Authors Note: Inspired by Hidan's death (so inspirational, right?) and KakuxHidan yaoi! Yay for guy on guy! 8DDD Warning: an inexplicably large amount of profanity and spontaneously combusting F bombs. Also, one of his flashbacks includes a lemon.
This is Hidan's POV on when he 'died' … considering he is immortal, I'll add in what his feelings were and a few yaoi related flashbacks. Though, at the moment, I shall watch his death and the battle of it again to get a refresher on how he died while laughing sadistically. *Ventures into google to find out the episode of his death* … Short story short, I wasted 15 minutes reading up on him. I like knowing characters too much.
Warning: Due to lack of information on his family and before he achieved immortality, I'm adding some fictional ideas of my own. Note: When a Jashinist receives Jashin's blessing of immortality, he becomes an albino with white hair, and pink or red eyes. When I cover his earliest past, he of course wouldn't have immortality yet.
"That blood on your spike isn't mine; it's your partners."
It was that moment that I felt something – surprise? Or being downright pissed off, that a little twerp of a ninja could figure out a loophole to hurting my partner so easily.
What pissed me off even more was that I found myself – for a brief, fleeting moment – wondering if when Kakuzu got stabbed through my own ritual to my god, if Kakuzu would be finished off by that copy ninja who couldn't come up with his own jutsu. Sure, he came up with his own jutsu – a jutsu that sounded like birds. Birds, seriously? Come on, how much more of a *Bleep* could you be!
The answer was ridiculously obvious; of course Kakuzu would be safe. Though, I knew that I was in deep shit – my annoying neighbors did warn that karma would bite me in the ass… wasn't that one of the many reasons why I slowly killed his neighbors after my village became a stupid tourist site? The list went on and on… ah well – they bit the dust as well as half of the population of the old, whiny geezers on my block.
So why was he replaying that scene, over and over again, in my head? The silence underground was deafening – I was blown to bits, but my immortality remained intact, tormenting me with being forced to stay still for so long. I felt nothing for Kakuzu – he was another person who was, thank Jashin, irritable yet not trying to kill me every time I tried to get some rest. It may suck that he just had to make me feel idiotic almost all of the time, but for some reason… I found it worthwhile while it had lasted.
Laughing manically, I raised my weapon – a stick, if you'd call it. A really, really effing sharp stick. The way my arm moved while raising it, as if fighting off some unseen force, didn't even really bother me; the thought of killing that kid just beneath me set adrenaline coursing through my veins, made me feel…. Alive.
I reluctantly moved forward, one foot at a time, relishing in the knowledge that I could move – take that, you f*****! That little kid's chakra was fading, and I felt as if I had just chugged two cans of Monster energy drinks – I felt alive, the very thought of making that kid suffer making me want to laugh.
"Have you devoted your life to Jashin-sama, he might have saved you." I taunted, a broad, sadistic grin plastered across my face – after I finished here, I'd make sure that I destroyed those other weaklings that tried to attack Kakuzu. Especially the fatass.
But did Jashin-sama save me? I wanted to die right now. The silence was disturbing – it made me wish I could curse and swear, maybe teach the maggots that tried to eat at my immortal corpse a few new, colourful words. But noo, I just had to have my vocal cords blown to pieces!
Maybe this was a gift, a screwed up gift from my Jashin-sama. Maybe this was all for a reason – a pretty screwed up reason, or simply punishment for all those times I disobeyed Jashin and broke the rules.
If only I had just thought this through for once. I might be out there, I might be celebrating my freedom by killing.
"… He'd never forgive you, baaaka!" I spat the last word out like a five year old would, slashing the blood splattered blade down – I was going to enjoy this! Even after the twerp died, I'd enjoy ripping him to pieces, making his corpse as unrecognizable as I could…
Shit! I thought as I found I couldn't move; I felt as if I wanted to curse at him when he called Jashin-sama messed up. He didn't understand; why would he? He was just another petty heathen.
When I exploded from those stupid exploding tags, my thoughts wandered to Deidara – the most feminine male I've ever seen, aside from Itachi when I first saw him. When I first saw the Blondie, I thought he was a female – a very, very flat female.
The terrorist of Akatsuki was the one that was so fond of explosions, wasn't he? He called it 'art' – I was never fond of art, unless if it was a drawing dedicated to Jashin-sama. Even then I barely appreciated it. What was the point of art? To inspire, to make people… happy? Those two things made me want to gag.
What did he say? That art was fleeting, an evanescent display of beauty before it exploded into an even greater form of art? I never listened to him. I listened to no one.
When the ground began to break away beneath my feet, I knew that pretty soon, I'd be down there in that dark hole; blown to pieces, and alone. I didn't even mind solitude for the most part; people annoyed me, especially when they were heathen. Hearing them preach about their ways… it made me sick.
Karma finally bit me in the ass; I felt surprised, I felt a small sense of respect for the kid. I felt respect for him for the fact that he was the first among many to be so smart and figure out what seemed to be the obvious. Sure, I boasted about many, many things – but I never boasted about how to kill me.
I may be stupid, but I'm not that stupid.
Watching Shikamaru lift his lighter that was so reluctant to light earlier to the air, at that time I wanted to curse at him. What was he trying to pull? Seeing his mouth move, at this moment I wish I had bothered to learn how to read peoples' lips – earlier I saw no point in it. I didn't gather information. I killed – gathering information was Kakuzu's job.
It could have been a jutsu, or he was going crazy. Either way, I had the oddest scent of smoke in the air – cigarette smoke, the same type that bounty guy we killed had smoked. Was I the one going crazy? Or was that some pre-jutsu to further my torture and ultimate demise?
Screw the will of fire. Screw smart people. Screw spontaneous combustion – don't get too proud of me for knowing such a large word. Deidara, the stupid Blondie, taught me that word.
Boom.
The pain that followed, was so brief yet the best I've ever felt – I wanted to shout out in pain, the ecstasy of it making me wish I could experience it again and again while still having my body remain intact.
I wanted to believe that Kakuzu would save me; he wouldn't die so easily by some teenagers and a man well past his prime. Kakuzu was at least a hundred years old… nearly immortal – he just couldn't die. It was unnatural.
By what I thought to be the sixth day of rotting in that hole, it was obvious no one was coming for me.
I wanted to scream into the darkness, the darkness that seemed to weigh so much on my nonexistent shoulders. Though, if I screamed or cussed, I'd be letting stupid dirt and maggots into my mouth – something that I didn't want to risk. If they got into my skull, that would be even more disturbing; it wouldn't kill me, but it would be very, very uncomfortable.
SCREW YOU! I yelled in my mind, keeping my eyes shut tightly. I wouldn't let myself realize how much shit I really was in. Some, innocent, uncorrupted part of me wanted to fall asleep and run away from it all… but no. I wouldn't sleep; I wouldn't give into that wimpy side of me. I'd face this predicament, and dig my way out if I had to – like my threat, I'd find a way out of here even if I had to dig my way out of here with my teeth.
Eventually my demons caught up with me on the third month of mindless thinking in solitude.
Broad as daylight, scenes played in front of me – scenes I tried to forget, scenes that I never had wanted to remember again. Those scenes that had made me who I am, who I love – the Jashinist with a colourful language, the Jashinist who won't take shit from nobody and nothing; the Jashinist who was, and is, Hidan.
What was the point of just sitting here and doing nothing? What was the point of thinking, trying to remember things that do not matter? Unknown to me at the time, I was trying to keep my sanity together; remembering unnecessary, stupid remnants of the past that had no value was my own way of keeping my mind together in one piece.
But the silence… it was so deafening.
A warm substance dripped from my hand as I stood over my mother, a butcher knife in my hand. Smile spreading across my pale lips, I looked at her, my hair black at the time – I had not been graced with Jashin-sama's blessing yet, thus I had not gained immortality and the physical attributes from it. I looked like your average gothic misfit, not an albino with wine-red pink eyes. So many things were different at this time…
"Mother… you really shouldn't play like that." I spoke, my voice uneven and broken. Was this when I had snapped? When I found joy in the pain of others? At this moment, tears trailed down my pale cheeks from chocolate brown eyes; those eyes that seem to be from long, long ago.
"Hidan!" My sister cried as she walked into the room, surprisingly not crying. She looked confused – pissed off, even. She wasn't weak. She didn't take shit, and she was my role model at the time. Too bad she didn't live long.
"Mom tried to hurt me… she doesn't understand me…" I pouted, though the pout was distorted by the smile on my face.
"What have you turned into?" Yes, melodramatic. When she slapped my face, I barely registered the contact – my mind was fighting the demons that tried to take over, making an uncertain chuckle escape my lips. "Goddammit Hidan, answer me!"
"You're a nuisance." I turned to her. I thought she understood me; when she discovered I had been hurting myself for my newly found deity, Jashin-sama, she didn't turn her back on me like mother did. She was there for me; she cared for me… but why now? "I thought you were there for me! What, you going to try and hurt me like mother? You're just like her! You even look like her!"Each word was like a stab to her – a beautiful, pain filled stab that hurt her at heart.
While she had her mother's looks, I had my father's – whoever he was.
"She doesn't understand…"
"You don't either. Don't lie to me."
"I don't like that you're hurting yourself – you're taking this too far." Her eyes reluctantly examined the mess that was her mother, realizing the symbol drawn around her.
"You… sacrificed her?"
"It was necessary." I smiled, my thumb rubbing the hilt of the butcher knife in my hand. I raised it, taking this chance as she was distracted…
I squeezed my eyes even tighter. Why the hell would I care about something that happened so many years ago? I was a little blind child back then – Jashin acknowledged those sacrifices, anyway. To me, it was worth it – screw whoever looked down on what I did that night.
Blood was everywhere – I sat in a circle of blood, in the center of the upside down triangle as my sister laid on my lap, motionless and limp. Already colour had vanished from her ghostly pale skin, a sign from blood loss. Even I was feeling dizzy – she had got a deep, lucky slash at me across my back, in the shape of a crescent moon.
I didn't care. I was too busy trying to hold my emotions together while allowing myself to vent, though each sob came out as a strangled cry from some animal. I didn't care that the corpse of my sister was on my lap. I didn't care that I just made myself officially an orphan. I just didn't care – why should I? Like my Sensei tells me, I should own up to my responsibilities…
Still, I felt a feeling akin to what could be called 'guilt.' I killed my sister, I killed my mother, and I hunted down my father and killed him as well for leaving my family alone for so long. He ditched us. But why should I care?
My sacrifices didn't go unnoticed by Jashin-sama.
First, my hair had fallen out. Quickly after that, I noticed that I didn't die – I couldn't, and I never aged once I hit about 20. My pain turned into pleasure, at least some form of it; half of it hurt, and half of it was pure ecstasy. The second thing I noticed was my eye colour – fading from a chocolate brown to a red, and then to a vibrant pink like an albino.
I had gotten Jashin's blessing – in thanks, I killed my teammates on a mission. When I came back, I did what I was planning to do all along – kill my neighbors and leave this excuse of a village. It was exhilarating – I enjoyed every scream and beg that came from them, but I gave no mercy. That night, the memories of my sister and mother returned to me – memories that I had almost forgotten, but I had somehow kept them next to me all along. I laughed at those memories, spitting in their face – I didn't need to remember useless, idiotic things.
Those weren't my only demons.
Kakuzu's index finger down Hidan's spine gently in a tickling manner, making him bite his lower, pale lip and shiver at the feeling of contact. What the hell was he trying to pull?
"Aw, getting soft on me, Kakuzu?" Hidan taunted, though his voice came out as a squeak – he didn't like being this close to his partner, or a male at all. Kakuzu's warm breath ghosted over Hidan's neck, making him shiver again. I will not be the uke in this! Hidan remembered thinking, though quickly he silently chastised him for the thought. They were partners – besides, this was considered sin.
"Can you bother to be quiet for once?" Kakuzu spoke in annoyance, apparently finding what he was looking for; a scar running across Hidan's back in a crescent formation, one that Kakuzu had never noticed before. "Now you're trying to give yourself back problems? Try not to enforce the idea that you're an old man; your hair already makes people think that, dumbass."
"I'm not an old man!" Hidan had scoffed, trying to turn away from him. The scar was from his sister when she tried to fight him – a memory Hidan tried to block out, and tried to ignore. It was one memory that he tried to lock away in the depths of his mind, throw away the key, and forget. The crescent scar was his way of keeping that memory intact, for some reason that was unknown to Hidan.
"What was this from?"
"And you'd care?" Hidan glared.
"I don't."
"Your actions suggest otherwise, Sherlock."
"Screw you." Kakuzu moved away from Hidan, the moment gone and faded away.
"How hard?" This was meant as a way to make his comment backfire, but apparently Kakuzu took it much differently – or decided that he wasn't going to back down that easily.
Kakuzu pushed Hidan against the wall of the small room inside of the Akatsuki's main base, and not gently either – his forearm was across Hidan's neck, surprisingly gentle despite how rough Kakuzu usually was. Shivering Hidan noticed that Kakuzu had allowed one of his 'tentacles' to detach from him and trail across Hidan's neck, rewarding Kakuzu with a small, reluctant whimper.
"Dude, not literally!" Hidan was uncomfortable; his mind turned to Jashin-sama and the rules, knowing full well that man made pleasures such as intercourse was a huge no-no along with alcohol and drugs. He didn't want to do this – the small boy from so many years ago was beginning to creep out, making Hidan want to run and hide.
He wouldn't. He'd face Kakuzu – he'd tell him to screw off and go after Blondie.
"You're the one who said it, Sherlock." Kakuzu mocked teasingly, his hot breath ghosting over Hidan's pale, overly sensitive neck in a way that made Hidan scowl in disapproval at how intimate Kakuzu was being – Hidan was curious on what brought this on, but decided that it was best to simply not know. He would have gladly kicked Kakuzu where the sun doesn't shine, but Kakuzu's leg was pressed against Hidan's manhood, making the chance of his actions backfiring very likely.
"Kakuzu… fuck, stop it." Hidan complained when one of Kakuzu's tentacles began to remove his cloak. "I'm not screwing around with you!" His eyes widened – Kakuzu, the coldest person aside from Itachi he has ever met, kissed him on the lips. It was either to shut him up, or it was to further enjoy Hidan's colourful pleading.
"I'm going to enjoy this. I'm going to make you scream in pain and pleasure, Hidan – I'm going to make you beg." That was Kakuzu alright – the most dominant of the two. Only, Hidan has never been in this situation with him before. As far as he knew, Kakuzu detested him.
"Fuck off—mm!" Hidan gasped as he felt tentacles roughly dig into his skin, the pain for some reason different than self infliction. It made a small ache within Hidan awaken, his eyes widening – was he gay?
"You should really control your actions." Pushing Hidan onto the bed roughly Hidan landed on his stomach, Kakuzu giving him not enough time to react – he held his hands above his head with his hand, the other tearing his cloak off abruptly.
"Get off of me! You fucking tentacle rapist!"
"I'm not going to stop until you beg." Kakuzu whispered into his ear before biting down violently, tearing skin – the taste of Hidan's blood soon was on Kakuzu's tongue, causing a small bulge to appear against his Akatsuki cloak. His tentacles moved down his back, caressing Hidan's skin gently before digging in – causing another moan of pleasure mixed with pain to escape his lips.
The stabbing became whipping, something that appealed greatly to Kakuzu in a sadistic, kinky way; he loved every scream Hidan cried, every time he tried to cuss him out, though this was not from the depths of his hearts. Among many hearts Kakuzu may possess, none of them had any feelings for Hidan – Kakuzu merely wanted to show Hidan who was boss and it just so happened he was in the mood and far from any available victims… other than Hidan.
Hidan never begged once.
When that happened, it was as if I viewed it from third person – yes, he felt everything that Kakuzu did to him, but everything seemed… surreal. After that night, I got rid of that stupid crescent moon scar on my back; I didn't need a reminder of what I did, and I have no regrets.
That encounter was among many I tried to forget – the time I committed an ultimate sin with my partner, something that was one time and one time only until Kakuzu was in one of his… moods again. It helped that Hidan was immortal, or in that first encounter, he would have died from wounds and blood loss. Every teasing touch Kakuzu had, every disgustingly amazing tentacle that violated him – it made Hidan sick, yet wish that he could have that back.
The nightmares he got from that night never left my memory – it was something I tried to block out, yet it seemed impossible to ignore. It could have been from the guilt of disobeying Jashin-sama after I had given me immortality… or it could be his little way of punishing me. I would have shuddered if I could; I usually never cared for nightmares, and when I got them, they were no big deal. Usually they consisted of the rare times when people who struck a soft spot in me decide to pay me a visit while I'm dreaming, or in some other cases… my sister is involved.
When Hidan closed his eyes that night, he almost instantly slipped into unconsciousness; for a few moments he was peaceful, walking in an alien land that didn't strike him as odd at all at the time. Think of an opposite, mirror version of our world: what was water here was blood in Hidan's dream realm, what was supposed to be endless sky was a dark roof of black ground, yet somehow a light source was able to peak through the endless expanse of rocky ceiling.
His footsteps echoed with each step he took, in his hand he twirled his scythe – a little weapon that he was quite fond of, whether for relentlessly attacking an opponent or getting blood for a ritual to his Jashin-sama.
Jashin-sama…
"Hidan."
As Hidan turned around to see the source of the voice, his entire surroundings seemed to change; where he was previously on a landscape of flat, never-ending white coloured grass that stretched in all directions, now he found he couldn't move. Jagged rock pressed into his body, though the rock was much too pointed and cold to be something created by natural causes; around him was spikes, pressing into his skin and tearing away flesh with every struggle he made.
"Fuck!"
"Why." That one, simple word consisting of three letters echoed through Hidan's entire being; his violet eyes widened as he tried to escape from this torture device, though to no avail. Pain blossomed in his vision, for once in a very, very long time the pain being unbearable. No moan or cry of pleasure escaped his lips; instead a strangled cry of pain tore past his lips and out into his cage, every feeling of sharp metal spikes seeming so… real.
And then he was falling.
By now, it was apparent that Hidan should be waking up by now – he should have woken up a long time ago in the arms of Kakuzu, or pretty damn close to him. Instead he found himself at a freefall with oppressing blackness at all sides of him, giving no hint of which way was up, and which way was down. The only indication he had was gravity itself.
"What do you feel right now?"
There was that voice again. That voice that made Hidan remember that if anyone else had spoken to him so fearlessly, he would have laughed in their face. Only this time, he felt awed by it; that voice made his pulse speed up subtly, made him feel a sense of dark foreboding – the same sense he had felt when he made his first prayer to Jashin-sama.
"Nothing." His words came out much differently than Hidan had expected them to; with the same meaning, yet for some reason, they came out in a different language. A language Hidan has never heard before.
"Nothing at all, Hidan? No guilt, no remorse?"
"I don't know! It's so confusing to me!" Hidan was now defensive, though he was yelling more in confusion. The fact that he was still in free-fall wasn't even apparent to him at the moment. "Everything that pig did to me… I don't get it."
"What is there not to get?"
"Why I liked it, even though I was going against Jashin-sama!" Hidan exclaimed, at that moment landing – on a plain similar to the one he had first been on, now a faint evanescent in his sleep deprived mind. Only this time the plain was engulfed in black flame, barely noticeable if it wasn't for the white grass beneath Hidan's feet, quickly catching aflame. It was beautiful – captivating, even inspirational if Hidan was remotely artistic at all. To him, beauty was best attained when killing a person in the most intricate, complex and painful way possible.
"I didn't choose you for you to be confused after committing something I told you especially not to do." Hidan's eyes widened – he was powerless. There was no doubt to who he was speaking with in his subconscious. "I didn't choose you to lose control so easily."
"Give me another chance."
"I will, Hidan. Though you will not get out of here before undergoing punishment, I can assure you that."
This time, I didn't try to ignore or shun the flashback; I welcomed it, trying to allow it to force the need my nonexistent body is supposed to feel right now. Of course, it was all in my stupid mind – I felt as though I still possessed a body, yet it was blown to bits; my mind still hasn't gotten the idea that my head and my body are separated.
I welcomed every memory of torture of the worst kind possible, knowing full well that if I had endured that while being mortal, I would have died at least 20 times over and over again. I wouldn't shun out the memories of repaying my toll for sin; even if I got out of this hole, I would never, ever make the same mistake again.
Still, my rebellious thoughts turned back to Kakuzu eventually.
Maybe I really am going psycho for once. I thought gloomily, trying to block out the images of sexual abuse and hardcore teasing that almost drove me crazy at the time. Right now, I wanted to cuss Kakuzu out for not getting me out of here. The child within me wanted to cry and cuss, wanted to revive my sister and have her comfort me like she always has whenever I felt in a horrible, horrible mood…
What was her name?
After all of these years of blocking that night out, I forgot her name – something that almost made me laugh out loud, though I controlled it with a little difficulty. I'm rotting away in this small little hole, and it finally occurs to me that I forget my sister's name… how pathetic.
I didn't need Kakuzu. I didn't need her.
But why was I feeling so… empty? A void had appeared where my body was supposed to be, the same body that was destroyed and blown to pieces by numerous paper bombs, felt strangely empty. It was a different emptiness than from having a profound lack of torso, but I vaguely recognized it: it was the same emptiness I shunned that night when I killed everything I knew.
Hidan.
My eyes widen as I hear someone say my name, my mind pushing away whatever that was – I would not allow myself to succumb to going crazy! Going insane and relentless on people while fighting was one thing, but becoming mentally unstable, I didn't want to deal with. I liked knowing reality from my mind's various demons.
Why?
Despite my eyes being closed, hundreds of people had appeared in front of me – infants that stuck in my mind more than I wanted them to, old geezers, young adults – people that I found curiously recognizable. Each of them looked at me with hungry, hate filled eyes; where there was supposed to be smiles, were frowns of distaste or simple sadness. Violet eyes ghosting over people, I realized the source of who was speaking.
I knew why these people looked strangely familiar. I knew why I saw my sister, covered in blood, in the arms of her mother, looking at me with fearless yet hate-filled eyes. She looked as if she had just been betrayed in the most ultimate way, as if she was just told that what she held closest to her heart was all a lie.
Sticking my middle finger into the air, I told them to screw off – I didn't care about them. My eyes went from face to face, yet I found little room in my heart for regret and sorrow.
What goes around comes around.
All those murders I had committed, all of those sacrifices to Jashin-sama, had finally bit me in the ass – metaphorically speaking, of course. My sister was strong and independent – she could deal with being dead.
Yet as her eyes held mine, I felt a lump rise in my throat.
Why was I feeling these stupid emotions all of a sudden? I had ignored them for my entire, everlasting life; I locked those petty things away in a drawer and threw away the key. Only, it appears as though the lock had deteriorated: emotions that I don't care to remember swamped me at once. If I could breath, I would have taken in a shuddering gasp of air – I hated feeling so helpless. At this moment, I was a slave to my emotions; a red hot feeling bloomed over where my chest should be, the feeling growing into what I knew felt like being stabbed in the chest with a hole left behind. I felt as though I was breaking apart; desperately trying to keep my mind held together, I focused on the emotional pain – that pain acted as my temporary life preserver, that pain allowed me to ignore how hopeless I really was.
I never cried, but at this moment, I felt my eyes water; I couldn't, and wouldn't open my eyes. I wouldn't let myself realize just how much shit I was in, despite how I knew that there was dirt and rocks pressing against every inch of my skull. The bugs were durable – I ignored them after a while, though occasionally I would make noises to try and scare them off when they got brave and tried to go inside of me. If I had a corpse, I would have made sure to come back here and destroy as many bugs as I could in this hellhole.
"Aw, getting shy on me, Kakuzu?" I remembered myself speaking that day when Kakuzu and I had finished our three-day time of sealing the two tails jinchuriki.
He glared at me before continuing to walk forward, each step precise and silent.
"Hey, I'm talking to you." I spoke, catching up to him to walk next to him, breaking our previous formation.
"Come to grace me with your presence?" He replied with sarcasm, making me facepalm.
"Oi, you could at least pretend to enjoy my presence!"
"With you preaching and your constant whining, it's hard to pretend."
"I'm hurt…" I pouted playfully.
"Hmph."
After a moment of silence, I decided to speak again; "hey, Kakuzu?"
He ignored me.
"Could we take a break and get some dango?"
"No."
"Bah, we've been walking forever!"
"Stop complaining – we aren't stopping until sunrise tomorrow."
"You're heartless…" I sighed.
By the time I lost track of how long I was down here, I found that there was nothing I could hide from my mind any longer. Every moment that was within my capacity of remembering, I looked them over and analyzed what happened, and what I did wrong. Then I analyzed what I could have done better, and what I could have done to avoid situations like that.
Including what got me into here.
Numerous times I mapped out what happened during that battle – by now I had created at least six ways to avoid the same situation, and six additional outcomes of the situation. Fuck you, Shikamaru! I exclaimed within my mind, mentally flipping him off – if only I could get back to the surface, get a new body, and kick his ass. I would love that…
Judging from how Kakuzu hadn't come here yet, I'm assuming he's dead and sleeping with the fish, or downright selfish and being a jackass. Screw him if he can't be bothered to dig me out; screw them all, the damned heathens and jackasses who couldn't give a damn about me.
If only I had someone to keep me company down here.
When it comes to solitude, I hate it. I love being around people, I love killing them, but I hate being alone – heck, even talking to their corpses is better than this! My mind and its demons were the only thing with me; every time I saw a scene play out before me, I question my sanity. Am I going crazy?
I might as well play tic tac toe with my minds' eye… I sighed, feeling my mind grow tired – it was a full out weary type of exhaustion, one that I wasn't used to feeling. My very soul felt shaken, also a feeling that was new to me; in all of the months I had been rotting down in this hellhole, I have never grown tired of thinking. Maybe grew tired of remembering things that were best left forgotten, but never have I lost the will to think.
When my mind began to get hazy, I grew worried – what was happening to me? I couldn't think straight. Whereas I could earlier complete a battle strategy for the first time in a very long time, I found my mind jumping from thought to thought – I simply couldn't concentrate. It was like when on a mission I had to stay up for a week; by the seventh day, I had only felt as half as weary as this.
Why… I silently pouted, though I stopped myself – self pity wouldn't do me shit, now would it? Now that I couldn't think straight, I might as well try to get myself out of this hole… nobody would be coming to get me, would they? Why would they even want to?
Tentatively, I opened my mouth and began dragging myself up while digging using my teeth – I only hoped that I wasn't digging deeper.
At this point the one shot is based at the more recent manga.
By the time I felt as if my entire being was full of dirt, I was aware of noises above me – digging noises, which seemed to be getting more close as time passed. The abrupt change in silence made me wince and want to cuss; I wasn't accustomed to sounds at the moment after sitting in silence for so many months on end.
Metal contacted with my teeth eventually, though it took no notice of me – it was trying to dig my mouth out, though. "Fuck off!" I cursed at whoever was digging me out literally, though glad that the shovel took at least some dirt out of my mouth; it was disgusting.
"I feel loved."
The voice made my eyes widen; his deep, calm voice was so familiar it felt surreal. I thought he was dead; I thought he had bit the dust, leaving me behind to rot in some hole for eternity until Jashin-sama decided my immortality was overdue.
Which reminded me: why did I feel as though the weariness was slowly fading from me? Did Jashin-sama give up on me; did he let my immortality fade away from me?
"You should." I couldn't complain – noticing how deep the hole was at the moment, I realized that it would have taken me a week to dig out so far using my teeth. I had gotten a ridiculously pathetic distance now that I could see how far I got, but it was still embarrassing how little progress I made in what seemed to be such a long time.
"Where is your body?" Kakuzu asked as he took me out of the hole, jumping out of it and landing with grace that only a ninja could possess. Around the hole were various animals; each of them looked as if they had died fighting. Shit, Shikamaru was serious when he said this forest was special. Those animals look as though they could tear me apart despite being dead.
"Blown to pieces, thank you for your concern." Hidan mumbled with sarcasm, trying to spit the dirt out of his mouth. Was that a maggot crawling across his ear?
"You look like shit."
"Absolutely sexy, eh?"
"What a strange definition of sexy." Kakuzu noted, turning my head to look at him in the eye to observe the damage; that was when I had noticed how he looked. All of his scars and stitches were intact, but his eyes… appeared to be nearly black. All of it.
"What did I miss?" I asked, my tone surprisingly serious.
"The death and rebirth of Akatsuki." This confused me, though I decided to ignore it; instead I was more interested on how I was supposed to move. Though, that question was shortly answered when Kakuzu had finished cleaning as many bugs as he could off of me, and holding up a black bag big enough to fit my head inside.
"Fuck you!"
"Just get in the bag, Hidan."
"It's not like I have a choice, dipshit." My voice sounded different somehow; changed, if you'd call it that. It was as if I had been opened up to an entire world of torture, yet came out a changed man… though, my lack of tactful words seemed to stay intact.
"What did you go through?" Kakuzu asked, examining my expression.
"I had no idea how badly solitude could affect me." I replied, glad that he wasn't going to put me into the bag. I didn't know if I could handle being surrounded in blackness right now.
"I'm sorry I couldn't get here sooner."
I was surprised – Kakuzu, sorry? Hah! Sorry my ass! Kakuzu had no regrets – he did what he wanted, when he wanted, and didn't bother to look over his shoulder to the past. He was too selfish to be sorry – he's too selfish to care about how much my own mind could torture me.
Yet again, his face practically screamed truthful.
He scowled. "Get your ass in the bag and stop looking at me like that."
"I would get my ass in the bag if I had one."
"Hmph." With that, he put me into the bag; the fabric was, thank Jashin, thin enough for me to see the world as we ran out of the forest. Everything seemed changed for some reason; darker, almost. The light from the moon made me squint, even that dull light being too bright for me. Still, it was better than the ever-present darkness of that hole I had been rotting inside.
It was that night that I prayed to Jashin for the second time since I got into that hole – once I got a body that was hopefully immortal, I would show him my apology for ignoring him and doubting him. He deserved that much.
"Thank you, Jashin-sama…"
"No problem." Kakuzu mumbled, making me scowl.
"Hey, I wasn't talking to you."
"You know I have every right to dump you back in that hole, Hidan."
I sighed, for once my tone being strangely remorseful and very grateful – something that was very, very out of character for me. "Kuzu, I'm not ungrateful for what you did; I don't think I could have handled another month of that."
"It was that bad?"
"What do you think, dumbass? I was stuck in that hole and I had to think of all things!"
"I didn't think you had the capacity of that."
"You'd be surprised." I retorted content to remain in that stupid, black bag; once I got a body, I'd show payback to Shikamaru. I'd put those plans I created in my mind to action; I wouldn't let him destroy me so easily like last time.