"I know you're leaving."
The voice came from the darkness, surprising the man in the half-light of dusk. Violet eyes cast around with a jerk, a knife appearing in hand—and then, seeing nothing, turned downwards.
"Kid?"
Hidan's voice was a bit louder than that appropriate for his supposed stealth approach as he peered into the shadows. A figure half his height regarded him with dark eyes, light reflecting off the iris. The shinobi gear he wore was too big, pinned and twisted to fit him.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" the pale-haired man demanded.
The child shifted, stuffing his hands into his pockets then pulling them out again. "I don't want you to leave," he admitted, eyes fixed on the ground.
Hidan pulled out another knife. The kid—he didn't recall the name, even though he was technically supposed to have been teaching him—was probably one of the least irritating people in the whole village. At least, he didn't seem to be as much of a cowardly heathen as the rest.
"How'd you know I was leaving?" he asked, curiosity getting the better of him for a few seconds.
"It's what you're like," the boy told him. The kid had always been freakishly smart for a seven-year-old. Probably why he'd been apprenticed so young. "I don't want"— the child continued, then paused, clenching his fists. "Please don't—please stay."
Hidan snorted. "What, you afraid of"—
"I want to come with you," the child blurted out, making eye contact for the first time. "Please take me with you."
It was . . . an interesting proposition. The kid did, at least, pay some attention when Hidan decided to recite large portions of text from the Book of Jashin, and didn't bother to argue. Abandoning a potential convert was never a good idea.
Hidan flicked his wrist, sending a kunai flying. The boy caught it, barely, eyes widening. The man bared his teeth in something that might, if you squinted, have looked like a smile.
"Tell you what," he said. "If you survive the night, you can come with me."
As the moon rose in the sky, two figures made their way across a rolling field. Hidan flicked out his tongue, savoring the taste of the blood still left on his lips, and turned to the person next to him.
"So, kid, what was your name again?"
The boy looked from crimson-stained fingers, and the shadows seemed to cling to his silhouette.
"Shikamaru," he replied softly.
"Oi! You fall asleep again?"
Shikamaru opened his eyes to a dappled canopy of leaves, experiencing the split-second of confusion that comes directly after regaining consciousness. His view was interrupted by a large, brightly colored scythe that swung into his range of vision. Hidan's pale face and hair arrived seconds afterwards.
"What?" Shikamaru asked drowsily, not bothering to move at all.
"Ha! I knew it!" Hidan gestured with his scythe, dangerously close to cutting the prone figure open. "You were sleeping!"
"Wasn't." Shikamaru pushed himself up on his elbows.
"Fucking liar," came the reply. "Your shadow was gone. I could see it."
He groaned, getting to his feet. Note to self: napping on the forest floor will make you stiff.
Hidan retracted his scythe, wiping it off on his pants and shoving it under his jacket. "You shouldn't fall asleep while praying."
Shikamaru started to move. "I'm not that disrespectful. I finish praying, and then I nap." He knelt down next to the body of a woman unlucky enough to be ambushed along a forest road by two rogue ninja. He began to rifle through her pockets, taking care not to get blood from the still-warm corpse on his hands. "I don't know about you, but I'd like to sleep in a bed tonight," he grumbled in response to Hidan's pointed look.
The duo moved along the road in silence. Dirt path soon gave way to a well-worn road, and soon other travelers began to pass, hurrying from one destination to another. No matter how thick the traffic became, however, people stayed away from the pair. Hidan seemed normal, even pretty, from a distance, but as one approached, details not obvious at first glance began to appear—dried blood under his fingernails, stains not completely scrubbed out of his shirt, the vicious scratch through his hitai-ate. Anyone who got close enough to look into his eyes made sure to give him a wide birth.
As the sun rose higher in the sky, Shikamaru pulled his cloak around him. He felt exposed without his shadows gathered around him. Hidan began to get bored and restless, something that the younger knew would, probably, lead to another corpse.
Shikamaru nudged his partner. "There should be something up ahead. We can get something to eat." And hopefully take a nap, he added mentally. Then he paused, turning around.
Two people stood behind them, and Shikamaru suddenly realized that he, Hidan and the strangers were the only people on the road. The two newcomers had snuck up behind them—which meant that they were at least ninja, because while Hidan didn't pay much attention to his surroundings civilians were always incredibly loud.
They wore matching cloaks—red clouds, outlined in white, set on a black background. The taller of the pair, a man wearing a mask over the lower half of his face, glared out from oddly hued eyes. A woman with purple hair regarded them impassively. Shikamaru could tell they wanted something from their manner.
Several yards ahead, Hidan turned around. "C'mon kid!" he exclaimed, and then, seeing the weird pair, he took a few steps towards them. "Who the fuck are you?"
The woman spoke, her voice carrying easily across to him. "We represent the Akatsuki."
Hidan gave them a blank look. "Don't know, don't care. C'mon, kid, we're leaving," he added to Shikamaru.
Shikamaru hesitated, and the woman continued. "We would like to invite you to join our organization."
Hidan turned back around. "What?"
"We know who you are, Hidan. Yugakure's last rogue shinobi. We believe your skills would be . . . of value to us."
"Yeah? Well, whoop-de-fucking-doo. You haven't got shit that's of value to me."
The woman raised her eyebrows. "The Akatsuki are one of the most powerful and influential independent shinobi organizations. I doubt that we would be unable to help you achieve your goals."
Hidan laughed. "Bitch, there's only one thing I want, and you sure as hell can't give it to me."
"I don't believe you're aware who you're speaking to," the woman replied imperiously, and Shikamaru saw her eyebrows narrow in her first show of emotion.
"I know exactly who I'm talking to," Hidan sneered.
The man wearing the cloak bearing red clouds spoke up for the first time, addressing his companion. "I refuse to work with this imbecile."
Shikamaru winced, a half a second before Hidan pointed emphatically at the man and raised his voice. "Fuck you, asshole! It's not like I'd want to work with your ugly-ass face anyways!"
"Enough," the other man growled. Shikamaru stepped aside just in the nick of time to avoid the attack—but Hidan didn't bother to. Blood spattered the ground as a kunai buried itself in his gut. One end was clenched in the fist of his attacker, the other protruding from his back. Shikamaru winced. Probably went right through the spine. Hidan convulsed, spitting blood on his opponent—who, unimpressed, began to pull his knife out of what he probably thought was now a corpse.
Hidan's head shot up at the same time he brought his hand down hard. The man pulled his hand back as his eyes widened, impressively fast, but not quite fast enough. Crimson covered the tip of Hidan's blade, and he brought it up to his lips. Green and red eyes regarded him narrowly as he began to draw a circle on the ground with his own blood. Then, coming to the decision, the man rushed forward a second time—
He tripped over his own feet, crashing to the ground. A few feet away, black and white patterns faded back to Hidan's typical skin color, which remained marred only by the blood soaking his chest. High pitched laughter pierced the air, and Shikamaru remembered the second person who approached him. She was in the same place she had been, the only expression on her face slightly raised eyebrows, very obviously not worried, which meant—
Shikamaru spun to see the man who should have been dead picking himself up from the ground. The attack had connected—the blood dripping on the ground gave testament to that—but he seemed unhurt.
"What the fuck," Hidan said emphatically. Shikamaru pulled out his own knife, wondering for the first time if Hidan would be able to handle this by himself.
The man wearing the mask narrowed his eyes, and Shikamaru watched as a plethora of what appeared to be thick strings wormed their way out of the man's wide sleeves, twitching as if they had a mind of their own.
The woman finally spoke. "Enough, Kakuzu."
String Man turned his angry eyes to her—she was obviously the superior, but he was reluctant to obey. He didn't move to attack, though his strings kept up their eerie movement.
"So if I joined this . . . Akatsuki shit or whatever—I'd get to work with him?"
Shikamaru turned to see Hidan wearing an uncharacteristically pensive look on his face. The younger couldn't admit he wasn't at least a little interested: he had never met anyone else immortal like Hidan, and Hidan had said his ability came from Jashinism – a religion of which he and Shikamaru were the only practitioners left.
"I refuse to"—
The man—Kakuzu—growled, but the woman interrupted him: "Yes."
Hidan looked with some interest at Kakuzu. "And I'd still get to kill people?"
"Yes."
Hidan shrugged. "Sure, why the fuck not."
Shikamaru regarded the board in front of him with an intensity he rarely applied to anything. He'd let himself be backed into an unfortunate position—the black bishop threatened his king from across the board, but his king was left unable to move, necessitating the change in position (or perhaps sacrifice) of another piece. As he considered his position, he could feel the gaze of his opponent boring holes in his skull.
Grabbing the top of his rook, Shikamaru moved it five squares to the right, blocking the threat path.
"Your move," he said, but there was no need. Itachi was already flicking his Sharingan right and left with blinding speed. Shikamaru had mixed feelings about the other man using his kekkei genkai while playing shogi—genjutsu was Itachi's specialty, after all—but he didn't have much of a choice. The only person who might play with him was Sasori but Sasori gave off horror novel vibes even more than Hidan did.
Itachi moved a pawn one square closer to the end. It was half-covered in blood stains from the time Shikamaru had lent the set to Hidan and Kakuzu. Halfway through the ensuing match, Hidan had flipped the board because he was losing, and Kakuzu had attempted to murder him. It took Shikamaru two hours to find the pieces in the grass after their fight, and another hour to glue the ones which had been broken back together.
Shikamaru moved his knight into the next phase of his master strategy. In the next room, a faint splashing could be heard. Apparently, Kisame hadn't been taking Sunagakure's hot, dry climate very well, and had monopolized the bathroom for his own needs. Unfortunately, this meant no hot water, but Shikamaru wasn't about to tell the large, dangerous shark man in the bathtub and his living sword 'no'. The members of the Akatsuki were used to taking what they wanted, never reacting well to any sort of denial.
"I suppose he's using all the water," Itachi mused as he made his move, and Shikamaru looked up with bemusement. Perhaps this was an opportunity? Shikamaru certainly couldn't tell Kisame to stop doing something, but he thought that the man might jump off a cliff if Itachi said so.
"Probably," he agreed, examining his position. Damn. Itachi's strength had always been analyzing patterns, and he seemed to be catching on to Shikamaru's strategy and purposefully thwarting it—while coming ever closer to victory. Shikamaru would have to synthesize a plan on the fly from his position . . .
Keeping his face purposefully blank so as to not give away his thoughts, he adjusted the position of his king. Shikamaru had never won against Itachi—defeating the Uchiha, was, in fact, a goal he was particularly invested in. The scenario did beg the question of how Itachi would react. Shikamaru hadn't seen Itachi lose before, and although the man seemed almost perfectly composed—well, so did Kakuzu, until you irritated him, and Shikamaru did his absolute best to minimize his interactions with Kakuzu because he had basic self-preservation instincts.
Itachi moved his rook, and Shikamaru wondered if the Uchiha had, in fact, ever lost at all. Somehow, he doubted it. Even amongst S-rank shinobi, Itachi was in a class all his own. A lethal, incredibly dangerous class. If so, who knew how he'd take losing? Shikamaru moved forward with his new plan, as subtly as he could, wondering if he should just let his opponent win. On the other hand, the only reason he was playing at all was to enjoy himself and get a good mental workout, which purposefully losing would not give him.
The duo went back and forth in silence for the next five minutes, pausing between turns to contemplate a method of attack. Shikamaru just wanted to play shogi with someone competent who wouldn't try to murder him halfway through—and, really, what sort of small talk did one make with Uchiha Itachi? He seemed perfectly happy to play in silence, and so the next thing Shikamaru said was, "I have to go."
Itachi nodded once, then expertly tipped all the pieces off of the board and into their pouch. They would both remember the setup anyways, so there was no point in preserving it and cluttering the room.
Shikamaru grabbed his heavy cloak on his way out the door. It would make him sweltering hot, but it was better than burning up in the sun's rays. Sunagakure was filled with the sounds of children playing and the ever-present background noise of people and conversation. Strong scents from restaurants and street vendors selling everything from dango to ramen pervaded the air. However, the one ever-present thing was the sand. It was truly inescapable, embedding itself in hair, eyes and shoes whenever you stepped outside. Shikamaru was glad that it was Itachi and Kisame who had been sent here as opposed to Hidan and Kakuzu. Aside from the fact that Itachi played shogi, Hidan would've spent all his spare moments loudly complaining about how uncomfortable he was.
The Kazekage's tower was, thankfully, a short walk from the place they were staying and easily visible from anywhere in the village.
A/N: i should be working on Blood and Water. anyways enjoy my weird ass shikatema au i have no idea where it's going.
reviews are love :D