The mist of Kirigakure is a shield.

To people loyal to the land, the mist was a blessing. It protected them from harm, shielding them from the calculative views of their enemies. It protected their shinobi, providing cover for their vicious blades.

To people of Kirigakure, the mist is a form of protection.

The mist of Kirigakure would never harm the people it was protecting.

The red of the mist was from the blood of the enemies. The stale stench of death littering their borders were the mix of their brave fighters that have fallen on duty and that of the enemies who tried to infiltrate them. The blood that fertilised their soil was never from an innocent citizen or their own children.

It has always been the enemies, and never the people.

The bloody mist of Kirigakure would never swallow its own people.

Vicious and unforgiving they were, but they would never swallow their own people.

So, what made him then?

What was Momochi Zabuza, then?

When he snapped. When he blacked out and lost control of himself the moment he held the graduation sword. When he tainted the mist around the arena with the blood of his own brothers and sisters. When he lusted for the warm blood of his own kin. When he drove his sword through the unprotected chest of the Mizukage. When he was literally an inch from killing Mother—their leader, the mother of Kirigakure himself—the one that was protecting them all.

What was him then?

Sometimes Zabuza didn't understand why he was still treated with respect. After the lives he ended. After the blood he has drunken from his own comrades. After the scar he left on the Mizukage. After the nightmares he gave Mei. After the worries he inflicted on Kisame.

Why was he still welcomed in this land?

He didn't understand his people.

He didn't understand his own self either.

He didn't understand the reason it was so difficult to contain this bloodlust. He didn't understand the reason his blood felt like it was boiling when he thought of that incident. He didn't understand the reason the feeling that bubbled up his chest when he thought of that day wasn't of disgust.

He was supposed to feel disgusted.

But he didn't.

Behind the guilt and disgust that he tried to convince himself he was feeling, deep down, he knew that his blood was simmering in excitement at the memories of blood, bubbling with the urge for more. He wanted more. More. He wanted to feel the warmth of fresh blood on his skin. He wanted that electrifying pleasure it gave him when he swung his sword and was rewarded with blood.

He wanted to fight.

He wanted to submit.

Submit to the bloodlust. Surrender himself to the instincts. Draw his sword and fight.

"Let's fight, then."

Zabuza grimaced, flashing his naturally razor-sharp teeth as he acknowledged the challenge. His mind was already halfway submitting into the instincts, already sizing up his opponent, lusting for the smaller boy's blood.

Though, there was still a spark of sanity left.

It was just a spark, but for a brief moment, he considered of backing out, because Sukea has done nothing but stating the obvious and didn't deserve death at this young age. It wasn't Sukea's fault that just remembering his graduation day would put Zabuza into a mad bloodlust.

It wasn't Sukea's fault that the instinct was more difficult to contain this time, even after the hours Zabuza has spent meditating under the sacred waterfalls.

It wasn't Sukea's fault that Zabuza was such a monster.

For that brief second, Zabuza wanted to back out.

Sukea didn't deserve this.

But Sukea tilted his chin up, displaying a pure confident arrogance that made something within Zabuza both roared and purred. Those mismatched eyes have lost all of its cutesy innocence that Zabuza's sane mind remembered from their first meeting earlier of the day. Instead, Sukea seemed predatory in a way, his little canines flashed almost equally menacing as Zabuza's razor-sharp teeth, peeking through parted wet lips, smug and taunting. The cloudy white of his left eye glimmered underneath the moonlight, and perhaps it was his own bloodlust tainting his gaze but Zabuza swore he saw a flicker of red in that supposedly blind eye.

"Come on, little omega," Sukea purred—taunting, mocking—as the words rolled off his tongue like a deceitful invitation, wrapping around the challenge he was proposing. "Fight me."

It was a temptation at its finest.

That wild thing in his chest roared again, draining his uncontrollable bloodlust towards this specific boy. It was something new—not entirely the mad bloodlust he was used to but something else that was almost similar—and Zabuza found himself rising to the challenge, a vicious warning growl ripped out of his throat.

He flexed his wrist and tightened his grip on his sword, already crouching into a kata when Sukea let out an amused bark of laughter.

The boy that was grinning at him wasn't the cute helpless dork he has tailed for the past few days. He wasn't the boy that adorably tried to babysit his more helpless elder brother. He wasn't that small boy who hid behind his mother's sleeves as they were introduced to the rest of the Mizukage's council. He wasn't that awkward brat that blurted out the most insensitive thing and could still look adorable as he did so.

Sukea wasn't that socially awkward mess of a boy anymore.

No, the boy that was grinning at him was a completely different person—a vicious predator that made Zabuza's blood sang within his veins as his body was set on figurative fire.

That wild monster in him wanted to fight and subdue this bigger predator.

With little fangs peeking out of a taunting grin and hypnotic red that glimmered in cloudy white, Sukea proposed his challenge;

"Shall we dance?"

Now, now... wouldn't it be rude if Zabuza didn't answer that proposal?

Acting his own age was hard.

He was already used to acting like an adult ever since his father died. Mom was a beta, so naturally, with the presence of another legitimate alpha—a proper heir—in the clan, it would be inappropriate of her to assume the spot of the Clan Head.

So, at the age of 8, Kakashi was already used to act like an adult as he shouldered the burden as the Hatake Clan Head.

He didn't remember being eight. He didn't remember being a child after his father's death. He didn't remember playing the vicious shinobi tag with his classmates after his father's death.

He only remembered the vicious mind games within the Hokage's meeting room.

He remembered the mental game he played with the elders. He remembered asserting his dominance over the arrogant betas, putting them into the place where they belong—civilians who should not have that loud of a voice in a shinobi council. He remembered scowling at Fugaku's concern, refusing to be seen as a child by the Head Alpha of one of the biggest clans in Konoha. He remembered meeting Shikaku eye-to-eye, refusing to back down upon the man's concerned persistence for him to stop being a Clan Head—at least until he was a little bit older. He remembered growling at Tsume, openly challenging the woman when she questioned the Hokage's decision of allowing him succeeding his father's spot in the council.

He remembered standing his ground and defying them all.

He didn't remember how to act like a child of his own age.

What did normal eight-years-old do anyway? How did a typical eleven-years-old behave?

He didn't know. Hadn't bothered to know.

He was the last Clan Head of the Hatake clan. He couldn't be a child.

He couldn't afford to be a child.

But now that he was a nobody in Kiri, it was hard to act his own age, especially when he remembered nothing of how his academy peers behaved like. He wasn't friends with any of them, and they all were merely fleeting memories in his mind—nothing of significance worth remembering.

Though there was a blurry memory of a loud-mouthed boy and the Sanbi girl—two of his academy peers that stood out than the rest of his insignificant peers—but if he couldn't even remember their names, they must have been yet another fleeting classmate that wasn't important in his life.

So, he dismissed them to the back of his mind.

(He has to kill that Sanbi girl sometime in the future anyway. Getting attached to her just because of some unclear memories would be pure stupidity.)

In short, Kakashi has zero reference material on how to get by acting like an eleven-year-old boy.

Thus, interacting with Zabuza and Kisame was proven to be harder than expected.

He was almost worried that they were catching on, especially after his misstep with Zabuza, and later that mishap with Mei, but Kisame seemed to shrug his odd behaviour off as an awkward social skill anyway, so he managed to evade that kunai. His misstep turned out to be good for him actually, as it established a persona for him to take on—although unintentionally—but it was safe to say that he was slowly making his way into their hearts.

He ended up deciding to keep up that socially awkward adorable persona, especially after seeing the positive effects it seemed to have on the impressions that both Kisame and Mei had on him. Mei seemed to view him as a dorky idiot, while Kisame has practically adopted him as a little brother by this point, so he was good with both of them.

But it was tiring.

He wasn't used to acting like a kid.

Hence, when his detour towards the sacred waterfall for midnight training brought him to the person that he has spent the whole day trying to track, Kakashi was ecstatic. Kisame has warned him that tracking Zabuza would be difficult in this kind of circumstances—as Zabuza's scent tended to change when he wasn't completely being himself—but Kisame didn't stop tailing each of his steps as they ventured the whole village anyway, much to Mei's irritation.

With Kisame hovering behind him, and Mei angrily trailing after their footsteps, socialising was inevitable.

Socialising was hard when you're generally anti-social.

By the end of the day, Kakashi has too much of pent-up frustration from his failed attempts of socialising that he would do anything for a good spar.

And like a wrapped gift from heavens, he encountered Zabuza.

True to Kisame's words, Zabuza wasn't being himself—more of a monster Kirigakure's shinobi were famed as rather than the blushing boy that Kakashi first met—so Kakashi didn't see any fault in dropping his innocent persona. He could always blame the overwhelmingly sweet scent that Zabuza was emitting, knowing that it was completely normal to react to this kind of circumstances with a bit of aggression and madness on his part, especially considering that he was a young boy who shouldn't have any form of complex self-control at all.

When it came to the old clans, the deep-set instinct of their minds was particularly difficult to control among younger children, especially with the presence of a trigger agent like the reaction Zabuza was having. Kakashi could already feel his own blood responding to Zabuza's challenge anyway, boiling in that burning needs to fight and subdue.

He wanted to fight.

He wanted to subdue.

Subdue this mad bloodlust. Surrender himself to the instincts. Draw his sword and fight.

Subdue this beast. Make this beast his.

So, he flashed his teeth in a taunting grin and proposed a challenge;

"Shall we dance?"

Zabuza answered him with a strike.

"I'll take that as a 'yes' then," he hummed, greeting the strike with the flat of his blade, going on the defensive route for now.

Zabuza answered him with a growl that sounded more demon-like rather than beast-like, which made Kakashi wondered what kind of ancient blood was tied to Kiri's old clans for Zabuza to sound like this. He didn't let his guard down though—despite the sudden curiousity—because even though he was sufficiently trained in kenjutsu, Kiri was famed for their elite swordsmen.

Zabuza was the official successor for the Kubikiribōchō.

Logical reasoning would assume that Zabuza must have been extensively trained in literally every kind of swords ever, so there was no doubt that the older boy would have superior skills.

And it showed.

Despite Kakashi's chakra sword being made from superior metal and quality, Zabuza's standard-grade sword managed to put pressure on the blade as well as Kakashi himself, cornering him into a purely defensive position in that one strike.

Even at this age, Zabuza would have been pretty devastating opponent as an enemy.

It was fantastic.

Kakashi allowed the smallest amount of chakra to his left eye—just enough to activate the rinnegan sharingan but not enough to break the genjutsu that made his eye appeared blind—and he was just in time to see the quick hand sign that Zabuza formed.

Mist floated up from the sacred waterfall, creeping up their feet before swallowing them whole.

"That's cheating," he mused, pouting.

Zabuza sneered, dark eyes glimmered with a faint sheen of red as he retreated into the mist and went completely invisible to sight.

Kakashi barked out an amused laugh.

"So, we're playing hide and seek now?" he asked to the cold mist, honestly not expecting any response considering how insane Zabuza was acting.

To think that he was planning to train while using his left eye too.

Regardless at the change of his training option, Kakashi adapted to the situation, letting his eyes fluttered shut, closing one sense to sharpen the rest. He isolated the scents first, which wasn't hard to do considering that Zabuza was emitting an overwhelmingly inviting scent that even the stale scent of the mist couldn't hide.

It almost made his mouth watered, in fact.

It only took him ten seconds to pinpoint Zabuza's exact location within the mist, which was apparently the exact time Zabuza required to launch another attack. The strike that came afterwards was aiming for his left side, something that Kakashi was half-expecting. Every shinobi worth their salt would obviously go for his left side, the literal blind spot that he was supposed to have. So he greeted the attack with a quick shift of his own blade, channelling a little bit of raiton into the blade.

His lightning pierced through the mist towards the dark night sky, and if no one noticed their spar before, it sure has attracted attention now.

Not that Kakashi would mind.

An audience would be good to establish his image in Kiri.

He didn't bother to acknowledge his approaching audience though, despite their arrival meant zero chance for him to attempt using his left eye. Thankfully, they didn't interfere in the spar, opting to remain hidden among the trees just outside the mist range.

Kakashi could still feel their scrutinising gaze on his back, though.

All the more reasons to show off.

Using Raikiri would be a dead giveaway to his identity as Hatake Kakashi, but that didn't mean he couldn't wield his chakra through his sword. That was a common tactic among capable jounin, and he would rather not go through yet another genin test when the Mizukage's council finally decided to rank him.

Plus, this would give him an edge against Zabuza's superior swordsmanship.

Zabuza's next attack was more calculated and careful—almost like a painful tease in a way—as they engaged in a deadly dance within the mist. Lightning-enhanced blade clashed with ordinary metal as they attempted to subdue each other, but neither blade managed to touch the other.

All the while, Kakashi has his eyes closed, fully utilising his more useful senses instead.

He welcomed the next sneak attack with a sudden whirl, channelling more of his raiton through the blade until his lightning became the extension of the sword. It halted Zabuza mid-attack and the older boy evaded the whipping lightning just in time, falling back into the mist almost the next instant.

Now, now. What a tease.

"You're a cruel tease, aren't you?" Kakashi hummed, correcting the grip he has on his sword. He still has his eyes closed as he stalked through the mist, paying attention to everything that didn't sound like the soothing sound of the waterfall and didn't smell like the stale scent of the mist.

There was a faint rustle, a shift in the air movement and Kakashi swooped low the exact moment sharp blade slashed through the mist, aiming for the spot his neck was previously at.

Apparently, someone was really lusting for his blood.

It was such a good thing that Zabuza was a good foot and a half taller than him.

Kakashi pivoted on his heels, deactivating his lightning as he kept his non-dominant fist close to his chest and angled his elbow towards that vulnerable spot just below Zabuza's pecs, fully utilising his advantage of their height differences and his speed for the momentum he needed. It was a simple and innocent move, especially considering that Kakashi was on the lighter side of the weight spectrum. Though, coupled with the speed both he and Zabuza were using, the momentum of his weight moving at such speed, the fact that he purposely angled his skinny sharp elbow to the solar plexus and that Zabuza wasn't expecting that Kakashi would go for hands-on combat instead of using his sword—

—the end result was a sweet victory.

There was a hitched gasp fanning on top of his head as they both tumbled onto the wet ground, and Kakashi took Zabuza's momentary slackened grip to slap the sword away. He let go of his sword too, making sure that the blade was still within his reach as he did so but didn't allow his much taller opponent any chance of turning the tables.

Pinned. Subdued. Helpless.

Victory.

He could barely wrap his hands around Zabuza's wrists, the thighs pinned beneath his knees were thicker than he expected and Zabuza could easily weigh twice his own weight with that kind of muscles, but they both knew who the victor was.

"Caught you," he hummed, barely grazing the flushed ear with his teeth. "Yield, little omega."

Sweet, sweet victory.

Zabuza was breathing in short broken gasps, heart beating so fast that Kakashi could feel the rhythm even without having their chests touching. It didn't stop him from pinning the older boy with everything that he had, though. Zabuza was a trained shinobi as Kakashi was. Underestimating his pain tolerance would be both stupid and insulting.

Kakashi might be an asshole, but he wouldn't insult such a lovely opponent like that.

Zabuza wriggled beneath the cage of his thighs and tried to chase him off with a growl, but something was probably broken underneath that heaving chest because the sound that he let out was close to a breathless whimper instead of a growl.

It was almost cute.

And at this intimate range, Kakashi finally realised how good the older boy actually smelled like. It was the kind of sweetly inviting scent so overpowering that even the blood stench soaking Zabuza could not cover it. It caused him to subconsciously lick the pointy ends of his sharp little canines too, honestly wondering if Zabuza will taste as sweet as how he smelled like.

Zabuza smelled extremely good that Kakashi could feel his logic taking off from his mind, leaving the ancient primitive instinct to take the reign of his body.

He could barely consider the option of tasting the older