Zabuza walked into the grill bar with his hands in his pockets and mesh mask over his face. It was a shinobi bar and so while few actually turned their heads to look at him, Zabuza felt eyes all over as he marched to take his usual seat, greeting the owner with a nod as he did.

He missed the grill bar as much as it missed him, the owner was loyal and generous to his regulars and Zabuza was among the few that could boast of being one of the earliest patrons. It granted him understanding, privilege and to an extent he didn’t want to realise the owner felt for him, pity.

But there was no trace of sympathy in the man’s smile now, only a pride Zabuza felt numb to. It had been one week since the Mizukage relieved the village from a state of war and two weeks since Zabuza had returned from his call of duty. The village didn’t go back to normal even after a week of relatively relaxed measures, Zabuza sensed the tension in the atmosphere and having been an active participant, the only Genin participant, his status was elevated.

Over three hundred shinobi were deployed from Kirigakure during the Daimyo’s civil war and it was rumoured and heavily discussed among close circles that the Mizukage had handpicked each individual shinobi for the task of breaking the stalemate and Zabuza was one of them.

Zabuza found his seat by a window and started the fire to warm up the pan he’d be sizzling his coming order in. He was grateful for his mask as he got to hide the giant smile underneath as he counted thirty seconds in his head and at the end, two shinobi occupied the booth with him.

They wore sturdy, clean flak vests and were grinning widely as if something was funny. Chuunin, promoted recently? No…

While the rumour that the Mizukage had handpicked all three hundred shinobi wasn’t true, Zabuza had been among the few handpicked to serve under the commanders of the war and not one of their captains or lower tier subordinates. But that didn’t matter as much as the fact that Jounin and Chuunin predominantly from the Funato, Hoshigaki and Karatachi clans were what made up the entire one month war.

And then there was Zabuza, chosen over Hozuki, Yuki and even some Karatachi clan Chuunin who believed they would get a chance to make a name for themselves and impress the Mizukage. Just yesterday, in the very same booth Zabuza had been accosted by a similarly grinning pair.

Except, these two actually look excited. He thought and squinted at them. They straightened their faces but the mirth in their features didn’t leave as one finally spoke, “Momochi Zabuza, the Demon of the Mist, it’s an honour to meet you in person.”

“Yes, it is.” the other echoed.

The first looked like he wanted to facepalm but ignored the urge as he cleared his throat, “I may not look like it but I am a Tokubetsu Jounin, the name is-”

“I don’t care, if I haven’t already heard of you don’t bother introducing yourself.” Zabuza said.

The Tokubetsu’s shadow stuttered in offence, “H-h-how dare you! Do you realise who you are speaking to? This is-!”

Zabuza’s glare froze the boy in place, his eyes wide with panic. His breath caught in his throat, and a bead of sweat trailed down his temple as the oppressive weight of Zabuza’s killing intent suffocated the air between them. The Tokubetsu Jounin, to his credit, was relatively unfazed, simply looking at Zabuza with an uneasy gaze.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Zabuza’s order arrived at last and he broke the death glare to witness the delight of four servings of pork belly, ears and the rare and coveted beef rinds. The server girl, niece to the owner, chuckled at him and promised to bring something extra once he was done.

He nodded gratefully all while tossing, flipping and patting down the strips of meat on the oiled pan and grill respectively. Zabuza had been living off of their restaurant for a week since he got his pay projections, it was significantly smaller than it would have been had this not been a war and the mission a loyalty one, but he expected it next month and would be living wealthy for awhile after that if he excluded the cost of taking care of all the new gear he credited out for the war.

A necessary expense. Can’t keep reusing bad tools. He thought just as the Tokubetsu spoke again, “You are worth a lot so I understand why you would react like that, ignore my subordinate but at least listen to what I have to say.”

Zabuza looked up from his grilling, “You’re still here?”

Just like he’d been living off this restaurant he’d been rebuffing useless, malicious deals and offers like this all week. The Genin hadn’t dared to try but he saw them creep into the restaurant only to watch him eat and never approach with their offers.

Chuunin were braver, their rank deceived them into thinking they were stronger than him. They’d come, promise to slot him on all their B-rank missions and even share jutsu with him. At first, he was tempted, it was all he’d been working towards, it was his failsafe plan for after the Swordsman tournaments.

He remembered not too long ago this was the scenario he fantasised happening before he went to bed, after he returned from a mission he’d performed his damndest best. But none of that happened and it wasn’t truly happening now either.

As weak and disgusting as the Chuunin were, they were smart enough to recognize that the Mizukage’s interest in him, however downplayed by his clanlessness, was genuine enough to translate into active warfare and potential other accolades.

In a way, Zabuza himself had done the same thing by sticking close to Mangetsu, except he’d challenged and aspired to be better than the Hozuki clan scion rather than try to butter him up with promises he couldn’t guarantee.

‘If we can get him to join our team we can clear more high rank missions and ask for Jounin evaluations.’ Zabuza could almost hear them think.

“It’s a no from me, Tokubetsu Jounin, congratulations but you have nothing to offer me.” Zabuza said.

“We know people that wil-”

“It’s a no.”

The Tokubetsu Jounin narrowed a dangerous gaze down at Zabuza that he met with his own. “Come then, let's go.”

“What? But he-”

“Let’s go.”

The two nuisances finally exited his booth just in time for the server to place a platter of rice balls. Zabuza grabbed another rice ball, stuffing it with sizzling pork belly. The crispness of the meat crunched in his mouth, but the flavour soured when yet another unwelcome figure slid into the booth across from him. He didn’t even bother swallowing before speaking, “What do you want, ojisan?”

It was an elderly person in front of him now and they never had good words for Zabuza. He’d either murdered their child in the Academy exams or he’d returned from a mission when their child hadn’t. While that elderly harassment hadn’t happened in some months, he was never surprised when they began again.

“It’s rude to speak with your mouthful, child, did your mother teach you any manners?”

Guess it's happening. Zabuza had gone through all possible reactions to being harassed like this, returning the favour, violence, silence but nothing worked better than just leaving. He raised his hand to signal the server but it was smacked out of the air before it could rise any higher than his shoulder.

Zabuza whipped his focus on the old man, the hairs on the back of his neck rising as his widened eyes narrowed at the figure before him. He was dressed in a simple workers outfit, a simple black shirt, face cap and trousers. He was tall but wrinkled enough his eyelids disappeared in the folds.

No…that's..this is all false. Discreetly, Zabuza pulsed his chakra pathways hoping to pull the wool of any sinister Genjutsu only to find the same old man now grinning at him, showing off yellowed teeth.

“Good instinct.” the old man said as he tipped his cap. “But if I had cast an illusion on you it wouldn’t be as simple as jolting your system.”

“Who are you really?” Zabuza asked, getting straight to the point. This person radiated differently from any that had occupied his booth with him, there was true strength sitting in front of him now.

“I am someone that can change your life, Momochi Zabuza, you have rejected many before me, will you listen to what I have to offer?”