---
The second round of sparring finally came to a halt around lunchtime. The sun beat down on the training ground, casting short shadows over the battered earth. Haku lay sprawled on the grass, his chest heaving as he gasped for air, sweat soaking his combat gear.
He stared up at the sky, his mind reeling. Alaric was strong... terrifyingly so. But what unsettled Haku the most wasn't the strength itself, but the effortlessness of it. They had sparred for hours, yet Alaric stood there without a single bead of sweat on his forehead, his breathing as even as if he'd just taken a nap.
"Ha!" Haku exhaled sharply, trying to force oxygen back into his burning lungs. "How do you do that, Sensei?"
Alaric, who was standing a few feet away, raised a brow. He took a slow drag from his cigar, the smoke drifting lazily in the still air. "Hm?"
"How are you so strong?" Haku asked, not bothering to lift his head to look at him. He kept his gaze fixed on the passing clouds. "I truly gave it my all in the spar. I intended to kill you... yet I couldn't even touch the hem of your coat."
"..." Alaric looked down at the exhausted boy, then tilted his head back to copy Haku's action, staring at the blue expanse above. "Well... you certainly impressed me in the second round. You could even be a challenge to Zabuza or someone like Kakashi..."
He paused, letting a ring of smoke escape his lips. "...for me," Alaric continued, chuckling softly. "I'm just that strong, I guess?"
'Well, huge help from the System,' Alaric thought, a flicker of amusement passing through his mind as he internally shook his head. 'But it's not like I would tell anyone... heh.'
Haku sighed at the non-answer, but he didn't push it. He knew by now that Alaric had secrets that were not meant to be shared. Instead, he asked the question that had been burning in his mind since he first saw Alaric dismantle the bandits. "Then how do I do it?"
He sat up slowly, wincing as his muscles protested. He looked at Alaric with intense, desperate eyes. "How can I become as strong as you?"
Alaric looked at Haku, studying the resolve in the boy's face. A slow smile spread across his lips. "...Well, there's a method I have. A very painful method... but you'd have to remove your upper clothes."
"EHH!?" Haku's eyes widened in shock. He immediately scrambled backward, jumping to his feet and putting distance between himself and Alaric, his arms crossing defensively over his chest. "Sensei, don't tell me..."
"It's not what you think," Alaric sighed, shaking his head at the boy's reaction. He took one final drag from his cigar before dropping it to the dirt and crushing it with his heel. "I will place something on your back. A fuinjutsu... it will help you for three years. Regeneration, perception, physical enhancement. It will help you with your battles, but most importantly, with your training."
"..."
"..."
Silence stretched between them, filled only by the rustling of leaves in the wind. Haku lowered his arms slowly, his gaze searching Alaric's face for any sign of deception. Finding none, he took a deep breath and nodded hesitantly. "Th-then... would that really help me?"
"Yes."
The single word carried absolute certainty. Hearing Alaric's reply, Haku didn't waste any more time. He untied his sash and shrugged off his kimono and mesh armor, letting them pile on the grass. He revealed a slim, pale frame that looked almost too delicate for the violence he was capable of.
He turned his back towards Alaric, bracing himself.
Alaric walked forward, his expression turning serious. He stared at Haku's back for a moment, a stray thought crossing his mind.
'Well, at least this confirms that he's actually a boy,' Alaric thought, suppressing a smirk before shaking his head to focus. He bit his thumb, drawing a small amount of blood, and began to weave the chakra into a complex pattern on Haku's skin, a better buff than what he gave Thulani and Reuben years ago in the previous world.
'Ashura no Mon!'
"AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
---
The pain had been blinding, a searing heat that felt like molten iron being poured directly into his spine. But now, walking back through the village streets, the agony was gone, replaced by a low, constant thrum of energy beneath his skin.
Haku flexed his hands, staring at them as he walked. The world felt... sharper.
The chatter of the villagers, usually a dull roar, was now distinct. He could pick out individual conversations from across the street. The scent of dango, the rustle of fabric, the shift of wind… it all assaulted his senses with a clarity that was almost overwhelming.
He stepped into an alleyway, needing a moment away from the sensory overload. He pulled a senbon from his pouch. He hesitated for a fraction of a second, then sliced a shallow cut across his palm.
Blood welled up, bright red.
Haku watched, his breath catching. Before the first drop could fall, the wound began to knit itself together. Steam rose faintly from the skin as the tissue repaired itself at an impossible speed. Within seconds, the skin was smooth again, leaving not even a scar.
"Incredible," he whispered, clenching his fist. The power coursing through him was intoxicating.
He adjusted his kimono and continued home.
When he opened the door to the modest house, the smell of coffee greeted him. Zabuza was sitting on the couch, one leg crossed over the other, a newspaper in one hand and a steaming mug in the other. He looked relaxed, a rare sight for the Demon of the Hidden Mist.
Haku froze in the genkan, his new senses instantly analyzing the man before him.
He saw the way Zabuza held the mug… relaxed grip, slightly open guard. He heard the steady, slow rhythm of Zabuza's heart. He saw the tension in Zabuza's shoulder, an old injury that never quite healed right.
For the first time in his life, Haku looked at Zabuza and didn't just see a master or a savior. He saw a target.
The thought came unbidden, cold and analytical: 'I could take him. If I moved now, before he set the mug down... I could win.'
Haku shook his head violently, dispelling the traitorous thought. He blinked, forcing his eyes to see Zabuza as he always had… the man who gave him purpose.
"I'm back, Zabuza-sama," Haku said, his voice steady despite the turmoil in his mind.
Zabuza glanced up from the paper, his eyes narrowing slightly as he scanned Haku. He didn't say anything for a moment, just took a sip of his coffee. "You're back late. Alaric work you to the bone?"
"Something like that," Haku replied, slipping off his sandals. "I'm going to rest for a bit."
Zabuza grunted in acknowledgement and turned back to the news.
Haku walked past the living area and into his bedroom, sliding the door shut behind him. He leaned against the wood, sliding down until he hit the floor.
His mind drifted back to Alaric. The man was an enigma wrapped in a riddle. A civilian who could fight Kage-level opponents, a merchant who knew forbidden seals. How did he possess such power? And why give it so freely? 'Well… he IS a jonin…'
He pushed himself up and moved to the bathroom. He stripped off his clothes, catching a glimpse of his back in the mirror. The intricate black seal sat between his shoulder blades, pulsing faintly.
He stepped into the shower, letting the hot water cascade over him. Even the water felt different on his skin… more distinct, heavier.
By the time he dried off and dressed in fresh sleepwear, it was only two in the afternoon. But the physical and mental toll of the transformation, combined with the sensory overload, hit him all at once.
Haku collapsed onto his bed. The Chunin Exams were only a few days away, but as his head hit the pillow, the thought didn't even cross his mind. The darkness claimed him instantly.
.
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