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"Alright, Uchiha, against my better judgment, we took your route--where's the damn rest stop?"
"We'll be there soon."
"Soon? My stomach isn't fuckin' waiting for soon!"
"Zip it, preacher man, or you'll be bitching with your lips up your ass."
"Make me, fishsticks!"
"Uchiha, I demand the map."
Stalled at a fork in the dirt, half of the Akatsuki now stood on the outskirts of Hidden Grass, bickering and heckling over a dog-eared map as they snapped and sneered at each other as the weather continue to grow gloomy.
"Uchiha, you are horrible with directions," Kakuzu groaned, "Give me back my map. We're going the route I originally picked before it begins to rain."
"Trust me, I've been to this shop before." Itachi insisted, squinting into the trail markings, "If only I had better eyes..."
Hidan now made a swipe for the parchment, "Oi, I'm cold, hungry, and I gotta take a shit--give me the map and let's fucking get on with our day!"
"Zealot, you've told us that you are illiterate."
The scuffling of hands was ended swiftly by Kisame, yanking Hidan and Itachi apart as they hissed insults at each other. While he tore the younger men apart, Kakuzu snatched back his map, grumbling at the creases and tears.
"Knock it off, or I start biting," Kisame warned, "Now, Kakuzu, figure out where the Hell we are so we can finally stop trudging through this damned sinkhole of a village."
With their bearings resettled and Itachi removed from navigation preferences, the Akatsuki slinked their way into a nearby outpost, their bloodstained, soil-soaked robes enough to deter anything more curious than a prying eye or hesitate glance. Sifting their way through fish stands, street vendors, and flower shops, Kisame finally located their destination: a tiny tea shop hidden between a concubine club and a laundromat that Kakuzu swore was a previous loan sharking front.
At the doorway, Hidan peered around the street, eyes wary.
"Looks kinda gay, the four of us fuckers walking into a sweets shop."
"You said you were starving, right?" Itachi rolled his eyes.
Once inside, the group was settled in a backside booth, Kisame and Kakuzu taking opposite seats to face the kitchen door and central entrance, respectively; Hidan sat facing the main cluster of windows, legs rudley sprawled while Itachi kept his focus on the slow stream of patrons and employees. In no short time, a small child floated over to their table, a pile of paper and leather menus wrapped in his trembling arms.
Kisame smirked, "Kiddo, you don't look so good, you got the shivers?"
"Uh," Shame, he looked maybe Genin-aged, "My, um, Ma said to be quick with you guys...because you may scare the customers."
"Oi, but we're your customers, right?" Hidan snapped.
The kid nodded, eyes ducked in shame at his blunder.
"Sorry...sir."
"You scared, hm?" Kisame's voice was surprisingly soft, "Heh, you should be. Leave those menus and go get us some ōlong--and tell your mother not to worry. We won't be staying very long."
The Genin nodded and made haste, returning within minutes with a hot ceramic pot and four modest tea cups. Nervously, he jotted down each Akatsuki's order, bidding a meek promise to have their meals ready shortly. Kakuzu took a long sip and shook his head.
"I'm amazed you even bother to talk to children."
The big blue man shrugged, cup pinched rather gracefully within his sharp fingers, "They're great assets for information. Besides, you and I are partnered up with individuals far less behaved that that youngster."
Hidan stopped mid-slurp, "Hm, me?"
"I can behave," Itachi didn't look up from the journal he had pulled from his cloak.
The group settled into their own habits, paying disinterested but diligent attention to the world around them: Hidan and Kisame played scratch art across the table, Itachi scribbled in his bird journaling log, and Kakuzu bemused himself with a worn copy of Frankenstein. When their food soon arrived, the men bid thanks to their tiny waiter, Kakuzu begrudgingly forking over a tip into the Genin's gracious hands.
"Don't ever ask your patrons for tips, got it?"
Once alone, the Akatsuki removed their Kanji rings and bid thanks for the meal in private, hands clasped to their respective deities and all murmering a word of gratitude towards their omnipotent employer: Itachi enjoyed some Daifuku while Hidan devoured a stack of Okonomiyaki; meanwhile, Kisame picked away at some Senbei as Kakuzu quietly savored some chestnut-filled Manju. When finished with his third cup of tea, Kisame stood.
"Gotta take a leak,"
"Hold on, I'm comin' with," Hidan rose and stretched, neck popping in pleasant tandem, "I'm tired of sitting on my ass."
Itachi and Kakuzu exchanged a glance but said nothing, Kisame mumbling something under his breath in annoyance; they doubled out back, Kisame impressed with how Hidan's eyes remained alert yet focused.
'You're not as dumb as you look, are you?'
"Hidan," Kisame was digging through his pockets for a a nail file, "What's new?"
The Jashinist looked perplexed, as if smalltalk had never been taught in his religious codes.
"Um, uh, fine? Maybe? Shit, if I know."
"Gah...you don't have a lot going on up there, do you?"
"Oi, are you calling me stupid?"
Kisame sighed, ducking under a wayward tree branch, "No, no, I didn't say that. A little slow, sure, but not completely hopeless. I've seen how you watch Kakuzu's back. I've never seen soemone so proficient in Bukijutsu."
"Yeah, what about it?" Hidan asked.
"Well, you two seem to hate each other's guts," Kisame shrugged, "At least, that's what you show others, but I've always been curious what it is that you two see in each other."
Hidan's face obscured under the shadows of a passing building.
"The guy's been through a lot, so have I," He reflected, "It just, fuck, makes sense. Whatever curse he's got, it'll end eventually...mine's forever. And--hey, now don't repeat what I'm about to fucking say--but he hates how he looks and I...enjoy it. Maybe, I dunno. It's too fucking complicated! But when he dies, I'll still be kicking rocks and taking shits, so..."
"Nah, I get it," Kisame nodded, "I do, really. It's like Itachi-san--we're all on borrowed time. When I was in Kiri, companionship was a liability."
"So was Yuga."
Kisame saw a crow flutter down, picking at worms in the crumbling dirt.
"So it is for everyone."
******
"So, what's it like?"
Kakuzu looked up from his book.
"Come again?"
Itachi was eyeing the dessert menu once more, eyes scanning with devsive intent.
"What is it like working with Hidan?"
Kakuzu snorted, "Literal Hell. Last week, when we captured the Two-Tails, he tried to bite the woman and she broke his neck so cleanly, I had to fish his head out of the river nearby. Why, would you like to trade and take him for a while? I could use a break from that dumbass."
"No, no, I am just always so...curious," Itachi assured, "You seemed to work so well together. My crows tell me that he steals hearts for you from the corpses of dead shinobi."
"We're partners, nothing more," But Kakuzu knew he wasn't too convincing, "When I die--and, with my damn luck, it will be eons--I will weep for the peace and quiet I am nowhere near worthy of. He's a jackass and a moron."
Itachi was impassive, "So you say, but I have observed further fraternization than that."
Kakuzu growled and snapped his reading glasses back into their protective pace.
"If you're insinuating that we fuck, then you are correct. What, isn't that what you wanted to hear?"
Itachi scowled and waved his hand, "No, no...it's just...peculiar. You are always together, I can understand how you'd get sick of each other--"
"Do you ever tire of Kisame?"
"...never."
"Then, there's your answer."
Itachi watched the way Kakuzu's face seemed to relax, cowl removed in a rare occurrence to reveal the cruel lashes and insidious stitching across his cheeks and eyelids. With a long look in his gaze, the older man took another slow sip of his tea.
"I spent decades in torture, from one physical pain and humiliation to the next--you understand this, I'm sure. I am not worthy of any sort of peace, but with Hidan...he's spontaneous. Volatile, but so am I. And when I die, it will be a shame to leave him behind."
Itachi nodded, but before he could say anything in return, he noticed Kisame returning, Hidan in tow. And Kakuzu, of course, had already returned to his book, the conversation evaporating in the quiet chatter of the shop.
"Jeez, you two look glum," The Jashinist sneered, plopping back into his seat, "Seriously, what'd we miss?"
"Nothing that concerns you, dumbass," Kakuzu snapped, "Beside, we should leave, I don't want that boy returning for another tip."
Hidan was aghast, "But we just got here!"
"So stingy," Kisame heckled.
When the crew had stuffed their pockets of spice packets and disposable utensils, they trudged back out into the daylight, quiet as they fell into line once more, cowls drawn and hats donned. But as Itachi ducked back into the folds of his sleeves, a heavy hand greeted his shoulder.
"Tell Hidan any of this and I'll kill you."
Itachi smirked, shrugging off Kakuzu's grip.
"You may try."
