The light reflected in the puddles, creating another world, upside down beneath his feet. He stared at it for a second, losing himself to his thoughts as he gazed into the murky depths, his long blonde hair whipped up in the faint night breeze and wafted with it the smells of the city. He always thought the air smelled different at night, as if the stars themselves added their own spectral scent to the world, but no one else even cared. Pretty soon his nose would be filled with exhaust fumes and thick smoke again. He took one last breath, then turned and headed inside. Him and his best friend had a lot to prepare for. Tonight was a race night.
The time by his watch was 10:15, in the distance engines roared and women cheered in excitement. Lights bore down from makeshift posts and split the petrol-covered tarmac into a myriad of different colours. The crowd jumped to the beats pumping from expensive sports cars dotted amongst the crowd, and men lazed on their bonnets proud to show off their latest win. Pretty women stalked about in barely-there skirts, or hung on the arms of men in expensive designer gear. Deidara raised his head and looked out at the crowd, from his position on the wall he could see Sasori's car, and the familiar red head sitting in the driver's seat with the door open. The car was beautiful, a true work of art, so much so that Sasori would not let Deidara drive it for fear he may crash it on purpose. That split second before the crash when the framework of the chasse would be whole for the last time in its life – that was art, thought the blonde.
Sasori worked long and hard on that car, every beautiful red fleck of paint, and every tiny detail of the engine. He owned a garage and was renowned as the best mechanic the city had ever known. Brilliant white underglow reflected off the wet road, the neon beams pulsed to the music blaring out of the back –attracting yet more people. Deidara was glad for his Danna, but wished those people would give him some space. Still, no rest for the wicked. He nodded to himself, got up and pushed into the crowd. It was time to work.
As soon as the harsh lights touched his face, the cameras were on him again. He was THE face of street racing in Konoha City - everybody knew him, every woman wanted him. More than ever, Deidara was the key to fame, and he didn't even race.
"Dei-chan! Over here!" a familiar voice called out to him and he greeted his danna warmly with a peck on the cheek.
"Nice night un!" he commented, and leaned seductively on his door, Sasori smiled back slyly
"Get to work, blondie! Up on the bonnet now!" he laughed and gave Deidara a push. The two worked in complete unison, Deidara helped out in the garage for cash during the day, and Sasori let him use his cars. Not for driving of course...
He always started off the nights with his favourite car – the old yet sleek Dodge Charger belonging to Sasori. Its curves seemed to match his own as he posed dramatically on the hood while photographers went wild around him. One shake of that blonde head and a car could be sold for thousands, or taken to the nearest dumpyard. Deidara loved his life, and, after a few flashy shots went in search of that little green Mazda that had so caught his beady eye last time...
Kisame grinned from inside his electric blue car. The windows were tinted the colour of the deepest oceans and not a ray of light peeked through. It was a second hand Honda NSX which cost more to modify than it did to buy. The three girls in the back obviously appreciated its expensive vinyl's, white leather seats and tinted lights. Kisame turned and winked at them in turn, and they smiled coyly back. He was a playa and he knew it. He twirled the heavy chain around his neck, taking pleasure in remembering it was solid gold, a present for himself a few years back.
He leaned forward on the dashboard and grinned at the guy that had just rolled into the parking lot – his arch rival Itachi. Girls scooted out of the way as he revved it up and skidded into a spot parallel to Kisame. He was a mean driver, ruthless behind the wheel and damn near unbeatable, plus the car he was driving was pretty good too.
The blue haired man watched him swing out of his car with well practised grace. His ripped jeans and leather jacket gave him a bad boy image to match his jet black ride. "Its a Kitano Touge" he heard him say as he slouched on the bonnet, bigging it up.
His race success was due to his amazing eyesight, or that's what everyone said. Itachi was the quiet type who never let on his secrets, he was a mystery to most and hadn't let even Deidara pose with his car! The crowd engulfed him and Kisame was lost to his thoughts, pondering the arrival of the team that made it all possible.
The clock struck 10:30. Only half and hour left till the race. A giant green Lincoln Navigator screamed though the red lights of 3rd district and headed away from the river at breakneck speed. Inside, through the wires and electrical equipment two men were hurriedly fixing cameras onto tripods. Zetsu and Tobi were the tech guys that filmed every race, every wreck and every win. Hand held camcorders as well as professional style cameras were set up along the race course which was planned in advance. As the race took place, every detail would be filmed, edited then sold on the black market. They had to be at the start line at 11 to film the start, it was going to be a close one.
"Zetsu san! Watch out!" Tobi squealed as they ran through a level crossing
"Don't be a backseat driver!" Zetsu yelled back and his long green hair fell in his face as he slammed on the breaks. They lurched into the parking lot, relieved to see the two biggest names were not here just yet. Tobi was running round hi-fiving the drivers, at 16 this was all one big high for him.
"How u doin' Tony nice ride, fixed it up I see!" he said excitedly to his biker mate with the beard, they chattered for a while in hyperactive bliss.
Suddenly an elaborate horn blasted through the noise and an elegant yellow BMW M5 cruised round the corner. Even if no one had seen the driver, they knew the car from various wanted posters up around the city. Intricate spiral vinyl's decorated the sides and roof, creating a hypnotising pattern, no music followed this car – it travelled in silence, even the engine was a quiet drone. The car radiated power and money. Costing nearly £60,000 it was a car for only the very rich. The door opened slowly and a scantily clad, blue haired woman got out. She raised a megaphone to her lips and addressed the swelling crowd,
"15 minutes till the race, competitors get to the start line" She leaned against the glass windows as her partner got out. Orange hair blew in the breeze and Pein looked over the heat haze at her. He was the organizer of these events. The centre of the web. Everyone answered to him; he knew people and could get anything he desired. Though even he had to visit Sasori's garage every now and then.
5 minutes to the race. Four cars lined the street. Sasori in his red Dodge Charger, Kisame in a blue Honda NSX, Itachi sitting smug in his midnight black Kitano Touge and Pein glaring through the windscreen of the shiny yellow BMW. Konan stood in the middle of the road with a flare gun, she'd fire it to start the race. Zetsu and Tobi sat atop the green monster truck with cameras set to automatic and both were tense with anticipation. People lined both sides of the street, waving and shouting and ...betting.
Kakuzu was at his happiest when taking bets. He was the centre of attention with money being thrown at him from every direction. The car he drove here was parked nearby, but he never raced it himself, collecting bets was more fun and more important. He left the whole driving thing to his friend/enemy roommate Hidan.
Hidan had painted the car to match himself, he was that vain. It was dazzling silver with purple underglow and violet tinted lights. Even the brake lights were painted purple to match the windscreen wipers which matched the buttons on the sound system in the boot. He sat grinning crookedly as Kakuzu made more money than sense. He could afford a whole fleet of cars if he wished, he could afford a giant house on the West Side instead of the miserable basement flat they'd had since college. Hidan sighed. Kakuzu was a rich cheapskate, but at least he let him drive.
He put the car into gear and revved it up a little, shooting forwards to the start line between Kisame and Itachi. He could feel the tension between the racers as a sour taste in his mouth, though when they saw the familiar silver Nissan Skyline cruise up they relaxed. Everyone knew Hidan was the worst driver this side of Suna. Even men that had never seen a car could drive better than him, he always crashed and every car he drove got written off. Yet still he lived. He'd crashed more times than he'd finished races, he'd broken bones and spilt blood on tarmac but still he raced. Zetsu and Tobi sold lots of footage of him and his death defying barrel rolls over walls, the many explosions he'd been caught running away from and the time he actually got set on fire.
Lots of people thought that Kakuzu leant him his car just because he enjoyed seeing him crash and burn. Perhaps he told him that he was good at driving, or that it wasn't the winning but the taking part. That may be the case but Hidan had never been to hospital - Kakuzu always made sure he was allright. Going to hospital would raise too many questions since street racing was illegal in this part of the world. The last thing they wanted was to bring the whole organization down. The truth was, Hidan just loved to drive.
The engines fired into action.
The clock hit 11
Konan held the flare gun aloft, fired once, and a red beam of light shot into the air. The cars jerked forwards narrowly missing her skinny form and filling the air with dust and fumes.
The race began...
Hidan immediately took the lead, the power of the Skyline running away with him. He held it briefly before being over taken by Pein and Itachi, one on either side, both had NOS. The blue flames flared out of their exhaust pipes as they sped off ahead. Sasori was coming up on his left, trying to pit manoeuvre him off the road. It was important to steer clear of his wheels – his whole car was rigged with hidden traps to cheat with. Hidan began to swerve erratically; he was nearing 130 kmh and was losing control already. Up in front Pein was taking the lead, pushing 160kmh and smoothly cutting in front of the Uchiha. Kisame lagged behind, he couldn't be bothered to get his car torn up overtaking Sasori and he was low on Nos, Hidan would crash out soon anyway and that would at least spare him last place.
Sure enough, 5 minutes into the race as they swung round a bend in the road, Hidan got the drift wrong. Kisame reached for the hand break, pulled it and changed down gears to up the revs, at the same time he floored the pedal and slammed the wheel round – creating the perfect drift. He skidded neatly avoiding Hidan who'd overdone the breaking. The car skipped onto its roof, achieving an astounding pirouette mid-flight and smashing down into the barriers. The windows were blown out and tires hung limply off the wheels. Another write off. An unfortunate lamppost was wrapped around the passenger door, shards of metal were speared though the backs of the seats inside though Kisame had no doubt that the little bastard was still alive.
Only half the race remained, and there was no sign of cops, so far so good. Sasori gunned the Dodge down the straight, becoming a red blur in the inky black darkness. Up ahead Pein and Itachi fought for the lead, the roar of the crowd was growing in the distance as they rapidly approached the finish line. Yellow and black paint scraped together and sparks flew as the cars slammed together. Itachi was a cruel driver, in it only to win, and with one last burst of Nos he crossed the line just ahead of Pein, who fumed with anger.
Kisame and Sasori battled for 3rd place on the last corner, drifting in unison. Tobi was there with his camera, filming the last stages of the race, Sasori made a split second decision and detonated his spike strip- sabotaging Kisame metres before the end. His tires flapped uselessly as all the air rushed from them and he cursed as he swept over the line just a few seconds too late. Tobi cheered at the amazing recording and immediately got in radio contact with those back at the start.
"hey this is Tobi" he squealed into the static, "Hidan didn't make it...again. See you guys tomorrow huh?"
"Tobi?" Zetsu's voice rasped through the bad connection, "Party...meet at...warehouse tonight"
"Great see you there" he yelled back but the line had died.
Grabbing his equipment he hitched a lift with the nearest driver, crammed in the backseat with a load of women he didn't know Tobi felt like the luckiest 16 year old in the world.
Out on the deserted road, Kakuzu cruised in a borrowed car. This was the second time this month he'd had to waste his time for that stupid roommate of his. He followed the smoke and smell of burning to the sweeping bend in the road. Prime drifting ground – but it seemed Hidan didn't manage it. The beautiful Nissan Skyline lay ruined on its roof, the chrome grill was ruined by the smoke and scratches lined both sides. Kakuzu sighed. This was going to cost.
"Hidan?" he called tentatively, opening the door and stepping out into the clear night. A low croak came from within the broken vehicle and he crouched down to peer into the dark interior. The drivers door had been wrenched off by the force of the crash and Hidan lay sprawled inside, half upside down. Blood dripped from the wheel and the passenger chair was pinning him down. A crimson patch was spreading across his ruined shirt, but Kakuzu stayed calm, this had all happened before.
"ahhh..." the platinum haired man sighed as he was eventually pulled free of the wreckage
"Come on we have a party to go to!" grumbled Kakuzu impatiently and laid Hidan over the backseats of the borrowed Honda Civic.
"Sorry...about your car, mate" he breathed and stretched out.
Kakuzu glared at him from the drivers seat, knocked the car into gear and shot off into the night. He navigated through the city, down into the industrial district where everything was quiet and dead in the still of night. He was careful they were not followed, and after circling the block a few times to make sure they were alone, he pulled up outside a small warehouse. Faint music could be heard from the inside – the party in full swing...
Hidan collapsed on one of the soft sofas in the backroom. The room was small and dim with dark walls and a dirty floor, but it was reasonably quiet in here, plus there was a sink where he could wash off the blood. God he hated wrecking Kakuzu's cars all the time, but he just couldn't make them drive! The older man didn't seem to mind that much -it was fun after all. Gingerly he pulled off his bloodstained shirt and used it to wipe the sweat out of his eyes. He kicked his well worn trainers across the room and lay back, feet over the armrest. A wound throbbed on his chest, also from the crash. It bled freely and would need stitches. He pressed his rolled up shirt over it, to soak up the blood and groaned at the fresh pain that rippled though him. Kakuzu wouldn't be back for a few minutes would he?
Hidan threw the reddening shirt across the room and traced a pale finger around the edge of the wound, making himself shiver. He closed his eyes and pushed away the feeling of guilt that threatened to ruin the moment. Letting out a deep sigh he let his cool index finger explore the raw red laceration just above his ribs. Sweat erupted along his brow and before he knew it one finger became two, he never even heard the door swing back open, never heard his own mutterings of delight or Kakuzu's exclamation of disgust.
He snapped back to reality, however, when the other man laid a strong hand across his throat.
"Stop that right now, idiot. Do you want to make it worse?" Kakuzu growled, waving a needle and thread for stitches.
Hidan's eyes flicked open in horror, he never planned for Kakuzu to witness this! "I...I never" he stuttered, glancing guiltily at his bloody fingers, then laying back again with the pressure on his throat.
"Oh god" he muttered, his eyes rolled back into his head and a blush rose on his cheeks. Kakuzu was touching his neck! Man, he had to know...didn't he know? He grimaced slightly as he felt his pants grow tight, and all the strength left his body to be replaced by heat.
"Hidan! What the fuck!" Kakuzu yelled when he felt something press up against his body. He let go of Hidan like he was red hot and backed off. The dude on the couch grabbed a pillow to try and cover the evidence but it was too late,
"I wasn't...I...er" he stammered in embarrassment.
"...Ok then" Kakuzu said slightly unsure, then turned and left him laying there. God what was that all about he wondered to himself as he walked through the smoke and noise of the party to find a decent seat away from the dancers. He realized he'd picked a spot furthest away from anyone else, a place to be alone with his thoughts...and his thoughts were private.
The metal staircase creaked ominously as people flocked up and down from the balcony. Deidara leaned casually on the railings overlooking the crowded dance floor and makeshift tables. The warehouse was made of corrugated metal for the most part, abandoned then recycled as a rave hall. The upper level was supported on stone pillars, and underneath it lovers curled on beat up sofas and drank wine from boxes. He knew if he looked he would see Kisame lounging in the midst of a crowd of beautiful girls, there was just something about him that attracted them in droves.
The whole den was full of smoke and black engine grease, but it was somewhere they could relax and be free. That's what it was all about – freedom. Deidara's eyes glazed over as he thought, and listened to the throb of music pulsing from a brilliant white Mitsubishi Evo parked to the back of the hall. The hood was up and men were peeing in at the engine, the music was coming from an expensive sound system in the trunk, so loud that it served as a dj's desk and fuelled the party.
He scanned the jumping mass of heads and waving hands in the semi darkness for Sasori, he hadn't won the race but that didn't matter here – he was a street racer and that was all that counted. A side door slammed open and Kakuzu strode out, he looked troubled. Deidara nodded to him as he climbed the stairs and slouched exhausted in a leather chair near the back. He didn't seem to want to socialize with the others so Deidara went in search of a better dancing partner.
Stopping at the bar to get a drink or two, he spied his redhead hiding in the shadows cradling a glass of sake. Sasori sauntered over like he owned the place and pressed an unsteady hand on the inside of Deidara's leg. His breath smelled of alcohol but the blonde knew his limit was more than a few glasses of cheap sake. They met each others eyes and headed immediately to the centre of the room. Dancers crowded them from all sides – pushing them even closer and the heat and noise was intoxicating. Glowing lights hung on crude chains from the lofty ceiling but gave little light to the intimacy of the two now gripping each other tightly.
Sasori linked his hands round his taller friends back and threw his head back to shake his hair out of his eyes. Deidara's thumbs hooked in the waistband of the other man's jeans and his fingers curved delicately into his back pockets. Here, in this place they were spared the degrading glances of the outside world who could not accept them. Here no one was an outsider and he and Sasori could dance all night long...together. Deidara dipped his handsome face and their lips met softly, Sasori's mouth was already open to accept him and his tongue flicked the top of his mouth lightly.
"Enough teasing" the shorter man growled, and ran his fingers through Deidara's mesh shirt and down his sides. He sighed and leaned in closer. They swayed together for almost an instant until Deidara got bored and changed the tone. Grabbing Sasori by his back and swinging him around for a fairy tale kiss he began their favourite blend of dirty dancing followed by even dirtier dancing. Sasori didn't look like he'd be nimble or quick on his toes in the way of a dancer, but Deidara had all the moves of a professional. From the balcony, Konan watched in appreciation as the blonde swung his boyfriend from left to right with a hand on his back and their hips locked together.
The thin white door banged open a second time and Pein strode through. The whole room raised their voices in an eardrum-bursting cheer and he posed slightly, appreciating the attention despite not winning the race. He raised the bottle in his hand,
"PARTY ON!" he yelled and stomped up the stairs to the balcony where Konan was waiting.
"Hia honey" she smiled sweetly and placed a kiss on his pierced lips, he handed her a drink and they stared out at the crowd. Pein stiffened as he saw Itachi with his new car standing at the back. His was the sleek white Mitsubishi – the prize they were racing for. Noticing he was being watched Itachi raised the keys and dangled them tantalizingly, making Pein angry and jealous. Tension was building and it seemed likely there would be a fight later.
"Where's Tobi and Zetsu?" she asked to change the subject, "I hear they got some good footage tonight"
"They're out the back sorting it out" Pein said briefly, "they never liked parties much anyway"
The small group had known each other for years, and though they seemed to be rivals they were in fact a strong team. If the cops came calling, they covered each others tracks and watched each others backs, it was a way of life more than just a job. Pein and Konan fell into silence and the white door on the side crashed open for the third time that night.
"Check this out guys" Tobi screamed in pride, waving a dvd over his head. "Tonight's race re-mastered! We're gonna be rich!"
Zetsu just grinned and winked at Kakuzu who'd got up for a better look. He liked money and could always find use for more, after all he had a new car to pay for now. He too scanned the hall looking for his roommate, Hidan but couldn't catch sight of his silver hair or vivid purple eyes.
Konan was suddenly struck by an idea.
"Pein, why don't we all go out drifting, you know along the mountain road..." she whispered into his ear. The corners were wide and the views were amazing, it was an easy drive – one even Hidan could manage. The ride would be relaxing after all the stress of the day, and the race always ended at the parking lot with the views across the lake...
"Sure." he agreed. "I'll drive"