Yeah, ok, so...
I write fanfictions.
I mean, I like writing stories and it's good practice for later if I actually pursue it professionally. I'm a long way off from that though. And even then, it'd be a side thing. I'm not even about to be so cocky as to think my writing could support me. Most likely I'm looking at a future in public relations or something.
Anyways, I figure since I've written it and this little corner of the forums is here, I'll post something I've written.
Haku and Zabuza are probably my favorite pair to work with. I love that concept of ultimate innocence being raised by ultimate corruption, showing how malleable innocence can be.
That said, I'm notorious for neglecting this work. It's due for another chapter soon. But I'm only gonna post the updates here if you guys like it and ask me for them. I don't see a point in taking the time to pour something out that no one likes. So tell me what you think for those who read it and we'll see where we go from there.
Every breath he took seemed to burn its way in and roll its way out in a wave of nausea, his body quickly reaching its already fragile breaking point. He'd been running for what felt like hours, although what in reality was mere minutes, giving everything he had to escape his pursuers. He stood no chance, however, for their motorcycles, which were quickly closing in on him. The roaring of the engines got closer and closer, until they were finally right behind him, growling at his now erratically-sputtering body that kept pushing forward.
Pain resounded through his head as one sped by, connecting the pipe to the back of his skull as it went. Haku did his best to roll to the side and escape, dashing into an alley hoping to catch them off guard. The motorcycles only followed him into it though, it wasn't narrow enough to fully escape them. He tripped over a loose piece of scrap, one of many that littered the alleyway, and fell face first into the hard dirt. His scrambling to get back up, and any hope of escape, left as he felt the boot crush into his back.
A gloved hand grabbed the back of his already ragged shirt and lifted him into the air, higher than he was tall, leaving him to dangle his feet helplessly and thrash around in vain. Even useless fighting was halted when the larger man slammed his smaller body into the stone wall, giving him and push that knocked his forehead up against the stone wall. Blood was now beginning to trickle down the side of his face.
“Thought you could get away with ripping us off? You should know better than that!”
“I didn't rip you o-AHH!”, his was body slammed hard into the wall once again by the thug. He was grabbed by the shoulder and violently spun around so that he was facing his assailant, then shoved back into the wall once again, the pain from where the pipe connected amplifying as the back of his head hit the wall.
“We told you, get us the drugs or you die. You didn't get us the drugs. When it came time to die, you ran. That's ripping us off.” Haku felt sick as he stared at the thugs toothy (granted, missing a few) grin.
“That's not fair!” The grin didn't even waver. “Life's not fair, kid.”
That was when the filthy hand grabbed him by the face and began smashing his head into the wall. Blow after blow rippled through his body until his vision finally began to darken, his consciousness flickering in and out as the beating continued. A mangled cry escaped his throat, the last ounce of strength he had to resist leaving with it. With a final slam, his body was released and he slowly sunk to the ground, his back sliding against the grungy wall. That was when the rest of the gang joined in, kicking and beating him with whatever they had in their hands.
He was hardly lucid, his consciousness questionable, when the gunshot rang out through the dirty night air. More shots joined soon after, and he could feel the beating stop as the thugs ran away. He knew that was what was happening, one of the thugs tripped over his body on their way out of the alley. His consciousness faded momentarily, before the growling of a motorcycle engine woke him up, the roar rumbling within in his chest. Another gloved hand grabbed onto his lifeless body and lifted him up onto what felt like the seat of a bike. He tried to say something, although he wasn't entirely sure what, but it just came out as a pathetic mumble that didn't manage to even sound like intelligible words. He could barely make out angry yelling over the roar of the engine, then cheering and whooping as more engines growled and purred.
He was shifted into a better position on the seat, and an arm snaked around his waist, pulling him back into a broad chest. The engine gave a throaty roar one more time before he felt himself moving, the wind whipping his bloody hair as they sped away. He knew he should be glad he was being held onto from behind instead of the usual position, since he was sure he wouldn't have the strength to hold on. He would have just fallen to the ground like the ragdoll his body resembled. He probably couldn't have fought off a toddler, yet alone survived a bike ride.
Consciousness continued to fade in and out throughout the ride, his weight shifting into every turn and his body jolting at every bump. What had to have been more than half an hour later, although exactly how much more he wasn't sure given his compromised sense of time, the bike stopped outside what looked like some kind of club. The building, like most in the Land of Rain, was barely more than a step above what most would consider a pile of rubble. Entire chunks of the stone walls had fallen off, laying carelessly on the ground where they'd landed. Before he could eye the building over any more he was carelessly picked up and thrown over his rescuer's shoulder, his arms hanging limp. He would have considered himself dead, or at the very least comatose, had it not been for the dull pain he could feel throughout his body, even in his state of semi-consciousness.
The moonlit night sky was quickly replaced by barely-lit club air, flickering neon signs and hardly-living lightbulbs providing the little light there was as they descended into the club down the stairs at its entrance. He was slowly gaining more of his senses back as he made out the chuckling of the other riders that had been with the one who saved him close behind, laughing and sneering about loot and winning territory. The small groan he tried to let out was quickly replaced by a cringe and a wave of pain that darkened his vision. He gave up and let himself be carried to wherever he was going, knowing his efforts didn't really matter anyways.
He tried to catch a glimpse of the room at the bottom of the stairs, which turned out to be a nicely (although ruggedly) furnished club. The walls glowed from the orange neon signs that decorated them, some of which had been broken by who knows what. His half-conscious observation of the room was cut short when he was taken into another room, a darker room lit only by the light let in from the club room by the still-open door. He was at first slung carelessly over the shoulder onto a mattress, but his head was caught gently and laid carefully down, surprising him to say the least. The feeling of being in flight was enough to bring a groan out, one that hurt him enough to lose consciousness, if only momentarily. The man, who he guessed had saved him, was now glowering down at him, bandages still covering his face.
“You ok, kid?” If not for for the weak moan of confirmation he let out, the nod he attempted would have seemed like little more than a twitch. He heard rustling and tried to see into the darkness to check on what the man was doing. He moved back into his vision holding a small pill in his hand.
“Take this.” Haku was sure it wasn't up for debate, but he wasn't about to take a pill without knowing what it was. And he didn't think he could even if he wanted to.
“What is it?”
“You don't need to know.” He started to argue, but another wave of pain crashed down just as he got the energy to. “You'll feel better, I promise.”
It was that last little statement that shattered his resolve. A slight hint of concern buried beneath layers of callousness. The man slipped the pill past his lips, and he did his best to swallow it, but chocked on the pill instead. The coughing and gagging sent pain ripping through his beaten body, until rough fingers gently massaged his throat to help the pill ease down his throat.
“Why?” The eyes just turned from the empty space they were lost in and easily stared him down. The silence that passed between them was a clear indication that he wasn't going to get an answer.
“Get some sleep.” The man slowly turned and walked out of the room with heavy steps, leaving Haku alone with his thoughts. It wasn't long, though, before the pill he'd taken was obviously having an effect on him. His vision blurred, every muscle seemed to relax, and soon the feeling of sinking overtook him. Then he was out cold.