Blood is Thicker Than Mist

Chapter 2

Zabuza was feared- yet given due respect- by his comrades and superiors, but he still maintained his sense of autonomy... mostly. He had mastered the art of walking the very fine line between the role of an obedient assassin in the Mist's Anbu, and the role of someone who wanted to dismantle the chain of command and recreate the village as he saw fit. As a result, he often was able to get exactly what he wanted, without suspicion, by simply manipulating those around him. He kept a clear vision of his goal in his mind at all times though he was painfully aware- especially after witnessing the incredible destructive power of a Tailed Beast- that he had far to go if he were to go through with his ambition. Of that, he was entirely sure.

He glanced down at the infant in his arms as he silently ran toward the location his team was meant to rendezvous. He had expected the child to be more of a nuisance, being so young, however, so far the child seemed to be lulled to sleep. Zabuza was not going to complain about the quiet- as he much preferred silence to loud, irritating, distracting sounds- though he knew it would only be a matter of time before the still-pink-faced whelp woke and shrieked in hunger.

The thought had barely crossed his mind when the child did just that. His small blue eyes opened and his expression twitched until it contorted in a soft but desperate cry.

Zabuza scowled at the noise, glaring at the infant as he slowed his pace and found a secure position. If anyone were around- or even tracking him from the site of the fallen Hokage- they were sure to hear the cries and give away his position. He hurriedly leapt from branch to branch to the top of a tall tree and scanned the area. He still had a ways to go before he reached the sea, and to the rendezvous point, so there was not much to behold. He strained his eyes and saw a small village in the distance, then adjusted his course to it.

The child continued to cry and whimper despite his attempts to growl out a 'shut up' and cover the infant's mouth. The baby didn't like that even more than he didn't like his empty belly, and Zabuza was forced to duck behind a tree. No matter what he said or did, the child would not be soothed. Zabuza cursed again, pacing as he glared at the baby.

It wasn't the child's fault that he was crying, Zabuza knew, just as he knew that it wasn't his fault for not knowing how to care for a child. However, knowing either thing did not resolve the issue at hand which was the newborn's wailing. The extent of his knowledge of infants was that they existed in a perpetual cycle of eating, sleeping, and soiling themselves. The idea of taking care of the third problem was something Zabuza rather not think about. As for sleeping, well, the child had just woken from a lengthy nap and he didn't seem keen on going back to sleep anytime soon. That only left hunger as a possibility, though Zabuza had precisely none of the means to provide milk for the blond gremlin.

Zabuza considered each of his options- quickly because he didn't have the luxury of time- with a frown.

Though the child had the potential to be a powerful pawn of his, it could be far more trouble than he was worth to the assassin. As the son of the Yellow Flash, a survivor of Uzushiokagure's powerful people, and as the Jinchuriki of the Leaf's coveted and dangerous Nine-Tailed Fox– the child had potential as a hostage, as well. Oh, what wouldn't the Leaf do or give to get such an asset back? The thought brought a slight smirk to his face.

Yes... he could turn in the Fourth Hokage's bloodied cloak, collect the fifteen-million-bounty for himself, and then turn around and ransom off the whimpering whelp to the Land of Fire at any cost he could imagine. Ownership of half the land? Bleeding them dry of every single Ryo? Requiring the Daimyo to kill himself and he, Zabuza Momochi, was given the authority to choose a new Daimyo that he could easily control? The opportunities were many and the limitations near-endless.