Five Times

A Hidan/Temari Fanfiction.

Chapter One: First Meeting

Disclaimer: I *wish* I owned them, this crack would so be canon then :P

Thanks to Amanda for betaing this for me and for generally sharing my crazy love of this pairing.

The first time she meets him she is still a genin, travelling on her way to Konoha for her first Chuunin exam.

She's fifteen, self-assured and (in her own eyes) an adult.

Half-way to their destination they take rooms in a pleasent inn for the night (three rooms, Gaara has to have one to himself. It's pricy and no normal genin team would be put up in such style but they are the children of the Kazakage, after all.

When they settle in their room Kankuro falls asleep almost straight away, his mouth open, head lolling. His snoring is a dull buzz in the background while she restlessly paces, unable to sleep. Things crowd her mind, jostling for her attention, refusing to let her simply switch off and get some much needed rest. The air is hot and heavy (she thinks it's going to rain soon ), it's a far more oppressive damp heat than anything they get in Suna where she is used to cold nights and blazing high days. How Kankuro can sleep she doesn't know (she shoots the loudly slumbering boy a glare).

Giving up on the idea of sleep, she slids open the door that leads out into the inn's gardens and is immeadiately rewarded with a cooling breeze and the heady scent of perfumed flowers.

As she steps out into the night air, she's scornful of the idea of telling Baki-sensei or her brothers where she's going. It's not like she can't take care of herself (she rests a hand on the fan that juts from her back, smirking) should the need arise.

Making her way through the neatly maintained garden she rounds the corner that will take her out of the enclosure and down to the lake where she's sure the air will be cool enough to be bareable (how anyone can survive with this damp heat pressing down on them like a blanket all the time she doesn't know).

She collides with someone very solid, curses and jumps back, her hand automatically going to her fan.

'Hey! Watch where you're fucking going, you clumsy bastard!'

'You walked into me, asshole!' she snaps back, though truthfully she is unsure who is at fault. The speaker is still on the floor sprawled out and when he gets to his feet his movements are pretty heavy and jerky so she is suprised when the light glints of a hitae-ate around his neck. Normally shinobi (the ones that survive) are light of movement and have reflexes that are second to none. The fact he fell at all after such a mild collision confuses her. Perhaps he is only a recent genin, though through the darkness she can see a glint of grey or white hair. Maybe an old shinobi then, retired and out of practice.

'Who are you?' she demands, dropping her hand from her fan and straightening up. He didn't seem competent enough to pose a threat.

As he steps out into the light, she draws back slightly a little put off by the fact he's younger than she was expecting, only a few years older than her, if that. And (she reluctantly notices) very handsome.

'None of your fucking business, nosy fucker.'

Her blood blazes and her hand automatically reachs for her fan again. Insufferable bastard, she thinks glaring at him in a way that should surely cause any sane man to at least flinch. Instead he just grins at her, tilting his head back so that ridiculously attractive profile of his catches the lamplight.

'You gonna attack me? Because, seriously, I'm not in the fucking mood right now- it's too damn hot. Try me again later.'

Forcing her hand away from her fan, she folds her arms to show she's not up for a fight either. He's right, it is too hot and she's tired from the journey.

'Well you're right about that at least. Now if you'll excuse me I'm headed out to the lake.'

'Oh no you don't, find your own fucking spot, I'm going down to the lake.'

The rational part of her knows she can just go back to her room or point out the lake is big enough for both of them not to have to be anywhere near each other even if they're both going there. But something about this guy (either the fact he annoys her after barely a minute or that she finds him ridiculously attractive or probably both) is really getting under her skin.

'Like hell I will!' she takes a step towards him, her posture threatening, her hands tense and ready to spring to her fan again if it's a fight he wants.

She realises belatedly that stepping forward has put her in the lamplight for the first time since this conversation started and she vaguely wishes she wasn't so rumpled from her attempts at sleep.

He studies her for a moment, squinting with a look of something close to suprise on his face.

'Oh so you're a girl.'

Gaping at him, she seethes with a mixture of utter fury and embarrassment.

'Of course I'm a girl you moron!'

'Well you sounded pretty damn manly alright? How the fuck was I supposed to know?'

'I do not sound manly!' she hisses back at him, hating the way he's studying her like she's some kind of bizarre musuem exhibit, hating the fact he'd described her as manly (she knew she wasn't the most feminine of kunoichi but really this guy had to be blind not to notice she was a woman even in the half-light). He's biting his lip, staring at a point either above or on her head and not making eyecontact. She's wondering just what he's looking at when suddenly he bursts out with,

'Seriously bitch....what the fuck is up with your hair?'

He's stepped forward, seriously invading her personal space now and she realizes with a start that this is by far the closest she's ever been to a man she wasn't related to.

'Fucking ugly colour too, like wet sand.'

'Yes, well not all of us can have grey hair now can we?'

He smirks at the comment; his hand drifts up and touches one of her ponytails in almost an almost childishly curious way. She tries to reach up to smack his hand away, but finds her own has gone heavy and useless as if weighed down by his very proximity.

Oh heaven help me.... I don't want to be one of those girls who's so easily swayed by a pretty face....

Managing to get control of her arm finally, she brings it up suddenly and delivers an impressive backhand across the aforementioned pretty face. Or would have done if he hadn't managed to get his arm in the way at the last minute. Startled, she wonders if maybe she should reasess her judgement of him but then decides it was probably just dumb luck.

'Hey, what the fuck did you do that for?'

'Don't you know it's rude to touch other people without their permission?'

'For fucks sake bitch it was just your fucking stupid hair, stop acting like I felt you up or something!'

He holds up his hands then, stepping backwards away from her and she feels.....disappointment and relief all at once.

'You're a complete bitch you know that?' he throws the comment back over his shoulder as he turns and walks away from her to sit down on the little pier that juts out over the water.

'And you're an insufferable prick.'

She realises that even though he annoys her, she kinda likes that. Most people are so depressingly subservient to her due to her status within the village that it's nice to be challenged occasionally.

'Well then why don't you just fuck off.'

He doesn't say anything else, though; she must not have angered him that much, she decides. After a moment's contemplation, she follows him to the waters edge, sitting down next to him without waiting for an invitation. It is strangely reckless of her, she realises, to be acting so casual with a shinobi from a competing village (even if he seems to be utterly incompetant). But the air is cooler down here and she likes to watch the way the moonlight highlights the contours of his face and torso.

"Tch! Ever consider I might want to be a-fucking-lone? Inconsiderate kid."

'I'm not a kid, I'm nearly sixteen so you can quit calling me that.'

He laughs under his breath at that, making her feel bizarrely embarrassed. She realises she doesn't want him to see her as a child, and wonders if it's alright to ask how much older than her he is. It can't be much surely? He doesn't look a day over eighteen. His arm brushes hers lightly, and it's unsettling, somehow. Un-nerving. So she clears her throat, talking to cover up her awkwardness.

'I don't recognise the symbol on your hitae-ate, where are you from?'

He glances across as her, eyes flicking down to her own forehead protector.

'Yugakure, The Village Hidden in Hot Water.'

She can't help the snort of laughter she lets out then

'Sounds like a tourist destination, not a shinobi village.'

'You know what? Shut the fuck up, seriously. Fucking mouthy brat.'

Feeling smugly superior at Suna's obvious higher status....hidden in the hot water, honestly?.... she relaxes furthur, leans back on her elbows and tilting her head up to look at the stars. You can't see them as well here as you can in Suna, she's not sure why they just seem less clear.

'So what's it like?'

His look is quizzical and she wonders if he really is that idiotic. Lucky for him he's got looks to rely on, she thinks a little cruelly.

''Yugakure. Your village?'

'Oh right. Well it used to be fucking great town, I mean our hot springs are the best and they've got great restorative qualities. My favourite one gives you fucking amazing skin, seriously. You should try it sometime,' he glances sideways at her and she pretends to be absorbed in the night sky still. But his gaze is somehow magnetic and she finds herself turning back towards him almost against her will.

'Though actually you've got pretty nice skin. Better than your stupid hair anyway.'

He looks at her directly then, his lovely mouth curving into a smile and she can only hold the eye contact for a minute before turning away to the water, grateful for the cool breeze on her inexplicably warm cheeks.

'Maybe I'll come visit you sometime then.'

He seems flustered; his eyes widen and there's something akin to panic in them as he replies, hands clutching convulsively at the beads around his neck, "That wasn't a fucking invitation you dumb shit!"

"I know that, idiot." she says scornfully, a little surprised; she hadn't expected for him to take her seriously. "I'd just like to see it someday is all. I'd like to see all the shinobi villages."

He looks away, still flushed and muttering incoherently to himself, so she takes the opportunity to look him over once again. He's definitely the most handsome boy (man?) she's ever seen, with a face and physique that in a few years will probably become absolutely devastating. As it is she finds him utterly compelling in a slightly worrying way. It's not just because she seems to be noticing men more than ever now (something she's putting down to the recent influx of hormones and the rather late blossoming of her body) but that she thinks she'd find him fascinating anyway.

'Hey, Suna-brat, cat got your tongue? Why've you gone fucking mute on me?'

'I was thinking- you should try it sometime.'

He imitates her by leaning back on his elbows and tilting his head back so his hair shines with reflected moonlight (which makes her wonder if it's natural, because really who had silver hair when they were as young as he obviously was? And he seemed like the vain type so it was perfectly possibly he dyed it). Then he sighs and looks over at her again, something almost serious in his eyes now.

' I fucking hate my village.'

In truth she's a little startled because no one, absolutely no one, likes to admit anything that could be taken as disloyalty. In most shinobi villages disloyalty is an offence which can be punished by a court-martial and possible execution. A shinobi's loyality should never be in question, otherwise what use were they? If they weren't loyal to their village then there was precious little to stop them from selling their secrets to a the highest bidder.

'So what are you going to do?'

'I'm going to see justice is done,' he says, and his voice is still light, but there's an undercurrent of something darker, black and vicious. 'Jashin-sama tells me that they're not worthy. That they're useless money grabbing fat bastards, not even shinobi anymore. They've fucking sinned and been corrupted to the point where there is no redemption for them, none at all. One day soon I'm going to purify my village, one day soon I'm going to wreak Jashin-sama's vengance on them.'

Temari doesn't know precisely how to respond at first. She is slowly recognizing the fact that her companion is quite clearly mad, far beyond the everyday madness most shinobi cultivate to survive.

She wonders vaguely why it doesn't worry her. Perhaps knowing Gaara has made her immune to fearing psychopaths.

'They think I'm wrong, you know, in the fucking head. Because I like to kill, because I like to do my fucking job. Fucking useless bureacratic shits think I'm wrong.' he tells her, laughing loudly – the sound is run through with an edge of hysteria and insanity. His hands are clutching the beaded necklace so tightly she fully expects to see blood seeping through his fingers at any moment.

'I like to kill too,' she whispers, almost shocked to hear herself. Something about saying the words outloud makes her feel wonderfully, dangerously reckless and free. She doesn't know what it is about this strange boy that's inspired this sudden desire to confess her own sins but somehow she knows it's....right.' I love to see the pain in their eyes, I enjoy beating them. Breaking them.'

He's looking at her with renewed interest, a light in his eyes she hasn't seen before. But of course, it must be rare; what sort of shinobi admits so willingly to love blood and pain? They are supposed to be emotionless, caculating, clean and sharp as razors. Tools of their village, who kill when necessary but don't take an pleasure in it, simply see it as a job that has to be done.

Can anyone really be like that? she wonders. Or is it just that people like herself and this boy are more honest with themselves about their motives. That everyone else is simply lying to save face.

'Fucking hell....you're really something kid, you know that?' There is admiration in his voice and she resists the urge to preen like a student who's given a compliment by a teacher. He leans over and touches her hand a little - barely grazes her calloused skin with his own soft, slender fingers.

'Don't you ever think about it? Defecting, fucking the hell off away from the shinobi villages and their stupid fucking assholeish rules about what you can and can't do?'

'No, of course not.' she replies in a clipped tone, and can't quite look him in the eyes as she says it.

A maddening silence hangs in the air for a long moment before he begins, very delibrately, to laugh. And when she goes to hit him, he catches her wrist with ease and pulls her closer.

Then he kisses her forehead, chaste as anything and it annoys her, for some reason. Maybe because he's taking liberties she hasn't given him permission to, maybe because damnit if he's going to take liberties he could at least make it worth her while and kiss her mouth. He's grinning down at her, looking ridiculously pleased with himself for some reason.

'You sure about that?'

'Yes,' she says, weakly. She supposes she should be protesting more forcefully, but it's really kind of hard to concentrate when she can still feel the place he'd just kissed tingling (if only he'd kissed her lips.....) . He uses his fingertips to tilt her chin up so he can look her full in the eyes and she feels a bolt of...something...grip her core.

'You know what kid? That's a fucking shame.'

Then he drops his hand, gets to his feet and dusts off his trousers. It's beginning to rain lightly now, true to her earlier prediction and she figures he has the right idea. They should both go inside before it begins to rain in earnest. But still she doesn't seem to want to leave this spot.

He shrugs off his coat, dropping it onto her shoulders despite her protests, calling her an ungrateful bitch and telling her he doesn't feel the cold. Truth be told she suddenly feels ridiculously warm, but she suspects with annoyance that it has nothing to do with the weather.

'Name's Hidan by the way.'

'Temari.'

'Well then ki....Temari. Think it about it, seriously. You and me, we could travel the world converting heathens together.'

He touches the necklace (....rosary) around his neck then and she realises a mistake she made earlier. She had assumed that Jashin-sama was his sensei but it's quite clear now that is his god he's talking about. Fragments of knowledge swim to the forefront of her tired brain and she remembers a little about the Jashinist cult. They are violent in their methods, she knows that much. Encourage glorying in the kill, in making it a personal experience, of making it....emotional. Everything she's been taught, as a shinobi, not to do.

She reaches out without thinking, touching the cold beads of the rosary where they lay against his chest feeling them wet with the fine mist of rain.

'I will.'

Then he just stares at her, he's so still, and his eyes are so intense. It's unsettling.

For the hours she spends awake in her bed thinking about him that night, for the months that follow when he becomes a persistant memory, for the years afterwards when she remembers him ... that look will haunt her.