Himitsu: CHAPTER FOUR YEAH~! It's finally time for some slight Kakashi x Hidan action!
Maara: Yup! Sorry for the wait guys. Himitsu's laptop was kidnapped so we had to figure out! But we have it up now~! Please review! They make up the very fibers of my being.
Enjoy and know we own nothing! (*Disclaimer*)
Hidan let the scents wash over him. Oak, maple, and pine, were present. It must have rained or something because they were a bit more noticeable than usual. The Jashinist could detect the cascades of the forest fragrance, almost making a symphony in His head. The boom of a rotting log that released the spores of the fungi, was like a great bass drum. The twitter under of the patch of wild flowers was much like the flutes. The tall trees' leaves making constant syncopation of faint flickering aromas. There was the varying smoke of restaurants dispersing. They were barbeques, with their rich saucy pork ribs. To the zealot they were the bright notes of a xylophone being repetitively struck. Then there was smell of the miso spice in ramen; obviously these people weren't the cleanest or the most cautious. That reminded Hidan of a low brass blaring out. In the air, crisp baked bread and spongy cake could be visualized, they were the clarinets with the wild melody. Hidan growled as more annoying thoughts circled in his head.
Like how the reinforced metal of his jail car had the smell of decay and death.
Hidan once again became airborne as the fucking whore at the wheel hit a pothole. It might have been the zealot's bruised brain, but they were now accelerating at a frightening pace. Hidan arms were bound in front of him, and unable to catch him as the truck made a sudden turn. They were cuffed together tight, thick and possibly inescapable cuffs. There were heavy chains surrounding them; the shackles dug into the Jashinist's forearms, leaving imprints and cutting the circulation of the limbs. Then there were the new fucking charka-sucking straps wrapping around the Akatsuki member's arms. All together, they were numb, stiff, and only added to his discomfort as he was thrown off his feet and straight into a very solid wall. Hidan saw stars. Another tire was dipped into an angry pothole, causing the Jashinist to tumble head over heels into the prison benches that lined the sides of the moving truck. The albino groaned, his whole body aching. Hidan no longer bothered to get off the cold, steel floor. It actually felt good against his heated and now black and blue skin. There was the sound of a padlock being thrown away and, for the first time in weeks, Hidan was fully exposed to sunlight. The zealot yelped with pain, trying to turn away from the light. He froze as someone laughed behind him.
The ugly blonde prison bitch! The Jashinist swore at his horrible luck, as the female member of Team 10 dragged him out by his hair.
"What the fuck, fat bitch!? What's with touching my hair? I thought you were supposed to hate me, not stroke my—" Hidan's rant was cut short by a kunai piercing his stomach.
"Not—another—word," the girl growled. Her voice was soft, but the Jashinist saw the Konoha ninja's fists shaking with anger. Deciding not to care, Hidan continued his taunting.
"I don't know about you, but I really think the last thing I need is a fucking relationship. But I do have time, after all, killing jonin like your Sensei is so easy nowadays."
Hidan barely had time to laugh when he was attacked. The angry blonde student kicked the zealot, launching him backwards into a tree; it let out a huge craack. The Akatsuki member gasped as the air was knocked out of him. He tried to stand, but his face was met with a high-heeled boot. The albino felt the familiar feeling of blood gushing down his cheeks and neck. It mingled with his light hair, making it a pinkish hue. Staggering from the blood loss, Hidan glared at the chunin. Before he could open his mouth, Ino swept his feet from under him. In the air, the zealot saw his chance. He tilted his body as he fell, making it so he landed on his side.
He rolled down a bumpy hill, leaves sticking to his bloody hair. He would have gone all the way, but a boot stopped him. Hidan looked up into the face of a large ninja. Shikamaru the Pineapple was grinning beside him. The Jashinist sighed. His luck sucked. With a resized foot the heaviest member of Team 10 kicked the prisoner.
Hidan rolled back up.
Or he would have if a hundred little shadows didn't pierce his flesh. Pineapple smirked as the Akatsuki member struggled, refusing to give up. The zealot's blood stained the fallen leaves a thick red. Squirrels chattered in the trees and Hidan almost let loose a shiver at the Leaf ninja's insane grin. He looked too much like Deidara when he blowing shit up. The Pineapple released the jutsu, and the zealot sighed and sat up. The fun was over, or was it? The Jashinist felt the heart-stopping pain of his muscles being torn about. The shinobi in front of him had modified his jutsu. It still pierced him, but instead of restraining him, the shadows kept whirling inside the victim. The jutsu lashed the unlucky receiver with shadowy tendrils, tearing tendons and tissues, twisting organs completely, and distorting and destroying the once important bodily function.
It was the most fucking amazing pain Hidan had experienced in a long, long time. The zealot screamed, squirmed, and leaked body fluids. And was loving every minute of it. As with all good things, however, someone had to wreck it. Through pleasure-clouded eyes, the Jashinist saw the blonde bitch yell at the pineapple head, mentioning something about a Kakashi person and trouble. Sighing, the girl looked over at the Akatsuki member. She grimaced as she gestured to the fat red shinobi, who looked disappointed. Hidan then saw a brown spiked ball headed towards him.
Everything faded to black with the crush of a neck.
When the masochist woke, cool fingers were running down his side. He nearly jumped out of his skin; the zealot was very unaccustomed with tender touches. Well, he really didn't know what to do with tender anything. Hidan was a believer of Jashin-sama, and as one he hated the idea of enjoying something nice. It was wrong for anyone but Jashin-sama to gentle with him; it was a sin. And it was very wrong that this unknown person was touching him at all; wrong that he was caressing him with such deep emotion.
It was wrong that he liked it.
No.
He didn't like the idea of being cared for by another human. He was not enjoying that someone had wanted to touch him. He didn't care who it was, or how he must disgust that person. After all, he was a lowlife criminal. One who murdered and slaughtered. The person must be holding back vomit for touching the Jashinist in that way. Wait…since when did he care? Not being able to hold back anymore, Hidan flung himself up. His eyes opened madly, searching for the one who cared for him—a masochist. A zealot. A murderer. He eyes found a Konoha ninja's, a smirk obvious behind his mask.
"Holy fucking Jashin!!!"
Water dripped out of the faucet. Kakashi stared at his hanging gloves and sighed. They were covered in blood from the mess of Hidan that Team Ten had dumped on the doorstep. Drying his bare hands with a towel nearby, he walked towards the living room. The cottage was small. It was one-story tall with a kitchen/dining room, a living room, one bedroom and two bathrooms, but only one shower. It was obvious it was an old lover's cottage. Wonderful.
Sliding the paper door to the side, the Copy Ninja's shoes made a soft crunch as he stepped on the soft tatami mats. One word to describe the small cottage was…woody. Dark oak beams crisscrossed overhead, and a single—but huge—light swung in the middle, casting light onto the living room below. A small, round fireplace crackled in the middle of the room, stationed in a small, sand-filled ditch in the floor. Small mats surrounded it, and in the far right, a bloodied couch stood—it's ornate black and gold design stained forever.
A small, cracked window was above the couch, with ringlets of vines leaking in and settling into the natural texture of the wooden walls. That's where Hidan lay, with an arm sliding off the edge of the couch, and his neck at an awkward position. First, I need to straighten that neck, noted Kakashi and got to work. A series of small cracks sounded as he returned the Akatsuki's neck to a normal position. He was still out. That was good though, because if the baka was awake, there was no way in hell that he would be able to treat his wounds.
The silver-haired shinobi scanned the body with his eyes. Several bruises and cuts covered the well-toned body. Gashes and hole of numerous sizes were already beginning to heal over. It was a gruesome sight. And he hadn't even taken the guy's pants off—he didn't plan to either. A large gaping hole on the baka's abdomen caught his attention first. Dried, cracked blood covered the injury, but it somehow already seemed to be healing and scabbing over. Kakashi snatched a roll of gauze from a nearby table. He unrolled it and lifted Hidan's torso from the couch, managing to reposition it against the arm of the couch. Grabbing a bottle of water mixed with disinfectant, the Copy Ninja poured a measured amount over the large wound and then went on to wrapping the Jashinist's lower torso with the gauze. After he was done, he lay the body back down and looked for more wounds.
After treating two wounds on an arm, Kakashi moved on to Hidan's chest. It wasn't as bad as the rest of the Jashinist's torso, and he knew that he could heal fast. But still, he had to make sure any broken ribs were set to heal properly. The Sharingan ran his fingers down the left side of the Akatsuki's torso, popping in any lopsided ribs. He moved to the other side, repeating the movement, and this time noticing Hidan's face. His previously angel-like white hair was now stained with blood, ridden with sand and dirt, and had little pieces of foliage stuck here and there. The entrancing magenta eyes were hidden behind slightly bruised eyelids, already healing. The only part of Hidan that seemed to be fine was his lips. They had a soft rose tinge and looked so soft and full, especially compared to the rest of the Akatsuki's body. Kakashi snapped his mind back to the ribs, only to notice that one of his hands had began to slowly reach for Hidan's lips. Stupid disobedient hand. He felt the baka stir beside him, and then he suddenly sprang up from the couch. Deep magenta eyes were staring at him.
"Holy fucking Jashin!!"
Kakashi reeled back slightly in surprise. He looked back at the Akatsuki. "Oh look, the princess is up."
"Stop calling me that!! And what the fuck were you doing, shithead? I'm not a sex toy for you to get hard with!"
The silver-haired jonin's eyes widened, he waved his hands in front of him innocently, "no-no-no, you got it all wrong, I was just treating your wounds! Look!" he exclaimed, gesturing towards Hidan's bound torso.
"I don't need my fucking wounds 'treated'. Don't you know I can heal myself, bastard?"
"Are you a medical ninja?"
Hidan's eyes flashed and loosened a bit, a childish defeated look showing on his face for a bit. "No, shithead. But what the hell does that matter?"
"It matters because you don't seem the kind of person to listen—or care for that matter—enough to know anything about first aid."
"I listen, shithead! It's just so hard to pay fucking attention to the lies of the heathens in between!"
"Right. That must be it."
The Akatsuki glared at the leaf ninja and shifted his body around, evidently trying to stand up. "Uh, you might not wanna do that," warned Kakashi, a look of protest in his eye. "No seriously, don't," he cautioned, beginning to step forward in case he needed to restraint Hidan. Hidan continued to anyway, the pain from his legs echoing in his head. After a bit though, his legs gave out and he fell back onto the couch, and began sliding onto the floor. Turning on to his stomach, he grabbed the armrest of the black and gold couch, and scrambled to stay on. "Here," whispered the Sharingan, giving the zealot a shove up the couch with his hands on his back.
"I don't need your help, Shithead!" yelled the zealot, shaking off Kakashi's hand after getting on the couch again.
Kakashi withdrew his hand immediately, and a strange feeling washed over him. Disappointment? Nah, it couldn't be, it was probably the smell of blood getting to him, right?
"See? I told you. You should thank me for doing that. Infection could've gotten in and that would've been horrible. For both of us."
The Akatsuki looked down, and seemed to be studying the handiwork of the bandages. "I still don't appreciate people touching my body without my permission, shithead."
Kakashi stuck his hand in his pocket and placed his other arm behind his head, looking at a spot of blood on one of the mats. "Yeah, well, it was either do it with you asleep, or watching you try to do it yourself when you were awake."
"I can take care of myself!"
"I'm sure you can, judging by the way we captured you the minute your partner left."
Hidan narrowed his eyes and tried to get up, shifting the weight to his other arm. "You fucking little…"
Kakashi looked up, his eyelids nearly closed in monotony. "Y'know, you won't be able to get up. Even if you bear the pain, you can't physically move your legs after sustaining injuries like—" He was abruptly cut by the sight of Hidan slowly inching over to where he stood. He raised his eyebrows in curiosity, "Uh, how did you do that?"
"How do you fucking think? I heal faster then normal, shithead. If I didn't, my immortality would be worthless if I got hurt in a fight." At last, he reached the Konoha ninja, the top of his head only reaching Kakashi's nose. Magenta eyes looked up at the jonin. "Now tell me. What the fuck am I doing here?"
"I told you already. Remember? Two days ago? You're in isolation."
"Isolation? This pathetic piece of shit is isolation?!" cried Hidan, looking around the innocent cottage. "What the hell?! I was expecting…more chains…and shit."
Kakashi smirked, the cool fabric of his mask molding to his face, "Trust me, I'm the only chains and shit you'll need."
Hidan looked up, eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You? That's pathetic. I mean, I knew ninja's were idiots, but I didn't know they underestimated me so fucking much."
Rolling his eyes, the Copy Ninja sat down on a nearby chair, leaning back and crossing his arms and legs loosely. "Whatever, you'll find out what I mean if you try something stupid. Oh, and go wash your hair or something, you smell like a dead cow."
"I smell like a dead cow? And whose fault do you think that is, shithead? Maybe if someone had given me a bucket of fucking water in that fucking Jashin-forsaken cell I might've—"
"Stop whining like a child and go do something about it before I strip you down and do it myself," Kakashi said, pulling out Icha Icha Paradise from his back pocket.
"You wouldn't dare, fucker."
"Oh, I would," he retorted, still able to portray concentrated intensity from behind the pages of Icha Icha. And, apparently too bored with it to continue, Hidan went off to the nearest bathroom, leaving a grinning Kakashi reading in the living room.
By the time Hidan stepped out of the bathroom, the sun had already sunk down, shedding scarlet light on the little cottage and it's inhabitants. Kakashi was still reading, his concentration now fully on the written words.
He broke it when he heard the squishing of wet footsteps on the tatami mats. Out came Hidan, hair back in all its white glory—though it was still down, and not slicked back. There was no gel after all. Water was dripping off the soft planes of his body and the clean injuries were rippling with the muscles underneath. A black towel swayed around the Akatsuki's hips, cradling the holding the limbs underneath. Hidan flipped his hair back, smoothing it back with one hand. He looked so heavenly, with his eyes closed so softly and his body glistening with the warm water from the shower. Kakashi felt his concealed face get warm, and quickly returned his attention to Icha Icha.
"Hey, shithead, where the hell do I get some clothes?"
Kakashi kept his gaze on the words of Icha Icha, though they were blurring together as his eyes unfocused with apathy. "There," he replied dryly, pointing to a folding pile of clean clothes on the table. They were standard issue prisoner clothes. Nothing special.
"What? You excpect me to wear that shit? Give me clothes not prison rags. I nearly made the Akatsuki change their stupid robes because they were so…stupid. Anyway, give me something else."
The Copy Ninja looked up from his hentai, a lazy look radiating from his face. "It's either that or you go naked. Trust me, I wouldn't stop you."
Hidan glared at the shinobi through magenta eyes, he had no choice. "Fuck you," he said in complaint, seizing the clothes and whipping them into the bathroom, coming out fully clothed in the gray shirt and pants. They were too big, obviously, and they clung to his body weirdly, his right shoulder exposed to the air. A giant number decorated the back of the outfit, stating Hidan's prisoner number. The Akatsuki looked in the mirror across from the bathroom, the look on his face said he was not pleased with the way he looked.
"So where the fuck will I sleep, shithead? The couch is covered in dry blood. There's no way in hell that you'll get me to sleep there," he complained, placing his hands on his hips and frowning.
Kakashi looked up once again. "What? Oh. Here, follow me. I don't want you trying anything."
Rolling his eyes, the Jashinist began walking behind the leaf ninja, following him down a small hallway, which split into two at the end. In one dead end was a large door, and on the other a small mirror with a table in front of it. They headed towards the door. The walls were decorated with pictures of surrounding scenery.
They reached the door. It was dark brown, with gold accents around the edges and a gold doorknob to match. "Here it is…" Kakashi said, turning the knob and opening the door-stepping aside so Hidan could enter first.
The room was simple, but not as simple as the rest of the cottage. The walls were a deep red and the hard floor was an off white. Black trimming decorated the walls, along with black and gold furnishings. One single, large black, red, and gold bed sat in the middle of the room, dominating the scene and adding a regal sense to the bedroom.
"There's only one fucking bed."
"Yeah, this wasn't really supposed to be a holding cell. I thought you would be able to figure that out."
"Well I did already figure it out, shithead! And I didn't see another bedroom—or door for that fucking matter, in this place. Where the hell are you sleeping?'
"Well, I was planning to sleep on the couch, but…you soiled it. So instead I'm just gonna keep watch in here."
The Akatsuki's eyes narrowed. "You're staying in here for the night? Well you better not fucking try anything, shithead. I sleep with my mental eye open," he warned, jabbing a finger in his temple and widening his stance.
"Sure. Don't worry I'll be sure not to 'try anything'."
Rolling his eyes again, Hidan turned heel and entered further into the flamboyant room, looking around himself with shiny eyes. "Well, now. Get out and close the door."
"Why? Just go to sleep, I'm going to be sitting on there," mused Kakashi, motioning towards a chair with big armrests and a tall back. It had little black and gold dragons flying around in the velvety red fabric. It was too small to lay down on, but fine for sit back in.
"I need to pray. Unlike the rest of this fucking world, I still care what Jashin thinks of me."
"You can pray in front of me, it's not like I'll interrupt you or anything."
Maintaining a cold glare at the shinobi, Hidan pulled out a silver strand of beads, with a circle and an upside-down triangle in the middle. It was scratched and seemed to have blood smeared on some of the beads. The hidden leaf jonin wondered how the hell Hidan was able to hold on to it, with all the hell he's been through. Kakashi stayed true to his words and sat down on the soft chair. It was firm, but he managed to lean back and cross his legs loosely. He might as well get comfortable; he would be in this chair 'till morning. He said a silent thanks to Pakkun for letting him sleep in the day before.
Meanwhile, by the bed, the zealot was standing by the bed, holding the beads near his face. Small whispers reached Kakashi, hard for even him to hear. After a bit, he pulled out Icha Icha Paradise, and settled in for the night, keeping his vision within the familiar pages. Hidan cast a suspicious glance, stowing the beads away, and ripping off the covers of the bed—clambering over the tall mattress to get in.
"Good night, princess," whispered Kakashi from behind his book, his voice a dull monotone.
"Stop calling me that, shithead."
Spotted moonlight filtered through the windows, shrouding the room with an eerie, pale light. The reds looked pink, and the golds were a mere shadow of their former selves. The silver-haired jonin let his book rest on his lap. It was somewhere around four in the morning, and he was beginning to get bored. He had gotten up to pace several times throughout the night, but his eyes were still threatening to stay shut.
Suddenly muffled noises sounded in the silence. They were coming from the giant bed, where a sleeping form of Hidan lay. Shadows covered him and most of the bed, so the shinobi stood up and crouched in the middle ground of the chair and the bed.
A stream of pastel moonlight washed over the Jashinst's face, making some sort of sparkle emerge on the pale skin. Tendrils of hair had escaped, falling down oh so softly onto the red and gold pillow. A couple had also falling on the strong outlines of Hidan's face. There was always a scowl that nearly distorted the Akatsuki's face, but not now. Not a single crease was on the expression, just a sea of ivory skin, flawless and shimmering. The eyelids were twitching slightly, but every once in a while they would stop, and a look of harmony would arrive on the features of Hidan's face.
He looked so…angelic, with the supple plane of a nose, and with lips so soft and glowing that they begged to be touched, to be stroked. For some reason, Kakashi wanted Hidan to stay this way—in eternal bliss. He didn't want anyone to scar this beautiful face—especially those idiots of a team, Team Ten. He wanted to make sure that no one, save for him of course, was allowed to caress the angel that had arrived on his doorstep. He didn't want anyone to see him; he just wanted to keep him in his arms forever…away from the cruel world. Just Kakashi and Hidan.
"Thank you….thank you, Pein….no, no, it was nothing…"
Snapping his mind back to reality, the jonin stared the now twitching form of Hidan. He was still asleep—Kakashi could feel it—but he was mumbling about some Pein.
"…no, it was easy….it…it was just a village full of bakas…" Hidan went on to say how he destroyed Konoha and all its 'fucking stupid' inhabitants. "…huh? A present? For me?….oh thank you…."
Kakashi sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. Even in his sleep, the Akatsuki was still an egotistic bastard.
And what was he thinking? Wanting him all to himself. What an idiot. What the hell was he supposed to do with a vain, immature murderer? Nothing. He was just supposed to be guarding him, and seducing a simple 'I love you' from the baka. Then Icha Icha would be all his. Just a couple more weeks…he thought, trying to count the times he's read Icha Icha paradise.
The Leaf ninja turned to look out the window, taking a seat once again and letting out another breathy sigh.