Chapter Text
Everyone knew an ornery and legendary rage churned beneath Kakuzu’s guarded facade. But years after Hidan was shoved into a partnership with Kakuzu, the short-tempered outbursts became less frequent, and the insults had less teeth. Sometimes Hidan forgot Kakuzu had gone through four partners just because “the idiot was in the way” or “the guy looked at me weird.”
Deidara speculated that the gradual change was from Kakuzu’s advanced age; the man had to be getting tired. Kisame said that the contemplative wisdom characteristic of someone Kakuzu’s age was finally maturing. Actually he said “blossoming” but that sounded a little creepy, like old-people puberty or something. Besides there was no chance Kakuzu would be spouting sage-like parables anytime soon. Sasori mumbled some shit about partner-induced, dose-dependent resistance to stress hormones, but the explanation went over Hidan’s head. And Itachi said Kakuzu’s mellowing-out was probably because Hidan was so helpful with bounty hunting, but he said it with a smug little grin and Hidan knew the conniving bitch was insinuating something else. Quite frankly, Hidan agreed. It had to be the sex.
So why then, two weeks before Hidan’s birthday, had Kakuzu reverted to his early-partnership levels of irritability?
It started after a straightforward assassination mission. Hidan returned to his body after his ritual, the assassination target a few paces away, lying dead on the floor after Hidan cursed him and deep throated a sacrificial pike. He’d selected this method of death because he thought Kakuzu would enjoy the show.
He didn’t seem to notice.
Kakuzu usually sat nearby and read a book while he waited for Hidan to finish his rituals. This time he was standing with his back to Hidan, engrossed in a decorative calendar scroll hanging on the wall of the feudal lord’s office. He cursed, tore a piece of the calendar off, and jotted something on the back.
“Stop wasting time. We need to get back,” he yelled.
Hidan pulled his pike out of his mouth and coughed up blood, almost drowned in it, but didn’t black out. Not his sexiest of moments.
“That was a little excessive,” was all Kakuzu had to say. Not, “Damn, Hidan, let me see you handle my cock the way you handle that weapon.”
For the entire trek back to the hideout, Kakuzu maintained a cold, five-pace distance ahead of Hidan. Whenever Hidan spoke, Kakuzu either ignored him or yelled at him for breaking his concentration. Usually after lucrative missions, he was a bit more conversational. Then, after they arrived at the empty hideout that afternoon, Kakuzu immediately retired to his room. Maybe Deidara was right. Kakuzu’s age was catching up with him and he needed to start taking naps. If Hidan had to start spoon feeding the old man and changing diapers, he might have to rethink this arrangement. But then his insides went all sad and mushy at the thought of Kakuzu abandoned and in need. Besides, Hidan would never forsake his second gift from Lord Jashin.
Perhaps this was nothing that sex couldn’t fix. They didn’t call Itachi a genius for nothing, right?
Hidan bathed, primped, and prepped, and then sauntered into Kakuzu’s room naked.
He leaned on the doorframe. “Hey.”
Seated at his desk, Kakuzu startled. He quickly shuffled the papers before him into a messy pile, and protected them with a clenched fist. “Knock, will you? It’s like you were raised by feral dogs.”
“That sounds fun. I thought we could take advantage of the hideout being empty?” Hidan sat on the edge of Kakuzu’s bed and spread his legs. “I’m all ready for you.”
“I have important things I need to do,” Kakuzu replied, voice tight. He waved vaguely at his notes and then hunched back over his desk.
“Guess I’ll have to entertain myself then, huh?”
Kakuzu peeked at Hidan over his shoulder. Hidan was sure the wavering look in his eyes meant he’d give in. Instead, he said, “I guess you will.” He then opened his bingo book and readied a brush, but didn’t start writing, like he was pretending to be busy.
“Fine.” Hidan stood and strolled up behind Kakuzu. “What’cha working on?” He trailed a hand up Kakuzu’s shoulder and under his hood.
Kakuzu slammed his bingo book shut and threw Hidan’s hand off. Ink spilled onto the desk and all over the papers. “Will you mind your own business? Now I have to recopy my notes. Get out!”
Kakuzu carried on in this manner of suspicious secrecy for days and into their next mission. With little time to eat or rest, their long slog through the woods devolved into bickering and bloodshed, which, by the way, definitely proved Hidan’s (and Itachi’s) theory about sex because Hidan hadn’t gotten laid in over a week and Kakuzu’s temper was getting worse.
They set up camp by firelight. When they finished, Kakuzu told Hidan to “go do something” because Kakuzu “needed to concentrate” even though it was too dark to do anything, save for a little homicide. But Kakuzu was so insistent that Hidan wandered off and found a nice town full of sacrifices for Lord Jashin.
The rest of the mission went much the same. Kakuzu would yell at Hidan to go to sleep while it was still light out, or ask him to leave when it was time to sleep, and didn’t he have some nice quiet meditation to do far, far away instead of, you know, existing in Kakuzu’s proximity? Hidan would storm off, but when he returned, Kakuzu would be in the same spot by the fire, engrossed in his bingo book or tallying some ledger on scrap paper and griping that Hidan came back too soon and needed a hobby. Besides religion. And pestering Kakuzu.
Finally, Hidan figured it out.
This happened last year, too. Kakuzu got a little cranky a couple days before Hidan’s birthday, but after he took Hidan out to a negligibly nicer than usual barbeque restaurant, he went back to normal—or relative normalcy, whatever that meant for an S-rank missing-nin made entirely of morbid chakra tentacles. It was clearly an issue with money and spending it on a birthday meal or, Jashin forbid, a gift for Hidan. And for putting up with all of Kakuzu’s crap, Hidan deserved a gift, not that he needed anything. Not technically. He had his religion; he had his Divine Purpose; he had Kakuzu, maybe not at the moment, but most of the time. He had no need for worldly possessions (even though a new shiny weapon might be really fucking thoughtful and greatly appreciated…just saying).
They were on their way to a port village in the Land of Fire to track down a bounty hiding out in the region. Hidan’s birthday was tomorrow and Kakuzu’s assholery was relentless. Kakuzu rushed Hidan every step of the way and even yelled at him when he took more than three seconds to piss behind a tree. And sex? Apparently not an option, seeing as Kakuzu’s note-taking occupied all his downtime.
Enough was enough. About an hour away from their destination, Hidan stopped in his tracks. “Hey, Kakuzu?”
“What?” Kakuzu growled, aborting his feverish scribbling in his bingo book. He tucked it back into his cloak before turning around.
“Look, you’ve been shitty for two weeks. If it’s got anything to do with my birthday, don’t bother, okay? Jashin has basically gifted me unlimited birthdays; it’s not a big deal. My religion celebrates death, not birth. Although… I suppose death isn’t possible without birth, so maybe it’s not blasphemous to celebrate birth since it’s restarting the cycle of death, even if I’m immortal, but really mortals are dying every moment since birth so, I guess it’s like a slow, drawn out death which I never really thought about—”
“I’m not in a bad mood.”
“You sure about that?”
“If you keep prattling on about it, then I will be!” Then quietly to himself: “Prattling… That’s a good word.”
Kakuzu made a quick note in his book and then resumed walking, shoulders up to his ears.
Hidan kicked at the dirt. In his early Akatsuki days, this partnership felt like punishment; Hidan was doomed to walk alongside someone that hated him and his religion for all eternity and he’d wondered what he’d done to deserve such an arrangement. He’d worried that he hadn’t fully understood the Teachings of Suffering and was being tested with a different form of suffering. But as Kakuzu thawed, Hidan deciphered Jashin’s true gift. Kakuzu was Hidan’s immortal protector, sent to watch over him, to aid in his endless mission to serve Lord Jashin. Kakuzu could also be a test of Hidan’s devotion: could he stay on Jashin’s Path while a very strong and sexy heathen mocked and questioned everything about The Way? Maybe Kakuzu could be both a gift and a test, like the whole birth and death thing. Birth wasn’t bad; it gave rise to life, an experience that tested one’s mettle, an experience that made death that much more sacred. Perhaps Kakuzu’s presence in Hidan’s life was a test, but it made him that much more of a gift.
Hidan gasped. “Thank you, Jashin, for showing me,” he whispered. Although Hidan wanted to take a little credit for that profound insight. Then to Kakuzu: “Whatever’s making you grumpy, either tell me so I can help, or stop being a fucking dick about it.”
Kakuzu stopped in his path and turned again, glaring at Hidan. The red in his eyes swelled, and a tendril rippled beneath the skin of his fist. “Stop talking nonsense.” His voice sounded like he was gritting his teeth.
“I’m just saying if this has anything to do with my birthday, stop worrying about it. It’s not worth you being a jerk for two weeks. Just fuck me extra nice tomorrow, ‘kay?”
Kakuzu’s eyes flicked to Hidan’s mouth and back up to his eyes. The intensity of his red sclerae seemed to settle a bit. “We’ll see.” He turned and resumed his stroll toward their destination.
Hidan laughed and then jogged up beside Kakuzu. He bumped Kakuzu’s arm with his shoulder. “I don’t know why you gotta pretend. Fucking’s free; we can even do it out in a field so you don’t have to shell out for a room. It’s also a perfectly acceptable celebration of my incomparable companionship, you know, since we’re not gonna acknowledge my birthday .”
“I'm not giving you ammunition for future complaints. We’ll figure out dinner or something depending on where we get with tracking this bounty,” Kakuzu grumbled. “The mission comes first.”
Okay, so progress? Kakuzu hadn’t completely shut down the prospect of some decent sake and sex.
“But I wouldn’t describe your companionship as incomparable,” he added.
“Don’t give me that, old man. There’s no one quite like me.” Hidan beamed and leaned into Kakuzu which was his partner’s cue to wrap his big arm around Hidan’s shoulders, maybe push him against a tree and shove his thick thigh between Hidan’s legs.
Kakuzu’s gaze slid over to Hidan. “No, I suppose not. But ‘incomparable’ isn’t always a good thing.”
“But sometimes it is.”
Kakuzu shook his head, but there was definitely a deepening of his crow’s feet, a hint of a smirk beneath his mask. “Sometimes it is.”
“Ooh, speaking of free gifts for the best partner ever. You know what else doesn’t cost money?”
“Violence.”
“I was thinking more along the lines of other sexual favors. A striptease might be nice? For my birthday?” Hidan waggled his eyebrows.
Kakuzu didn’t look over. “Never going to happen.”
“Just think about it.”
“I’d rather not.”
“Pretty please? Just once?” Hidan laced an arm around Kakuzu’s and groped his biceps. “It would be sooooo damn hot.”
Kakuzu didn’t respond, which meant the conversation was over, but at least he didn’t shrug off Hidan’s grip, and the mood lightened
It didn’t last.
They arrived at the heart of the village on the coast. Merchants bustled every which way, setting up stalls for a festival. It was noisy, crowded and, based on the couple of restaurants they passed, overpriced. Kakuzu’s least favorite things. They passed a barbeque place, and all Hidan did was inhale to ask if they could eat there for his birthday, and didn't even get a word out before Kakuzu said, “No.”
The way things were looking, Hidan would be lucky to get a half-assed hand job. And what a pitiful picture it would be. Kakuzu would be scribbling numbers in his ledger with one hand and working Hidan with his other, yelling at him to hurry up and cum already because he had things to do.
All the inns near the water were booked so of course they wound up at some out of the way, hole in the wall for the night. Kakuzu booked one night and reserved a second just in case, crushing any hope of staying at a nicer place for the birthday that neither of them were going to acknowledge nor care about. (Hidan cared about it.)
Hidan dumped his belongings beside the door and settled into a corner of the rented room to pray. Kakuzu dragged the table over to the window and from his bingo book pulled out a sheet of paper. He smoothed it onto the wooden surface.
Over the hour, Hidan probably got five minutes of actual prayer in. The metal tip of Kakuzu’s fountain pen scratched through the silence and penetrated Hidan’s every thought. He watched Kakuzu making notes, crossing things out, swearing under his breath, but mostly staring out the window, drumming his fingers on the table. Perhaps he’d made an accounting error. Kakuzu always got way angrier when he was to blame for a mistake. He hadn’t disclosed many details about his childhood, but he had straight-S, overachieving student written all over him. He would accept nothing but perfection from himself and unfortunately, he imposed his unattainable standards on everyone else.
Kakuzu suddenly slammed his pen down on the table and held his head in his hands.
“What the fuck is wrong?” Hidan blurted before questioning if speaking out loud would exacerbate Kakuzu’s shitty mood. Although, everything exacerbated Kakuzu’s shitty moods as of late, so whatever.
“Nothing is wrong! I’m trying to make some notes on something.” He shoved the page into his bingo book.
“Notes? That’s it? That’s what’s making you act like such a prick?”
“Don’t pretend you understand the intricacies of my job and everything I do. We should mobilize and get into town. We might be able to locate our target around the festival market tonight.”
“I didn’t finish praying.”
“You had an hour, Hidan!”
“Yeah, but I couldn’t focus with all the noise you were making with your notes .”
“Get up, we’re leaving. I’ve wasted enough time with this…task. We have a bounty to track down.”
“This better be so you’ve got money to take me to dinner tomorrow.”
“It is not, Hidan. I know it’s hard for your densely narcissistic brain to process, but not everything revolves around you.”
Okay, there was a chance this would turn into rough sex. It was worth a shot. “Oh, that’s right. Because everything revolves around you and your heathen-ass money.” Hidan strode over to Kakuzu and shoved him against the wall beside the window, knocking the table aside. The book fell to the floor and Hidan so desperately wanted to snatch it up, run out the door, and read whatever Kakuzu had been writing, but he stuck with his plan: 1. Push Kakuzu. 2. Insult Kakuzu. 3. Have sex with Kakuzu. 4. Kakuzu gets over his issues and buys Hidan dinner or a new weapon (or both!) for his birthday. Or something like that. “Jashin-forbid you thank your partner for letting you cum inside him whenever you can get your ancient cock up every few months…”
Kakuzu’s hand gripped Hidan’s throat. This was promising and Hidan was already getting hard.
He carried on, although spewing intelligible insults was increasingly challenging. “What a fucking steal I am. People would pay to fuck me and here you are with exclusive use of my body, got me begging for your cock all the time, and all I’m asking for is a half-way decent dinner for my birthday. You take me for granted, you thankless—”
Things went dark. Then pain rose up and devoured the back of his skull. He fought for air and the insuppressible survival instinct to panic was more overwhelming than the exquisite pressure around his throat. The welcome taste of blood filled his mouth and a slick heat slid down the back of his neck. Hidan finally cracked one eye open, then the other.
Kakuzu loomed over him, eyes shimmering with fury. “I don’t have time for your self-pity. If we didn’t have a bounty to locate, I’d let you bleed out so that I can get a few moments of peace.” He backed off, and the air rushed into Hidan’s lungs, ragged and wet.
Hidan rolled to his side and coughed. Blood still gushed from somewhere at the back of his head.
“You have five minutes to clean up and meet me outside,” Kakuzu said. “If we get charged for staining the tatami, it’s coming out of your cut.”
“Just don’t buy me dinner and we’ll call it even.”
“Five minutes.”
“Or what? You’re gonna make my birthday hell? Too late, asshole.”
Kakuzu stalked out of the room.
So…that plan sucked.
#
They squeezed their way through the slow-moving crowd that evening. Lanterns glowed overhead and the scent of grilled meat and fish intermingled with the salty air. The ocean waves were barely audible over the festival commotion. They’d opted to wear the inn’s haori and yukata; sometimes the Akatsuki cloaks were too recognizable and scared away those who’d heard rumors of their ruthless powers, especially in crowded villages like this. Despite the added haori, Hidan shivered. His hair was still wet from washing out the blood. He’d bundled his hair into the tiniest bun, hiding the minor skull fracture while it healed.
A flash of dark sideburns at a pottery stall caught Hidan’s attention. Balding head, fair skin, punchable face. The guy seemed to fit the description based on what little information Kakuzu shared; he refused to permit Hidan so much as a glance at the suddenly super secret bingo book.
“Hey, Kakuzu. That him?” Hidan regretted leaving his scythe behind at Kakuzu’s insistence for cautious information-gathering. He did have his sacrificial pike stowed in his layers, however; he always had to be ready to serve Lord Jashin. But with his scythe and some luck in the aim department, he could just take the guy out from here and be done with it.
Kakuzu followed Hidan’s line of sight and consulted the bingo book hidden in the folds of his layers. He grunted an affirmative and made a sharp turn toward the man, plowing a path through the market-goers and disturbing the flow of foot traffic. A few civilian protests followed in his wake. Normally Hidan would’ve gotten a little praise, a “good job” or, with better moods, a “good boy” along with a recitation of the bounty’s worth in the bingo book. But nothing today.
They trailed behind the man as he stopped at other stalls. Eventually, he turned down a narrow street that clearly served as the entertainment district. He ducked into one of the buildings. Kakuzu stalked down the dark street, threads emerging from his forearms and swaying in the dark. He abruptly spun around and Hidan bumped into him. He grabbed Hidan’s shoulder and pulled him in close.
“Pretend we’re talking,” Kakuzu murmured into Hidan’s hair, giving no indication that he’d lost his composure in their room an hour earlier. Hidan melted into the performative embrace.
A crowd of visiting shinobi stumbled out of one establishment and into another. Then the bounty strolled past them with a young girl on his arm. Once the bounty was around the corner, Kakuzu released Hidan and continued his pursuit.
Hidan followed. When he rounded the corner, Kakuzu grabbed his arm again. “Turns out we’re getting dinner after all. Don’t make a big deal of it. And try to act normal.” He yanked Hidan into a robata-ya attached to one of the fancier-looking hotels on the water.
The hostess looked them up and down. They weren’t dressed for the place, but all of that shit was fake anyway, just a bunch of misguided souls worshiping money and status. Luckily many of the locals and tourists wore casual attire as they strolled the market, so Kakuzu and Hidan weren’t that underdressed this particular evening.
“I’m sorry, all premium grill-side seats are reserved,” the hostess said, “but we have one table left if you’re interested in standard table-service.”
Kakuzu tugged at his sleeves; they were barely long enough to cover his tattoos. “That’s acceptable,” he said.
They followed the hostess past the large grill surrounded by fresh seafood and vegetables. No meat, as far as Hidan could tell. The chef extended an oar over the grill, passing a patron some grilled octopus. Beside the patron, their target was already nuzzling the girl he’d picked up. Hidan and Kakuzu were deposited at a small table beside a hallway leading toward the washroom.
Hidan turned and craned his head, but he could barely see the grill, which was sort of the whole point of places like this. “This table sucks.”
Kakuzu remained standing; he scanned the space, probably locating other exits, backrooms, stuff like that. He took a seat across from Hidan, adjusting his position to keep the target in view. “We’re not here for pleasure.”
Hidan slipped his foot out of the inn-issued geta and ran his toes along Kakuzu’s ankle. “No?”
Kakuzu narrowed his eyes at Hidan. “No. Food’s overpriced anyway.” He tossed the menu at Hidan. “Pick a couple items, but don’t get carried away. We’ll grab something to eat if the food stalls are still open later.”
Fine. This wasn’t the dinner date Hidan had envisioned, but he’d take it.
He glanced over the menu. “The hell does ‘market price’ mean?”
“It means they’re going to gouge us,” Kakuzu said.
“Why are we even here? Let’s just wait outside for this guy to finish eating,” Hidan said. Plus there was meat outside at the market.
“With the restaurant attached to the hotel and all the potential private rooms, it’s too easy to lose him.”
“ Can we at least get some sake?”
“A small house sake, but that’s it. If we can grab this bounty tonight, I need you to stay sharp.”
“I knew I should’ve brought my scythe.”
“They never would’ve let us walk in here with that monstrosity. You should have taken up Sasori on his scroll storage idea. That weapon is so damn heavy, you’d be even more effective without it.”
Kakuzu’s words were like slipping into a hot spring; they warmed his Hidan’s body and made his head go fuzzy. He trailed his toe further up Kakuzu’s leg. “‘Even more effective?’ Was that a compliment?”
Kakuzu didn’t respond, but he didn’t pull his leg away either.
After Kakuzu ordered two prawns, the leanest tuna ever, the smallest bowl of rice, and the cheapest sake (for which the server gave them a withering look), he pulled out his bingo book and set it face down on the table as if this permitted him to get comfortable for the next hour of target-watching.
Wedged into the book, a folded piece of torn paper and a pen stared back at Hidan. Kakuzu usually carried some sort of writing utensil to make notes in his bingo book, but the torn paper was definitely out of place.
The food arrived fresh off the grill even though Hidan didn’t get to watch it being cooked. Occasionally Hidan stole looks over his shoulder at the target and his escort, at their reddening cheeks and lingering touches. His comment from earlier flooded into his mind. The one about how people might pay for his company. It would be fun to pretend Kakuzu was having an extramarital affair with him, sneaking him to small tables in dark corners such as this. Or what if Kakuzu took him to fancy restaurants to be seen together? Not that Hidan was dressed for the part. Not that he cared. And the actual thought of his body being sold for money was sacrilegious, since it was his most prized asset in praising Jashin. But another part of him quavered, fantasizing about Kakuzu parting with money just for the pleasure of being with him. These were blasphemous thoughts, but one thing all religions had in common was this: all humans were flawed and committed sins, even the most devout.
Kakuzu didn’t try any of the food, nor the sake. The patrons at the establishment couldn’t handle Kakuzu’s appearance if he pulled his mask down, wouldn’t stand for his tattoos if he raised his hand to his mouth. It was a curious power dynamic. Kakuzu had power in any fight, but had very little within the confines of places like this. It stifled him, and Hidan sort of wanted to curse whoever managed the establishment and make them understand Kakuzu’s suffering.
Toward the end of Hidan’s miniscule meal, Kakuzu slid his bingo book very close to himself. He opened it and made a few notes, on the loose sheet of paper. He furiously scratched it out, groaned, and then slammed the book shut. He tapped the pen on the table and then dropped it, snapping to attention in an instant.
Hidan turned. Their target was rising from the grill. He passed their table and walked toward the washroom.
“I’m detecting a water change in nature from him,” Kakuzu said. “Might be a worthwhile replacement.”
Hidan chewed his extra-lean, extra-bland tuna. “Huh?”
Kakuzu rolled his eyes and then stood. “Of course you didn't notice. I’m going to follow him. I’ll be back.” And Kakuzu was off, disappearing down the hallway, behind their target.
Hidan’s eyes locked onto the bingo book, still chewing his food. He washed it down with the remaining sake and gave in to his curiosity. He checked over his shoulder. Quietly, although no one was around to care what he was doing, he held his breath and slid the loose sheet of torn paper out of the bingo book.
He unfolded the paper, exposing Kakuzu’s neat characters. There were two pages. It appeared to be a list of… books? Titles of essays? This was what was ruining his birthday? (Again, not that he cared but…) Some entries were so violently scratched out that grooves were carved into the paper and rough to the touch. Hidan flipped to the second page, continuing to scan the list. There was a pattern to each title, and they seemed to be a compilation of romance novels, which was odd. Hidan’s eyes landed on the last entry, possibly the one Kakuzu had just written and crossed out moments ago.
The skull fracture was unintentional, but you mostly deserved it: a love story.
That was… specific. Hidan began reading from the top of the first page.
Believe it or not, all my other partners were dumber than you: a love story.
Just because you’re beautiful doesn’t mean your voice is: a love story.
It’s not that I’m trying to fix you, it’s that your appendages are constantly coming off: a love story.
At first I thought you were going to ruin my life, but I’ve witnessed you ruining others’ lives in infinitely worse ways, so I might be amenable to our potentially eternal arrangement: a love story.
I watched a vulture steal a dead rodent from a wolf and it made me think of you: a love story.
Sorry I gagged you with my cock so hard that you passed out and I had to stitch up your ruptured esophagus: a love story.
You make me forget that I’m the literal monster in this partnership: a love story.
Hiding my books down your pants is not the best way to get me to grab your dick. Also I’m tired of finding your pubic hair stuck in the pages of my books: a love story.
I couldn’t stop thinking about fucking your face before I reattached your head, but I kept my composure and waited until your head was attached to your body, but you were still mostly unconscious. I should probably feel bad about it : a love story.
Sorry I pressed too hard to staunch your bleeding and wound up puncturing your lungs. I don’t know what I was thinking since you can heal yourself. Maybe I was being overprotective: a love story.
Stop making me worry about you: a love story.
When I call you an idiot, I mean it in a fond or endearing manner fifteen percent of the time. The other eighty-five percent of the time, you’re an idiot: a love story.
I don’t want your heart to add to my collection. I want your heart so I might feel its weight in my hands because sometimes I find myself wondering if you actually exist and if being with you is both a nightmare and a dream: a love story.
When I punch you in the face it’s not because I’m angry with you. Most of the time I’m just tired of hearing you talk and when I think about dealing with your blabbering prattling for an eternity, I get overwhelmed: a love story.
I think I love you and it terrifies me: a love story.
Immortality does not shelter us from loss: a love story.
I want to burn the whole world down with you: a love story.
I want to burn the whole world down with you: a love story.
The skull fracture was unintentional, but you mostly deserved it: a love story.
Hidan’s throat was tight, lungs unable to fill with air. The restaurant’s sounds faded. There was nothing. Only Hidan, this paper, and Kakuzu’s rawest of thoughts laid bare.
This wasn’t something Kakuzu did. These weren’t the types of feelings Kakuzu had. Kakuzu battled and demolished with disregard. He was a curmudgeon that tallied numbers and balanced budgets. Yes, Kakuzu had a weakness for his dusty novels, but that was just the boring, book-smart side of him. But this? Writing these ideas, these titles—for lack of a better description—about Hidan? Were they for Hidan?
It was almost painful, each sharp character piering deeper than the last, down to viscera, to marrow, to soul. This wasn’t something Hidan could laugh off or pretend didn’t exist. He was physically holding Kakuzu’s words in his trembling hands.
A dangerous echo of a sound tugged at his shinobi instincts. Footsteps approached.
Urgency opened his airways. He sucked in a breath and shoved the paper into his yukata, surprised he could still move. His fingers fumbled with the delicate paper, crushing it against his flushed chest. His sweat probably smeared the ink, and Kakuzu would definitely notice, maybe kill him for real this time. But not actually. Because immortality.
Immortality does not shelter us from loss: a love story.
Fuck.
The footsteps paused. The server grabbed the empty plates and departed. But then a shadow passed over the table.
Kakuzu’s low voice: “What the hell are you gawking at?”
Hidan shut his mouth so quickly he cracked a molar. He winced and jerked his head up. “N-nothing.”
Kakuzu sat down and folded his arms, regarding Hidan with a skeptical eyebrow. Hidan’s posture had never been better and he was probably showing too many teeth with his forced smile.
“It appears we’ll be staying longer,” Kakuzu reported. “There’s a private after hours bar in the back and our target just bribed himself and his friend a spot.”
“So… do I get to eat more?”
“You just ate,” Kakuzu said.
Was this really the guy that wrote all the words crushed against Hidan’s pounding heart? The heart that Kakuzu wanted to hold just for a reality check?
“Barely,” Hidan said. “This exclusive bar doesn’t happen to have cheaper food, does it? Meat perhaps? Can we even get in?”
“I think that all depends on how you’re dressed.”
Hidan glanced down at the inn’s clothing; they weren’t tattered, but they were obviously well-worn. “This seems like an overly complicated way of telling me I’m going to starve tonight.”
“I have a plan. And I think it’ll work if you behave yourself and look the part. I saw a kimono rental shop a few buildings down. Keep an eye on the target until I get back.”