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Her name is Fuu, she says. Fuu, like the sound people make when they see something disgusting. “— yuck! Ick! Gross. That’s me!” She beams at Hidan.
“Disgusting, huh?” Hidan snorts, crossing an arm over his knee. A three-bladed scythe—hewn from ribs, feathers, and a single bird skull—dangles idly from his clawed fingers. “Ain’t that some shit.”
Fuu blinks. “Ah?” Her arms stretch above her head, bound tightly to the saddle of a horse. It grunts, flicking her with a tail. “Ow!”
Hidan laughs. “I mean, I’m way worse than that,” he waves vaguely at himself, his crown of bones, the vultures overhead. “Y’know?”
“Not… really?” Fuu half-lies. “I don’t get out much,” which is even less true. More, “people don’t, um, talk to me,” she adds, with a laugh. Unless she’s tied to their horse. Then they have no choice.
“Wowwwwwww~” Hidan hooks a pinkie into his ear. “Talk about sad.”
“Wh- hey!”
“And lame.” He flicks something away. “Cringe.”
A flush rises in Fuu’s cheeks.
“You…” She thrashes around, toes squirming through the dirt, and kicks out. “— jerk ! Who asked you?!”
Hidan leans to the side—her foot flies by. “Seriously?” he mutters. He dodges another foot. “ You brought it up. I’m just being honest.”
Fuu kicks again, and Hidan whirls around, scythe flashing, to snatch her ankle.
“That— that is…” Fuu stammers, dangling mid-air. Hellish eyes burn into hers.
She isn’t the first girl he’s whisked away, on the breath of a storm, to dark and bloody places. She won’t be the last, for sure. How she has survived this long, why he hasn’t killed her—
—Fuu falls with a squeak.
“You’re lucky I like you,” Hidan huffs, flopping onto the grass. He awkwardly scratches the back of his head, jostling the string of tiny bones.
He? Liked her? “Really?”
Hidan laughs again. “As a cat likes a limping mouse.”
“… gross.” She wants to cry. “Really, really gross.”