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“ - but both of your arms cut off? What a wuss you are, Deidara-chan!”
Hidan heightened voice to the shrilly tones, as a scoff. It was grating, not just on Deidara’s ears but Kakuzu’s as well. He’s gotten used to it, to tell the truth, but would rather do without a banter more becoming a pack of hormone-stricken teenagers than S rank missing nins. See, this is why Kakuzu operated solus for years, this buffoonery’s only purpose is to shoot his blood pressure up, more often than not climaxing with a carnage.
If he had his arms bomber would have exploded. This way Deidara could only pull a face and seethe, all talk and no walk. “Damn you…” he girted teeth, cheeks painted red from rage.
Listless bark, Kakuzu noted with mid curiosity, till he reflected on the reason behind Deidara’s visit. No, he stands corrected, there’s nothing odd about Deidara’s demeanor, leastwise not on the surface. Unlike the two of them kid is painfully mortal. Injuries alongside days of unrest drained, he’s lacking energy to quarrel with Hidan.
“Don’t be so mean to the senpai Hidan-san!” a third voice chimed in, squawky, cartoonish. A glimpse of galling orange teed off. It was easy to forget about purported fool’s presence. Alarmingly easy.
Kakuzu frowned behind his own mask. There’s something about this Tobi guy that made his skin crawl. He couldn’t pin it down, couldn’t put into the exact words, which just bolstered the suspicion. No one wears mask without a reason, case in point, himself. This person before him, therefore, is nothing but a persona. Whatever he deemed worth hiding in the ill-famed criminal organization composed of monsters… it cannot be anything short of horrifying.
“He’s tried his best!” Tobi continued defending Deidara’s dignity, hands on hips and tone joyful.
“Even if that best means getting pummeled by the nine tails,” or maybe not. He’s siding with Hidan on this one, rubbing salt into wounds.
“Tobi!” Deidara screeched. “Who’s side are you on!?”
Hidan tipped chin, as he tends to when crowing, purplish eyes glimmering and corners of lips curling into a trademark villainous smirk. “Hah, not even your new partner takes your side blonde!” he exclaimed, pointing at Tobi, sleeve riding up and revealing stitches Kakuzu made this morning.
Black served as a stark contrast to the pale skin, flawless and ethereal, unweathered by the pain he regularly inflicts upon himself. Despite being all muscle Hidan’s skin is surprisingly soft to touch. Kakuzu could recall with great vividness how warm it felt under fingertips as… wait, just what is he doing? Waxing poetic about Hidan? Kakuzu groaned inwardly, willing the absurd line of thoughts away. By all indications this clownery is contagious.
“You’re so pathetic man,” Hidan gloated, and Kakuzu swore it was aimed at him. He glowered, more than ready to give Hidan hell, before it hit him Hidan can’t read minds and that dig was likely meant for Deidara. Of course.
Notwithstanding the own slip Kakuzu had to snort. His idiot partner ran his mouth like he hasn’t sustained similar injuries just a day prior. Deidara had no knowledge of that, thus no ammunition for firing off. He kept mouth shut as Hidan chaffed. “Maybe you should have went out with a bang you love so much, sissy!”
“So rude, Hidan-san!” Tobi persona pretended to berate but voice was tellingly dulcet. He’s getting a kick out of this. “It’s nothing short of a miracle senpai has made it back in one piece… or perhaps not so much.”
It was comical how fast Deidara’s face changed colors. They’ve really rounded up on this hapless kid, haven’t they? If Kakuzu had it in him he would have felt a pang of sympathy. Hidan clasped belly and burst into a heartfelt laughter, frame quivering and tears sliding from corners of eyes. It’s rare to see him genuinely happy, sadistic thrill of a kill excluded. He has a nice laugh, Kakuzu’s mind supplied, traitorously. There he goes again with sappy nonsense.
“You piece of shit…” Deidara sizzled, head bent and frame trembling, perhaps in fury, perhaps in exhaustion, hard to gauge. “I’m going to kill you both!” a bark without a spark, it was evident he's operating on the last atoms of strength.
If Hidan took note of the creeping enervation threatening to make Deidara’s knees buckle he made no references. Kakuzu surmised he didn’t, otherwise would have taken a mickey out of it. “How?” Hidan jeered nonetheless.
“With that same mouth you use for barking?” he flashed a smile full of teeth and took a belligerent stance, as a provocation. “I’d like to see you try!”
Tobi droned something Kakuzu was too fed up to decipher. Fizzing a few hisses Deidara bared teeth, taking the bait. Kakuzu bit back an urge to sigh from the bottom of his soul. He envisaged how next couple minutes will unfold. Deidara lunges at Hidan, recklessly, undeterred by the fact he’s missing both arms. Psyched up by the prospect of a battle, subsequently a sacrifice, Hidan fishes out a spike and strikes back. Kid will probably dodge, courtesy of Hidan not taking the fight all the seriously. Leader would have his ass if he sacrifices an Akatsuki member, especially so soon after the loss of one. Kakuzu couldn’t be bothered by the loss of life, however he transferred that into the loss of income and stomach gave a nasty twist; better intervene on time.
Or maybe this fool playing everyone else for a fool would. Although Kakuzu wasn’t counting on it, at least not in a way that’d pull the curtains on this bedlam. After a bit of scuffling Tobi would buzz in, not to smooth things out but add oil to the fire in an insidious manner betokening nothing but higher intelligence, telltale sign there’s more to him than it meets the eye. Deidara would fume even more, Hidan begin his religious platter and…
sigh. Something in that scuffle would so go awry, he could feel it.
Kakuzu pinched temple, exasperation welling up, hitting the roof. Oh spare him the headache.
“ENOUGH.”
His yell finally pulled the curtains on the tomfoolery. Three pairs of eyes looked his way, one obscured by the mask, one by the side bangs, and last open, but narrowed and seething that playtime has been cut short. Spark in them conveyed blood is roaring for a thill. Hidan is dead set on getting his share of fun, by hook or by crook. Shitty brat, Kakuzu scolded mentally with more lenience than healthy, everything considered.
Fortunately no one said a thing. They all gawked, blankly, stupidly. Not a single brain cell present, Kakuzu mourned his fate of working with these dimwits. A second more of this buffoonery and Akatsuki won’t suffer a loss of one member but four, courtesy of their penchant for stirring nonsense and evening his lower and upper blood pressure. He had to deal with Hidan on daily basis, putting up with Tobi and Deidara isn’t on his to-do list.
First thing first, the one with undisclosed cards. “You,” Kakuzu sizzled gutturally, glaring daggers at Tobi. He won’t feel at ease as long as that persona is around.
“Y-yes?” fool tensed up and stuttered. Or, at least, fronted fright. Hidan and Deidara, both awfully young and unweathered by the tough wicked shinobi life adhering by no rules, didn’t seem to suspect there’s more to the goofy character than it reached the eye.
Therefore. “Scram,” Kakuzu bristled, protectively.
For a split second chakra flared up, thick and dim, darker than black, but drenched in blood. Too much blood. A blink, and it was gone. Maybe he imagined it, maybe projected mistrust onto this wacky persona, it was next to impossible to tell for certain. Nonetheless, Kakuzu knew there is a very good reason why Tobi’s presence racks him, a veteran S rank criminal who’s lived through three shinobi wars, with uneasiness. The sooner he’s gone, the better.
“Understood sir!” Tobi struck a salute gesture, shivers racing up spine. “So scary!” he made a run for it, all but tripping over his feet; a player.
Good riddance. One migraine taken care off. Kakuzu swirled towards Deidara next. “You,” he hissed but with less bite.
Sounding a nasal grunt of recognition Deidara peered up, gaze seeing but far from fully lucid. “Sit down,” Kakuzu instructed, patience wearing thin. “And don’t make this difficult, I’m not a man of patience.”
Kid seated himself on a rock, but not before mouthing ‘if that doesn’t ring the bell’, sarcasm heavily dripping. Kakuzu huffed, as a warning. Luckily it was unneeded. Deidara was bright enough to grasp the unenviable position he’s in, that he’s only making things difficult for himself, in the long shot.
Another bother taken care of. Lastly. “And you,” Kakuzu fully turned towards his personal headache. Intimate nuisance he couldn’t bring himself to eliminate.
Hidan glowed up, sadistic grin replaced with a lopsided smile, gaze no longer teeming with blood lust but something equally ardent, yet less vicious. “Yes Kakuzu-chan?”
They’ve been partners for years, Kakuzu knows him like the back of own palm. Unuttered’s and lousy woven in between the lines are, therefore, clear as day. Mockery was coated in adoration, reflected by the softening gleam in eyes. So simple. Behind the safety of the mask Kakuzu felt free to smirk, for he, just like that, felt a fraction lighter.
Hidan soaks in attention. But not any attention, basks in exclusively his. Kakuzu will never admit it to his face but he came to cherish that frankness, utter absence of inhibitions and semblance. If there’s a thing about Hidan it’s that he’s simple. No ax to grind, no ulterior motives whatsoever. Everything is out in the open. Whatever he’s feeling, he’ll show it, raucously and crudely, void of a filter tailored for an artful gain. Hidan never curbs on any aspect of himself to appease. For those reasons, paradoxically, there is a sense of safety around him that cannot be found around other members, much less those well-behaved.
Akin fondness brewed inside Kakuzu’s chest, tempering the rising ire. “Just keep your tap shut for five minutes,” he heaved a defeated sigh, luckily also concealed.
“Just five minutes?” Hidan asked, surprised. Puzzlement didn’t stick for long. “You always take far longer with me, you know?” he droned, dreamily, suggesting he knew exactly what this is about.
Normally Kakuzu would wryly indulge the clear flirtation, under the guise of impassivity. Normally they don’t have an audience. If it were some no name about to meet Hidan’s demon god Kakuzu wouldn’t give a shit. But this was another Akatsuki member, which, to be frank, didn’t look like he could button his lip. Kakuzu wasn’t keen on the entire shinobi world knowing he has a soft spot for an unruly religious zealot no one sane would let in their close vicinity, let alone come to cherish – let alone this disastrously much.
Kakuzu feigned a glare, a breeze when back of head was racking already. “What did I say about blabbering!?” and flared, hopping innuendo flew over Deidara’s head. “A word more and I’ll sew your mouth shut next!”
His brat of a partner either didn’t grasp the tacit warning to tone it down or didn’t give a fuck; likely the latter. Hidan leaned against his scythe, poked tongue out and warbled, gleam in eyes mischief. “Understood sweetie.”
Oh he just had to. Veins on neck pulsated. Eye twitched, like about to pop out of the socket due to ascending blood pressure. It took Kakuzu inhuman efforts to not strangle his idiot partner right here and now. Alas, Hidan can’t die, and if he puts his hands on the freak now that he’s clearly spurred on banter would quickly take on a far nastier turn. If kid hasn’t puzzled them out by now, he surly will by then, in the worst way conceivable.
Kakuzu shoot Hidan a last warning glare (which he knew won’t do shit, but still), before glimpsing down. Deidara didn’t made any snide remarks, not a sign of recognition. In fact, kid wasn’t even looking at them, heavy eyes locked to the grass, aweary, close to unseeing. Injuries combined with days on foot must have taken their toll, he must be on the verge of collapsing. Nonetheless, he has S rank missing nin brain. Kakuzu harbored no illusions Deidara didn’t stash this mortifying piece of information in the back of mind. If kid knows what’s good for him he’ll keep all his mouths shut.
For the umpteenth time in the span of minutes Kakuzu sighed. Better get on with this, to keep himself occupied and pulsating jugular vein in check. Not stalling a second longer he sat beside Deidara, fetched his severed arm and got to work, refusing to spare Hidan a look. It’ll rile him up, he just knew it.
Right arm was originally Deidara’s, evident by the mouth, but right was some random nin’s. Usually that wouldn’t be an issue, however Deidara relied on those hand mouths for his ninjutsu. Without those he’ll be useless to the organization. “Your kinjutsu -”
“It’ll grow back,” Deidara stated, tersely, void of emotion.
Curt, straight to the point. How shinobi’s ought to conduct, yet uncharacteristic of Deidara, who, similarly to Hidan, liked the sound of his galling voice a bit too much. Peculiarity, notwithstanding its tactile roots, beset with a sense of foreboding. Kakuzu tried not to dwell too much on it and went on.
Threads slithered out of the sleeve. For a moment Kakuzu wanted to warn how this will sting a little (a lot, according to Hidan, but brat is hyperbolizing pain to get on his nerves), but recognized inanity of cautioning. Deidara had both his arms hewed off and could still walk and talk without noticeable difficulties, this should be nothing in comparison.
Tendrils connected biceps to the rest of arm. Kakuzu mentally winced, not for the pain elicited but for the incoming whining; heaven knows Hidan never forbore from expressing how ‘it fucking hurts you fucking sadistic piece of shit’, just to get under his skin. There was not a peep, not a wince. One hell of an impressive pain threshold, he had to admit. Or kid has dissociated entirely, who knows. Bangs covered a lot but didn’t cover everything. Kakuzu spied the eye bags, stiff upper lip, days worth of fatigue spelled in slacked frame, exhaustion of the heart etched into far young features.
Cognitively Kakuzu knew Deidara is young, but only upon seeing the supercilious bomber this undone it hit him like a tidal wave how young. He’s around eighteen now, right? That made him around fourteen when recruited into the Akatsuki. What pushed Deidara into deserting Iwakagure, Kakuzu could only speculate, withal it was easy to imagine a myriad of ways things could have going sour. Flung into the callous world of shinobis too soon. But then again, no one asked him if he was ready when they’ve sent him to take down the strongest ninja to this date, at no considerably older age. And then they had a nerve to vilify him when he failed, robbing of not just freedom but ability to trust. In that aspect Deidara was lucky Leader didn’t press for a punishment, but that’s just the tip of the iceberg.
Eight decades later and system is still the same, unyielding and unfeeling, serving only those in power while throwing own pawns to the wolves. Dyed-in-wool customs coated in indoctrinating nationalism, hailing dying for the cause as the ultimate sacrifice, virtue of all virtues. Kakuzu half snorted, half sneered. Some things never change. Not because there aren’t individuals capable and willing to execute the reform, but because system, profiting from the status quo, perpetually maligns the aforementioned beacon of hope.
That’s water under the bridge now, otiose to reflect on. He’s not that credulous child who believes in justness anymore, hence operates outside the system that outlawed him – all of them. Not emitting a sound Kakuzu pulled away, slanted head and inspected. Deidara read his intentions, extended arm and tested the mobility; all good, on the surface. Stitches connected his arms to the rest of body, but there was no precision in it, no attention to the finer detail or overall appearance, accent was solely on the functionality.
It was… grotesque work, Kakuzu acknowledged. Showcased he’s a not a medic, or an artisan. Hidan never seemed to mind, apparently neither does Deidara. Not like kid had a choice, but still, Kakuzu was expecting a clue of disdain, some sign it’s an offense to his pretentious artistic senses. There were none. Either kid was too drained for a proper reaction or he really did not care. Consequentially, Kakuzu didn’t either.
Sasori, on the other hand, would have far more to say. His eye for the finer beauty would be appalled if he ever gets to see his partner’s arms. But he won’t, because he is no more. That’s why Kakuzu is left to tie his loose ends. Sasori’s eternity turned out to be far briefer than avowed, proving Kakuzu right – nothing is meant to last forever.
It’d be easy to gloat, but ultimately childish, pointless. Sasori was his comrade, Kakuzu didn’t take delight in his demise, the opposite, was unsettled on a rudimentary level. It reaffirmed his inkling the cloud of death looms over the Akatsuki, soaked in crimson blood. It’s only a matter of time it yanks all their chains. No one is truly immortal, not that puppeteer, not himself.
Not Hidan.
Tension coiled in the pit of Kakuzu’s stomach, twisting and turning like a blade stuck deep inside flesh. Creeping goosebumps raced up spine, panted against neck, whispered the presage, razor sharp fangs grazing skin, not like a warning but an omen.
Kakuzu shuddered at the vividness of own imagination, if the herald of a vanquishment could be dubbed that. He was riddled with unease.
Too much unease.
It was unbearable. Insultingly unbearable for a shinobi of his status and age. Kakuzu did something he never thought he would – instigated a conversation as a mean of distraction. “Konoha nin you’ve said?”
Sound of his gruff voice snapped Deidara out of trance. “Yea…” kid hummed, begrudgingly. Luckily he swallowed reluctance and went on before Kakuzu had to pry words out of his mouth. “It was a close call. Copycat ninja Kakashi took my elbow from a distance, I haven’t seen it coming. Some sharingan hack as usual, un.”
“Holy shit,” Hidan gasped, ignoring Kakuzu’s order to not intervene. Of course that was bound to happen, concept of tranquility is lost on the shitty brat.
“Ocular bullshit from what? Dozen meters?!” Hidan gaped, discomfort and disbelief blending on features. Deidara gave a curt nod. “That sounds like cheating!” promoting Hidan to bleach.
For once Kakuzu had to agree, albeit within privacy of thoughts. If he chimes in with own opinion this topic will drag on and on, exacerbating the very trepidation he’s trying to shove into the back of psyche. It’ll make a nest, like a pit of vipers, slithering and sizzling, squeezing the life out of him on a regular basis, never remitting.
Or maybe, just maybe, malaise is a blessing in disguise. Maybe he’s to take it to the heart, and do something about it while there’s still time. That’s the catch – just what is he to do with the blood dribbling from the crimson cloud hovering above head? Too late to mend his ways, he’s done too much, with too little penitence. Too early to taste bitter regret, karma is yet to knock at his door. But it will, and it’ll reap what he’s sowed, of that Kakuzu had no doubt. It’ll reap, with a swift sweep of the scythe, taking his undoer away, as the only punishment worth inflicting upon the hermitic likes of him.
“It was cheating,” seethed Deidara, with notably less fervor than usual. “Then the nine tails Jinchuriki swooped in and beat me into a bloody pulp. If it weren’t for my quick thinking to swap myself with a clay clone we wouldn’t be having this conversation now, hm.”
Biting inside of mouth and pouting like a petulant child Deidara lifted hand to scratch the back of nape. “Geez, what a pack of a prosaic bunch, hm,” he rolled eyes, sulky.
“But clearly powerful,” Kakuzu interjected, not attempting to conceal an upbraiding undertone. “Don’t move your arm, I’ve just fixed it,” Deidara sounded a tiny oh, implying he disobeyed on an incident, not purpose.
This kid has been a part of the organization for what now? Nigh to four years? Should have learned an iota of tactfulness by now, which battles are worth fighting, which yield no profit, and which are straight out suicide. Evidently not. At this rate he’ll be pushing up daises before he stops pushing twenties. In all forthrightness, everyone was surprised he made it for this long. Probably did thanks to Sasori being there to step in whenever things get too heated.
Speaking of. “Sasori didn’t help you?” Kakuzu asked levelly, not bothering to mince words. By the flinch alone he deduced that yes, his late partner is a sore topic. Wounds too fresh, full scope of the damage still unprocessed, it’s the rawest caprices that give away.
Kakuzu got a hold of the left arm. “Move to the side,” and worked tendrils, still not in the mood for waiting. No, just the opposite, lump in throat grew heavier with each minute spent in the close proximity of anguish this tactual, oppressive – this close, this real.
Deidara did as instructed, wordless but glum. He scooted, head still hung, but bangs no longer shielding. From that angle Kakuzu had a far easier time reading his facial expression. Eyes partially lidded and glassy, lips quivering, jaw clenched – yet it was the heaviness of the chakra emitted that illustrated he’s on the verge of a breakdown. Not volatile, not characteristic for his explosive nature, just a pitiable disintegration befitting a child whose entire life came crashing down before their eyes.
Little by little threads linked the left arm as well. Deidara observed it with a distant look, not an ounce happier now that he has both arms back. It no longer mattered, not even for those explosions he dubs art. Odd indeed. Unnerving.
Throat rippled, he struggled swallowing, breathing. “We’ve… separated,” strident voice dwindled to a timid whisper, bespoke despair.
Kakuzu’s expression mellowed a fraction, tinged with something corresponding. So enemy has outwitted them. Perhaps ganged up on them, gulling into separation. Figures. Sasori is a formidable opponent, his poisons and puppets are not to be underplayed. In other words, puppet master must have been duped, somehow. A second of uncertainty can easily turn fatal. A bitter conclusion, far cry from novel, ergo all the more dismaying.
Agitation pulled at Kakuzu’s chest, sliced open with terrific precision and carved space for tension to infest. Death’s whispers are getting louder. Biting inside of cheek Kakuzu willed them away, gathered focus, tapered it and proceeded with the work anyways, adding the final touch to ensure stitches last. The sooner he’s done the sooner the kid will have a chance to unpack all he’s bottled up, grieve his partner without the worry humanity he’s expected to have shed will be held against him.
“I’ve… made us separate,” Deidara corrected after a while, unprompted by anything other than the stifling regret. Rue was thick and heavy, seeping not just from voice, but the entire being.
Kakuzu kept silent, with the same impassive expression. If kid was expecting a barrage of chides from his elder he’s in for a letdown. It’s not his place to chide, not his partner to watch after. Besides, he’s lacking the full picture. It goes without saying that Deidara’s perspective is colored by guilt. Who knows, maybe he’s actually made the right call. Maybe fate has decided to meddle, tightened the leash and collect the overdue. Maybe Sasori was never meant to walk away from that encounter, irregardless of Deidara’s courses of action.
Kid should realize it as well, yet was, by all appearances, too crushed for such feat. In reality it’s no feat at all, shouldn’t be, requires bare minimum of a mother wit. Seemingly that’s too much to ask. Intuition has never been Kakuzu’s guideline, but he’s never considered the gut feeling a vice either. He listened to it just sufficiently to read in between the lines and puzzle out what all of this is about.
Ah. It’s like that.
He has erred. Deidara’s atypically mellow demeanor doesn’t have that much to do with physical drain and injuries. Bereavement has a far firmer chain belted around his green heart, unused to longing, much less intimate loss. Sasori’s foolish philosophy of the everlasting beauty must have gulled the kid into believing this can never come to be, that he’s safe from a heartbreak. No wonder he’s this painfully, tangibly lost.
Kakuzu recognized the tincture of the grief. He gets a spoonful of it whenever dreading Hidan’s imprudence will cost him head. This isn’t a grief of losing your Akatsuki partner, a natural, ineluctable dose of the fear of change. No, this is grief of losing your life partner.
Deidara gulped, looked to the side and went on before he could inquiry. “He went against… his own grandmother, alongside some little girl from Konoha. Apparently she’s… trained under the fifth Hokage,” he made slight pauses, not to catch breath but recollect, voice wavering, indicatively. “I didn’t know that back then…”
Pitiable explanation was replaced with snivels. Squirming and twitching Deidara dropped head, and went awfully quiet. Greener soul would surmise pain had something to do with the odd conduct, that days of exhaustion have finally caught up to him. Kakuzu has seen enough, not just today but over the years. He had an inkling what type of relationship Deidara and Sasori have, this confirmed it. They always stood like a mirror before him, now turned into a presage he’s supposed to derive a lesson from.
Sniff was deafening in the dead silence. Kakuzu squinched, finding it tellingly hard to look at Deidara. Ah, the kid is really going to…
From the corner of the eye Kakuzu took note of Hidan addressing him with a curious look, head slanted, lips flat and gaze narrowed. Far from the sharpest tool in the shed, nonetheless it’s only a matter of time before even he puts two and two together. It’d be easy to let Hidan mock, rub salt into the wounds, but there was something truly vile in taking a mickey out of fate hair’s breadth away from befalling on them. Unlike Hidan. he doesn’t place trust in the spiritual, finds security in solely material. Even so, Kakuzu wasn’t too keen on tempting the ghastly fate. Call it a sixth sense.
“He’s… overestimated himself,” Deidara sniveled, voice breaking, frame shaking. “I’ve overestimated him…”
It was so simple, yet so heavy. Perhaps precisely because of the said simplicity, they’re not above falling on the beginner's mistakes. Rue marred words seared into Kakuzu’s mind, etched deep into flesh, like a writing on the wall.
Shiver snaked up the nape, sank fangs in and refused to relent. He didn’t know what to do with this jitteriness. “There,” Kakuzu jolted up too quickly, like he’s trying to run away from the perils existent only within the cages of his mind.
Abruptness of the motion caused Deidara to peer up, bangs continently covering puffy eyes. It unnerved, another barrage of malaise he struggled making sense out of but felt with terrific vividness. Kakuzu grunted and patted kid’s shoulder.
“Try not to move much for the next couple hours, unless you want stitches coming off and staying armless,” he turned away, not necessarily from Deidara but what he foments in this sorry state.
Seeing him done Hidan shot up as well. “Finally!” a sulk was plastered on lips. “I’ve gone damn stiff over here!” he whined, lackadaisically stretched arms above head but made no allusions to the trembling form scant meters away.
Kakuzu wanted it to stay that way, for own peace of mind, so indulged the charade. “You and your complaining Hidan, always full of energy,” there was a subtle innuendo to his words, voice accordingly throaty, meant mostly as a smokescreen, not an instigation.
Judging by the smirk Kakuzu felt confident fool swallowed it hook, line, and sinker. “Yea,” Hidan purred, huskily, violet eyes sultry. “I could use some unwinding,” he stroked the scythe, tantalizingly slow. What a freak, Kakuzu thought, a hypocrite, as he followed the beguiling movement of fingers.
“Good,” Kakuzu exhaled once he broke out of trance, then fibbed. “I’ve spied a commotion by the river west from here. Some civilians might have set up a camp, it’s worth inspecting.”
He’s killing two birds with one stone. Distance will not only ensure Hidan doesn’t ridicule and provide Deidara privacy without directly bringing his anguish up but also quash tension fomenting within himself. At least for the time being, deep down he knew it’ll shadow.
Hidan desisted from fruitless seduction and blinked slowly, doltishly, adorably. “You’re… offering me sacrifices?”
“I believe I am.”
Puzzled features morphed into the one of disbelief. “Am I dreaming?!” Hidan pinched himself, dopey smile breaking out. “Pinch me now!” and skipped too closer for Kakuzu’s liking, granted the audience. It won’t end with just a pinch, that’s a given.
Sure, Deidara was snowed under despair, perhaps dissolved into tears behind the veil of ridiculous bangs, but that made him neither blind nor deaf. “I’ll hit you, you dumbass,” hence Kakuzu growled, spinelessly, and ventured deeper into the forest, towards the supposed river.
“Kakuzuuuu I didn’t know you have it in you to be so nice!” his intimate headache kept on wailing, gaze, fortunately, locked on him. This lousy distraction might as well work out.
“Shut up Hidan and follow,” Kakuzu snapped, starting to be a bit irked for real.
Rustling of the leaves suggested Hidan did as told, but he didn’t feel like peeking over shoulder, not out of dread Hidan’s cheeky grin might needle, but the source of snivels. The past and future wailed in one go.
Kakuzu picked up speed; so did Hidan, no protests whatsoever. They made it deeper into the forest, weeps nothing but a haunting memory. By some miracle first few minutes were spent in silence. Hidan sauntered to his left, seemingly in no hurry to reach the sacrifices, hands cupping back of head, mouth curiously closed. No probing, no jibes, no attempts at extracting the answers to the questions he must have. Oddity led Kakuzu to believe Hidan has read into the small print. Now that would be a real miracle, he kidded inwardly.
Except it wouldn’t. Not too much. Kakuzu has seen enough over the years to shatter the misconception regarding Hidan’s intelligence, or lack thereof. He can be astonishingly sharp when given an incentive to, which is, unfortunately, once in a blue moon. Nevertheless, he’s not as dumb as his crude demeanor, vulgar mouth and rashness depict, just sees no point in using his brain when he knows all his fumbles will be amended. He knows he’ll be bailed out of any trouble, and feels free to utterly yield to the any and every impulse.
Laxness of that foolish degree spoke of even more foolish degree of trust. On one hand Kakuzu felt chuffed, naturally, however couldn’t overlook the repercussions of Hidan’s recklessness, much less after Deidara’s loss put the wind up him, hence gloomed. You’re relying on me too much.
Silence couldn’t last forever. Too many issues swept under the rug, it’s only a matter of time someone trips. Hidan, being Hidan, had to run his mouth. “You know Kakuzu…”
The tone alone rubbed Kakuzu the wrong way; vowels too stretched out, voice too orotund, signaling the piqued curiosity. Alarms went off inside head. No good.
“You were never that gentle with me,” Hidan leaned into his side, not a drop of outlandish jealousy in voice, just whingeing exemplifying wry amusement. Ironically Kakuzu would rather it’s the former, even if tomfoolery is bound to needle, at least it wouldn’t unsettle in a manner that lingers. Because no, this wasn’t merely about fixing wounds.
I’m gentle with you in other ways. “If I were you’d never stop teasing,” Kakuzu reasoned, biting back an impulse to grunt; it’d disclose more than he’s comfortable with at the current, ill at ease.
“It’ll be annoying”, he clicked tongue but didn’t push Hidan away, dusting the point he’s trying to drive with not so thin layer of hypocrisy.
“And you’d be tempted to crack my skull open,” Hidan filled in, laughing softly. “I know, I know. You old fucks sure have a way of showing affections,” hooked their arms and spoke with similar affections, melting a fraction of anxiety prickling skin. This brat makes it far too easy to forget.
“Like the sacrifices for my rituals,” a diverted hum. “Right?” Hidan craned neck and asked levelly, void of a flicker.
Absence of radiating blood lust was telling. Kakuzu saw no point in maintaining the charade. “Nonexistent,” and thus, deadpanned.
He, justly, expected an eruption. It never arrived. “I knew it,” Hidan puffed cheeks and huffed, strangely peaceful about losing his precious sacrifices. “Was too fucking good to be true,” he grumbled with a curt head shake, not a smidgen of fury traceable in expression.
Hidan didn’t seem surprised, surprising Kakuzu in turn. He halted, brows raised and nose wrinkled up, dozen questions resting heavy on tip of tongue. None were uttered, none were needed to. Hidan took the shift in tone as a sign to let go, but didn’t put distance, not to tee him, but because it didn’t feel right to. The undertone of intimacy could no longer be negated.
“You knew”, Kakuzu stated flatly, impassivity at odds with trepidation brewing inside chest.
Buzzing a few titters Hidan’s lips contorted into a sinister but light grin – a silent affirmation. He inclined head towards the pasture behind them, and gibed. “You think blonde’s bawling his eyes out by now or blowing shit up to vent his frustrations?”
So Hidan figured that out too. Exceeded his expectations, that’s for sure. In one aspect Kakuzu was proud, in other unnerved, for it implied Hidan might be onto some other things too, is just biding his time, playing oddly clever about it. Swift look at dimwit’s askew smile, sardonic but unguarded, was enough to dispel the fallacy begotten by premonition. Paranoia diluted senses, didn’t it? Innocuous isn’t the word he’d use to describe Hidan, banish the mere idea of such asininity, but neither is artful, far from.
In retrospect, he felt silly for indulging such line of thoughts. Hidan isn’t dangerous, not in a conventional sense, just for the still beating human heart. Dyes it in colors he thought he’s long forgotten, forgone the foolish, ruinous need for. In that aspect Hidan’s senses may be honed out of exact same reasons his are – worry.
Kakuzu set the creeping unease cast by the presage of a grim future aside. “I hope it’s not the latter. The stitches would come off right away if he uses his kinjutsu,” he grumbled, jaw clenched, brows knitted.
A shrug complained by a snicker, nonchalance signaled the lack of care; figured. Hidan didn’t ask why he spared Deidara the humiliation, but previous dig about gentleness might as well be the roundabout sounding out.
Parrying, funnily enough, prompted Kakuzu to clarify. “You would have mocked.”
“That I would,” Hidan admitted straight away, bereft of a shred of shame or sympathy.
Chiding for the lack thereof would be preposterous, they’re both ruthless killers. Kakuzu’s reasons for mercy weren’t benevolent or empathetic, just appeared so due to the twist of circumstances. He was reassuring himself by reassuring that kid, act of sympathy but a selfish need to distance himself from the tactile source of bedevilment.
“Bottling up emotions is a recipe for disaster, especially with him,” shaking head, Kakuzu rasped and resumed meandering, suddenly overtaken by an urge to distance himself more from where they’ve left Deidara.
“Better let him cry it out, he’ll bring in more profit if in sound mind, as much as that’s achievable for a temperamental kid that plays with clay and explodes things on a whim”
“Heh,” Hidan snorted, following in step, arms still nervelessly behind head but features sharpening. Kakuzu expected him to latch onto the insults and pour a bucket of his own, but that wasn’t the case.
Instead, Hidan latched onto the matters far closer to the heart. “You are the one to talk, grumpy old miser”
Dig had Kakuzu’s jugular veins pulsating anew. “What’s that supposed to mean!?” he bristled, swirling towards Hidan, not knowing what to expect but also on edge, for he did, au fond.
“Oh you know,” a melliferous snicker, seething with acerbity. “You know well.”
This brat. Kakuzu’s eye twitched, vision going red. Boiling anger must have been tactile by how chakra flared up, but didn’t dissuade the fool. Hidan grabbed him by the elbow and reeled in, despite the danger. It took tremendous effort to not connect fist with his face and send him flying, for once not out of rage, but self-preservation. Too close to the heart. Too raw. These heavy topics are meant to stay unuttered, hardened shinobis of their leagues aren’t meant to talk about feelings, much less be swayed by them.
And yet…
If Hidan flashed a smirk he would have bowed to the impulse and painted the forest red. Serious look tempered, tinged with fuzziness abruptly taking over and soothing. But the weighting foreboding of the death breathing against neck, oh it remained, never to dwindle.
“You won’t suffer Deidara’s fate.”
Light breeze toying with hem of cloak turned into a gale slicing cheeks, hollow and glacial. It howled inside his head. Kakuzu felt cold. Too cold. So cold no amount of bickering, thinly veiled flirtation, could warm up this time, nothing but pulling wool over eyes. World narrowed, gradually paling into the monochrome. Nothing seemed real. Malaise engulfed entirely, numbed, prepared for the incoming bereavement.
Kakuzu stared blankly, expressively. “Hidan, you…”
“I’m not that stupid, okay?!” Hidan’s face twisted into a snarl. “For fuck’s sake Kakuzu,” he disgruntledly threw hands in the air, “we’ve been partners for almost three years now! I can tell when something’s troubling you man, even if you don’t show it!”
Emotions switched on crumpled features too briskly for Kakuzu to single out any, nonetheless detected concern mingling with frustration. Perhaps a fraction arose by his reticence, willingness to brood in silence, but a much larger portion must have streamed from the same source as Kakuzu’s, showcasing whatever madness molded in the shape of fondness stretched between them is far from one-sided.
“You’re worrying yourself sick in vain, old man. At this rate you’ll get high blood pressure, medicine would cost your stingy ass a fortune!”
Hidan rubbed back of head, tried to take the edge off by jesting, but futile. Kakuzu could tell how his voice cracked, words coming off as too urgent, too aggressive, like he’s trying to reassure himself, first and foremost.
Silence didn’t sit right with Hidan’s bubbling perturbation, so he went on, to fill it with anything, even prattle. “So cut me some slack, will ya? Last thing I need is you even more crabby than usual,” puffed through nose and meekly punched his shoulder. Pain grounded. Reassured. I’m here.
Feeling emboldened by his passivity, Hidan grabbed a handful of his collar, yanked closer and looked him straight in the eye, smirk replaced with solemnity. “I can’t die,” he stated what he always does, just with more bite, more conviction.
It’d be so easy to close eyes to the truth and trust him blindly, that he can’t fall victim to this cruel world’s macabre karma, but Kakuzu was above resorting to infantile escapism. He owes them both better, must be a voice of reason. But you can suffer a fate worse than death. Kakuzu kept the sneer to himself. It wouldn’t be a sneer at all, just plain, sick worry.
“But you, shitty old man,” Hidan frowned, had a nerve to poke his forehead, as if beating – as if he had any right to, when he’s the reason why Kakuzu is this unnerved in the first place.
“You actually can, even if it’ll be hard as fuck to kill you five times. It’s not impossible.”
Under any other circumstances Kakuzu would have gone ballistic at this audacity, ballsy hypocrisy. Warm breath ghosting over cheek placated. Alive. Fingers digging into shoulders with force betraying disquietude imbued with a false sense of security; it’d be disdainful to indulge the fantasy, too hefty, but vital for perseverance, at the current.
So he let it slide, just like he let everything slide with Hidan. This leniency nips away at judiciousness, undermines decades of inner fortifying, and will sign the beginning of his downfall.
Hidan heaved a sigh, closed eyes and rested forehead against his shoulder, exhaustion of the heart spelled out in every fiber of being. It’s rattling to see him this still. Clasp was lax. Too faint for Kakuzu’s liking, just like Hidan’s voice.
“I should be the one worried, you fuck…”
He overestimated himself. I overestimated him. Deidara’s grief stricken voice penetrated thoughts, welling unease up throat till Kakuzu found it hard to breathe. All five hearts clenched in synchronicity, five more would be too little to amend for the tension squeezing throat, a smothering ramification of allowing affections to creep under skin.
Swallowing a lump Kakuzu drew a deep breath, finally finding his voice. “You’re wrong Hidan,” and countered, arms curling around Hidan’s waist and bringing closer, unduly gently, carefully.
“You can’t die but you can be defeated,” Kakuzu reasoned, hoping for a lick of sense.
For once, his prayers were answered. Normally Hidan would fume otherwise, that his god is looking over him, hence he has nothing to worry about as long as he’s a faithful devotee. None of that happened. Aside a stressed exhale there was no reaction. Hidan slopped head, eyes heavily lidded and filled with the same anxiety Kakuzu recognized in himself – a beginning thread of uncertainty. For the first time he saw Hidan doubtful regarding his abilities, consequentially faith. He didn’t know how to feel about that, couldn’t gauge if it bodes for a breakthrough or is about to sound the death knell.
“I won’t let you suffer that fate,” a soft murmur, hardly audible, yet spoken with conviction worth believing – like an oath, stained in blood. Reflexively Kakuzu tautened the hold, fearing Hidan might slip through fingers if he doesn’t hold onto him tight enough.
If he figured what suffocating embrace was for, Hidan said nothing. Releasing a grunt bordering with a sniff he reciprocated, raked fingers over Kakuzu’s back, clasping and clutching with desperation bespeaking akin fright paralyzing, instilling, crippling. For a death god to come to know fear, not for himself but another, it couldn’t be anything short of madness itself. The one society that has banished the likes of them has a four letter word for.
“If we’re going down, we’re going down together.”