The bar wasn't too full, something he was grateful of. These things tended to go better when there weren't a lot of people around. Another quick look around the room. A snort – silent, of course. The only occupants of the bar were all passed out drunk or close to it.
He took a seat in a booth, setting his case beside him, closest to the liquor stained wall. Or, what he hoped was liquor. He knew it wasn't, though. Why was it that he always ended in the dirtiest places?
He didn't want to think about it.
"You Kakuzu?" An unfamiliar voice rasped. The hooded man looked up to see a figure blocking what little light was in the bar. He nodded, keeping silent.
He ignored the way the man's eyes widened in fear.
The stranger sat on the opposite side, making sure not to touch the missing nin's legs with his own. Wouldn't want to give the wrong impression, would we? Kakuzu tried not to amuse himself with the thought too much – he had work to do.
"You can fix our…problem?" The man leaned in closer, giving the room a nervous glance. Kakuzu didn't so much as blink.
"If that's the way you want to put it," he answered, watching the man with careful eyes. "How much are you paying?"
(A/N: These are random – VERY random – little ficlets about Kakuzu. I just feel like typing, so here we go. :) We all know I own nothing, but I'll say it anyway: I own nothing that isn't mine.
Red