Chapter Text
In the deep depths of hell, the Akatsuki were paying for their awful deeds from their lives on earth.
It was awful. The worst kind of torture!
No, they weren’t getting burned alive.
No, they weren’t getting whipped and beaten by the demons.
They’d rather get their stomachs gutted than withstand this torture!
“Goddamnit Hidan! You turned this cafe into a bloodbath!”
“You’ve got to be kidding me. Now we have another month of this to endure.”
“You fool. I should turn you into a puppet for that!”
“I couldn’t help it, assholes!” Hidan yelled, gesturing to the bloody bodies that were lying on the floor, “I have to do it for Jashin!”
“Those were our customers, idiot!” Deidara yelled.
“Are you stupid?” Kakuzu growled, “You’re dead, you brain dead numbskull. Your ‘god’ took away your immortality, so there’s no point in you slaughtering for him! You just added extra time for this shit!”
Everyone began to yell at the albino. Pointing fingers, getting in his face, and all that shit.
Itachi rubbed his head. He thinks his stress lines might have grown from that.
The Uchiha sighed, then said, “Let’s just clean up and start over. The day resets tomorrow. At least try to not commit any monstrosities.”
His eyes sneakily glanced at Hidan, but the man was too dumb to see the implication.
They all agreed, but there was a problem.
They always agreed to start over, but never followed through.
The next day, Sasori was just not having it.
“Uhh, one oreo crumble frappe with extra whipped cream,” a woman requested, staring at the redhead with no emotion. Sasori’s tired eyes looked up at her as if to say ‘really?’.
“Want some coffee with that sugar?” he couldn’t help but mumble.
The woman glared at him, “How rude! You shouldn’t be judging people for their taste!”
The man rolled his eyes, “I don’t care. Kisame, get this woman her diabetes in a cup.”
Kisame just sighed, and went to make the drink.
The woman glared at him, lips pulling up slightly. Sasori frowned at her, noticing the people waiting for her to move.
“Lady, you’re holding up the line,” he said, “Pay for your drink and move to the side.”
“No! I’m not paying for shit service!” she yelled, even stomping her heel into the floor. Sasori rose a brow at her childish attitude, then felt his own patience run thin, which was very little in the first place.
“Pay me, or leave without your ‘coffee’,” he seethed through his teeth.
“Where’s the fucking manager?!” she yelled, getting close to his face. He didn’t lean back, and instead got closer to her’s.
His patience was gone.
Sasori jumped over the counter, making everyone scream. A sadistic grin made its way onto his face when she tried to run, and he tore off his uniform. The long coil in his stomach whipped out and impaled her, poison seeping into her blood.
The woman screamed, trying to pull the coil out of her stomach. Sasori felt his eyes go wide, and the grin just wouldn’t leave. Yes, she could be his puppet. Not a useful one, just a puppet to add to his collection of victims.
Before he could jump onto her and gut her, two arms held his waist back, and he glared at whoever it was.
“Chill out, my man!” Deidara yelled desperately, and Sasori let the man pull him back. The coil ripped out of her stomach, leaving it stained with blood.
The cafe was left empty once again with a dead body on the floor.
“I expected more from you,” Deidara frowned. Then, his brows rose in thought, “Actually, maybe I didn’t, yeah. You’re too impatient to work the register.”
Sasori shoved Deidara off of him, and angrily made his way back over the counter.
“Guess Hidan and Sasori aren’t the ones for the register,” Kisame thought out loud, “Maybe Kakuzu should give it a shot? You’re good with money, right?”
Kisame looked at the masked man, who was giving him a glare.
The tall man crossed his arms, “Perhaps.”
“Okay. Let’s try that instead. Hidan, clean up that mess.”
“What the fuck?! Why not Sasori?!” Hidan yelled, pointing angrily at the redhead.
“It’s punishment for yesterday,” Kisame explained, handing the man a mop that came out of nowhere.
“What?! I had to clean up yesterday, too!”
“No, we all did,” Kakuzu intervened.
“Exactly. If tomorrow ends up with another damn murder, which I bet it will, then Sasori will clean it. That’s the new rule.”
Everyone mumbled, not exactly pleased.
When Kisame turned around, Kakuzu gave the man a nasty glare. The kind where his forehead wrinkled terribly.