The sun beamed warmly down that day, illuminating forests and cities alike. The insects at home among the dirt and the birds soaring through the brilliantly blue sky both praised her by their own means.
Hidan's footsteps stopped abruptly. He stared raptly off into the distance, allowing himself a few moments to marvel at the view ahead. A field of tall yellow flowers stood stiffly in the still air, every petal soaked in the sun's rays. The meadow stretched on until it met the looming forest acres away.
He wore a constant expression of disdain even as he continued onwards through the sunflowers. Pride and unwillingness to contradict his beliefs prevented Hidan from betraying even the smallest sign of happiness. The right to frolic in a meadow had been snatched away the instant he'd chosen his path.
Hidan was a follower of the shinobi way to a tee, the offspring of the devil born into a world of hatred. Still, he hadn't always craved bloodshed. The sweet taste of life, or rather the destruction of it, only really touched his lips after he'd been forced to partake in war. It was in despair of the resulting addiction that he'd turned to an invisible deity by whose laws anything less than total slaughter was a sin.
Crime became Hidan's child and prayer his burdens' alleviation. An unhealthy superiority complex saved him from the self-loathing formed by a combination of collective rejection and guilt. The latter problem as well as the weight of the pain he willingly inflicted on himself disappeared with relative insanity.
But Hidan felt that it would be hypocritical to preach the sharing of pain and then to rejoice in the small pleasures of nature he'd stolen from so many others. If the field was doused in human blood, Hidan would have bathed in it. Privately, however, he'd think it a shame to ruin such a pure, bright yellow.
With painted nails, Hidan pushed aside bright green stalks, his eyes scanning the field for the back of his partner's cloak. A flash of red and black caught his eye and the leaves surrounding him rustled loudly as he ran towards it.
Life as an immortal whose sole purpose was to kill had been filled with loneliness. The absence of real companionship burned a void in Hidan's heart that Jashin refused to fill. But humans were so weak, their lives so transient, while he was both powerful and eternal.
Kakuzu was different. Even though he insisted that all life ended at some point, he was closer to another immortal than anyone Hidan had ever come into contact with. He joined the Akatsuki a year after meeting him for the first time with the sole ambition of remaining by his side.
By no stretch of the imagination had Hidan taken Kakuzu's abilities at his word and the testimony of others. He'd tested that supposed pseudo-immortality time and time again and had never once succeeded in any of his attempts against Kakuzu's life. Each and every one of those defeats lifted Kakuzu up onto a higher pedestal in Hidan's mind.
Kakuzu bore all of the traits that Hidan lacked. He was responsible, calm, careful, rational, and wise with money. Although Hidan hated his unquenchable, sinful greed, he ate far better alongside Kakuzu than he ever had on the run as a lone criminal. Kakuzu's direction was almost always accurate and sensible and before long, Hidan found himself following him without question. Kakuzu's fighting style complimented Hidan's so nicely at that. Their flawless teamwork never failed to defeat whatever enemy they encountered. Beside each other, they were undefeatable.
Although Hidan had often been beheaded in Kakuzu's occasional fits of blind rage, a part of him was privately pleased at the reassurance that Kakuzu's brutality was the reason he would never be replaced. Hidan was the only suitable partner for him. Any other man with Hidan's attitude would have died a hundred times over since he and Kakuzu had joined forces. And no matter how much Hidan angered Kakuzu, intentionally or otherwise, he always remained by his side.
Although Hidan plainly refused to show it, he respected and trusted Kakuzu far more than any other man, including the faceless leader that every member of the Akatsuki seemed to fear. The rare compliment from his lips sent more of a thrill down Hidan's spine than the death of a crude heathen under his curse.
Hidan emerged into a small clearing in the sunflowers before long. His eyes widened in astonishment as he viewed Kakuzu hunched over slightly, his dark mask around his neck and his face buried in silken yellow petals.
Hidan didn't dare speak for fear of losing the moment, but upon noticing his presence, Kakuzu immediately straightened and lifted his mask back up over the bridge of his nose. His duotone eyes narrowed dangerously and met Hidan's. He didn't flinch away from them but instead greeted Kakuzu's gaze unwaveringly.
With a steady voice untainted by the slightest hint of sarcasm, Hidan spoke. ""
"I love you."
If any blush rose in his cheeks then, it was barely noticeable even against his pale skin. Kakuzu simply turned and walked away towards the forest without responding to his confession or so much as verbally acknowledging his presence.
A wide grin spread across Hidan's face and he hurried after his partner, entirely willing and prepared to follow him to the death that seemed so impossibly distant.
Memories weren't so strong and the image faded quickly. Light gave way to endless darkness and the touch of soft leaves to excruciating pain. Hidan could no longer remember what warmth felt like and as desperately as he clawed at that fleeting recollection, it slipped like running water through his outstretched fingers.
For the first time in what seemed like forever, regret overpowered rage and the desire for revenge. He'd never spoken those final three words. Damn that façade of pride! He would now pay any price for a second chance. Never once had he slept beside Kakuzu or held him in his arms. Hidan would never know the taste of his lips or the rough texture of his stitched chest. Never once had he expected the end to be lurking so nearby.
What a pitiful excuse for a self-promised eternity this was.