in the wilderness with you in this abandoned farmstead in case your enemies try to track you down to finish the job. The only person I've talked to was the missing medic-nin I found for you, and we didn't exactly chat about current affairs."
Zabuza tensed. "You compromised this location to a missing-nin?"
"It was that or let you die. 'sides, the guy is a genius. You think it's normal for someone with wounds like yours to be, y'know, alive right now, never mind mostly healed?"
"Huh," Zabuza grunted apprehensively. "And you just happened to bump into a missing-nin this talented out in the middle of nowhere?"
Yukino looked shifty. "Not eeeexactly… I may have left you alone just for a little bit while I bargained with the yakuza in the nearest city. But civilians don't count, right?"
Yukino. Talking to the yakuza. On her own. They were so very dead.
"So they might have put me in touch with these guys who call themselves the Sacred Scions of the Superlative Serpentine Sage, and
they might have offered to treat any injury in return for one teeny favour…"
Zabuza groaned again. "What teeny favour, Yukino?"
Yukino gave him an innocent smile. "Nothing special. Apparently, they want the world's greatest hunter-nin to help them track down some kind of secret organisation…"
