Chapter Text
Thick, dark, lashes lifted over sleep riddled eyes, the owner attempting to survey their surroundings. A noise-three sharp raps against wood-had disturbed you from the deep depths of slumber, only for you to lay there motionless, willing them to go away with nothing but the power of your sorrow filled mind. Staring at the wall parallel to the bed, you listened absentmindedly, gaze slowly shifting to the beautiful assortment of roses that decorated the chestnut vanity. Even in the barely lit room, you could still see the stunning beauty that occupied the four, vintage vases, recalling the exact instance when each one had arrived. The dying, white roses, had arrived first. Beautifully delicate petals, once smooth and soft, had now shriveled up- a horrid brown colour creeping up from the edges to claim its youth. They had made its appearance on your doorstep approximately five weeks ago, about a week and a half after he had left you. Two weeks later, the second bouquet of lavender roses made their presence, then the red, and lastly, the deep, burgundy, had arrived this morning while you were out grocery shopping.
You knew exactly who your late-night visitor was, whom was now ringing your doorbell in a frenzy, quick and insistent. Still, you did nothing to change that, closing your eyes once more. To your annoyance, the ringing grew increasingly louder, until finally, an incredibly loud bang scared you straight out of bed.
“What the fu-”
You exclaimed in shock, flying out of the covers and collapsing on the floorboards-clutching your chest cavity in freight. Hearing cursing from your living room, you mustered up the strength to stand on shaky legs, not knowing if you were more startled by the sudden intrusion, or angered by the high probability that he had broken your front door.
Making your way from the bedroom, you weren't the least bit surprised to see your ex-boyfriend standing in your home, holding the corpse of the very friendly man from this morning. Who had been nice enough to assist you in carrying your many groceries bags back to your isolated, yet cozy, home.
“Who the fuck is this cunt!?” The large male screeched, forcefully thrusting his poor cadaver up to your face, soiling the once quiet and peaceful atmosphere of your household.
“Shh, Hidan.” You rubbed your temples, not at all in the mood to listen to his petty shouting of unwarranted jealousy. Once you had caught sight of the bouquet of roses, you knew that Hidan was watching from somewhere in the forest. Quietly seething as you advanced with a chatty, and if you may, quite handsome male. You would have shooed him off, but you knew his fate was pretty much sealed already. So, you made the informed decision to allow him to finish the trip, placing the bags by the door before thanking him. Apparently, your deduction was correct, secretly hoping, even though you knew better, that he had a quick and painless death.
“I leave for what? Less than a fucking month! And you're already all over another-” he punted the body across the room, cracking your wall slightly. “Fucking cock sucking-” he stomped on the body repeatedly, what little blood left inside the cadaver splattering on your floors. Sighing, you sat on the counter of your island, waiting for the enraged black and white body of your lover-ex-lover- to be through with massacring the poor man. You played with the thought of mentioning that it had actually been over a month, but you knew the smart comment would just make things worse.
“Who the fucking hell is he?” In a flash, Hidan’s handsomely furious face was millimeters away from your own, forcefully pronouncing each syllable with hate.
“I don't know,” you dismissed, “I think his name was Ryuk?”
You watched in stifled amusement as this set him off again, a slew of curse words leaving his lips as he stomped around your home, childishly kicking your furniture in midst his tantrum. It was times like these that you really appreciated your past self's ingenious decision to move into the serene little home on the outskirts of town, surrounded by nothing but trees for at least six miles. It had proven even more convenient when your complicated love interest-whom you had come to discover had left you to join a dangerous, underground, criminal organization of S-class ninja-would stupidly decide to risk being captured and incriminating you, just to deliver flowers. If it was any other situation you would have found the gesture sweet and poetic, but under the circumstance of his departure you found it nothing but annoying and confusing. He had made it clear that he would not return to you, and that it was, in his words, a waste of fucking time, to continue see one another. Only to continuously pop up on you, randomly, and completely unannounced. You could always sense his chakra around your home, but this was the first time he had actually confronted you, and if that wasn't enough, with a dead man, to accuse you of what? cheating on him?
How it was possible for this man to confront you about another male, when it was he who left you, was something you would never grow to understand.
“Listen, Hidan, it's late, and I'm tired.” You attempted to reason with him, “If you're going to waste my time talking about a man I never knew existed until today-”
“Did you let him in?”
“What?” You asked, puzzled.
“Did you let him the fuck into our home?” He was shaking slightly, trying his hardest to contain himself long enough to hear your answer.
“Our home?” You, snorted, hopping off the marble counter, walking past him to examine your front door. Sucking your teeth once you realized he had broken it clean off the frame. “I thought you didn't want to play house anymore.”
Bending down to lift the door, you attempted to lean it against the frame, stifling your surprise when two strong black and white arms shot past you; forcefully pressing into the wood, cracking it slightly. Turning around with a speed you didn't quite know you possessed, you came face to face with the enraged pink eyes you were so accustomed to. His chest was heaving, back and shoulder muscles contracting along with the action. A feeling of annoyance shot up you, how was it that he could ever be this upset with you, after all the fucked up things he put you through? If anyone should be screaming and shaking with anger, it should be you.
“You left me, Hidan. That's it. You made your decision. There's no instance where you have the right to return and bitch about anything I choose to do with my life. There's no keeping an eye on me, and there's no-” you stopped for dramatic effect, pointing behind his towering frame, “killing innocent men just because they talk to me. You're not entitled to my decisions, nor are you allowed to have an opinion on them."
He just watched you, leaning closer and closer to your face as you spoke. Sometime during your rant you had lost him, only realizing by the end when you looked away from the man laying in your living room to witness the bipolar male watching your lips as you brought each syllable to life.
“I didn't leave you.” His voice was quieter now, slouching slightly, curving his back so his shoulders would round over you. “I just needed to get some shit in order.”
“No. I'm pretty sure you broke up with me.”
“How the fuck did I break up with you?”
“Let's see-” you held up your palm, ticking off each point with your fingers. “you said you were tired of being here with me, you wanted to start a new life, that you didn't want to live here with me anymore and play house,” you spat and he rolled his eyes- noting that you were particularly annoyed by that comment. “and last but not least, you told me you'd never come back.”
“Obviously, I'd come back dipshit.”
“How the fuck is that so obvious! You joined the Akatsuki! I thought your reckless self would have died already.” You pushed him off you, feeling a slight prick to your eyes.
“Hey-” he grabbed your fleeing from, lifting you up by your waist. You attempted to kick his shin, but stopped once you remembered just who exactly you were dealing with. It wouldn't really do any damage, if anything, the freak would love it. That didn't stop you from digging your nails into his forearms though, feeling the vibrations of his groan against your back as he took a seat on the sofa, placing you on his lap.
“Did you get my flowers?” He whispered into your hair, only making you want to cry more. You didn't want to admit it, but you had broken down every time you had opened your front door to see and the bouquet of roses. But only after you had barricaded yourself in the bathroom, away from the potential of prying eyes.
“I threw them out.”
He sighed, scooping your legs up to hold you bridal style, face inches from yours. Averting your glossy gaze, you instead watched his flesh slowly lose the black pigmentation, his beautiful olive skin returning.
“Listen, I know you don't give a shit about what I have to say, but I still love you, and I was being a fucking idiot for thinking I could ever leave you the fuck alone.” He rested his chin on your shoulder, inhaling the scent of your body wash. “So, if you'll let me, I wanna make it up to you.”
A snort left your lips, followed by a dry, humourless, laugh that escaped your tightening throat. “Yeah, ok.” came your sarcastic reply, secretly hoping he wouldn't hear the slight croak to your throat.
“I’m serious.” He pressed, his lips brushing against the skin of your cheek. The nostalgic prick of his stubble sent your mind racing; shifting your face away from his uncomfortably. “Don't be like that.” His arms squeezed your waist affectionately, only making you want to cry even more.
“I can't do this with you anymore.” Your voice came out hushed. Foreign. Broken. A thick silence overtook the two of you. By this point, he was well aware of your emotions, tears finally breaking free from their confinements. You two had been through so much, and it always seemed like you were the one sacrificing for the sake of the relationship, never the other way around. Hidan’s odd religious practices were well known by the villagers, and although Hidan was indifferent to being excommunicated, you were not. Unlike him, you had a family, dear friends, and a strong connection with your sensei- but you had forfeited it all just to be by his side. Your choice had caused you to be guilty by association, and everyone deserted you for it. Hidan was forbidden from entering the village, but you were not, so you were tasked with the burden of entering when rations ran low.
At first, no one dared to bother you, only an assortment of hushed whispers and dirty looks were the extent of your troubles. But as Hidan started experimenting with sacrificial rituals, the hate grew, and so did their courage. You were faced with family members of the missing citizens, and although they had no substantial proof that he was behind the disappearances, you were still used as a universal scapegoat, continuously beaten, berated, and bruised.
Not once had you told Hidan, God knows what would have happened if you had told him. With your medical training, you were able to heal yourself before coming back home, but you knew he had his suspicions. You often wondered if Hidan knew, although he never asked. Only offering comfort and silent solace when he often found you curled up in a sobbing mess. You had given up everything in this world just to be with him, and he had the audacity to leave you after successfully tearing up your life.
That was why today had been so special. Ryuk was the first person to have spoken to you since your painful isolation started, and the first person other than Hidan in five years. He had defended you when the villagers had thrown rocks, the news of Hidan's dealings with the Akatsuki having finally spread throughout the nation. But he didn't judge you, instead, he gave you silent hope that maybe, just maybe, you could one day return to a life of semi normalcy. You found it foolish now, eyes locked on the supposed hope, his mangled body sprawled on your floor.
“Hidan,” you choked out, crying even harder, your eyes locked on the hollow, soulless orbs of your saviour. The silver haired male begun lightly lathering your neck and cheek with soothing kisses, sensing your growing panic. “I gave up everything for you..” You breathed out in horror, “He-I, I-” you began to grow louder, hiccupping through the tears; breathing picking up to the point where he thought you'd pass out from hysteria. “I have nothing! Nothing!”
“Shhh, [N/n]-” he squeezed your squirming form, your tiny fists pounding his arms.
“Don't call me that! I-I only had you! My family, my friends! My entire. Fucking. Village. Abandoned me! And you, you left me.” The last sentence was eerily quiet, eyes bulging out as you turned in his arms to face him. The extent of your situation finally hitting you- fists beating on his chest in agony, repeating the words, louder and louder, as you thrashed violently in his hold. “You left me! You left me!”
“[F/n], I’m sorry-”
“LET GO OF ME!”
“[F/n]! Listen!” He reasoned, trying his hardest to contain you. You could feel the gaze of the unoccupied body boring into your back, the need to run away suffocating you, air thick with guilt.
“No-” He silence you with his lips, firmly holding your face still with both hands. You tried to protest, crying harder as he pressed deeper, bruising the soft skin of your lips. After a moment of pressed faces, he started moving softly, as if he was afraid to set you off again. Squeezing your eyes shut, you begun to wound his newly adorned cloak within your knuckles, attempting to rip the putrid fabric to shreds. [L/s] lips began to move against his, but in no way as gentle as him. An insistent, strong urge to harm him pushed itself to the forefront of your distressed mind. You wanted to hurt him, make him feel pain, make his heart twist and break with the agony, the tragedy, that was your awry love. Make him feel the burden that plagued your being. Slowly, the opening to your mouth lifted, waiting for him to slide his tongue past yours, rubbing the appendage gently before biting down as hard as you could.
“Son of a-” The swear came out odd, jerking back to cradle his chin. Spitting out a mouthful of blood into his hand, he continued to curse in disbelief, barely noting when you calmly stood, finally getting a grip on your emotions. Grabbing a box of tissues from the coffee table, you threw it on his lap and turned to leave.
“I’m going to bed.”