Authoress' Note: Only one more edited chapter to go… ^^; Still don't own the rights…

Hiatus' are relaxing and stressful at the same time…

Chapter 6

Kakuzu was a hypocritical man. And whether he was aware of being such or not, he despised when people told him so. Because the things that made him a hypocrite were the things that he hated the most in others, in life. Because his hypocrisies were the traits shared with Hidan, and this was something he wished not to accept.

Though Kakuzu was not immortal, he was indeed everlasting, vulnerable yet durable. He, like Hidan, refused to die. He had lived for almost an entire century now, and fought to keep his life with all of his being. His need for control applied to all others besides himself. He knew what that made him, how this refuted all of his hatred for Hidan. All of it was unfair, foolish, and pointless. Cruel, to despise a man for something beyond his control, for possessing something that you had to fight to keep.

That was why it was so much easier for Kakuzu to hate Hidan, to treat him like it was his own fault for being the way that he was. It was easier to have that killing intent, to fight with him the way that he did. To treat Hidan like a fool that knew nothing, that was inferior to everything Kakuzu possessed.

It was easier to the man who had lost his original heart years ago, who had forgotten how to care when he was a child, to simply neglect. And Pain had ruined all of these plans, simply by telling him to pretend. By telling him to be something he was not. Now, Kakuzu just wanted it to go back to how it used to be. It was easier to forget that it had ever happened.

And if that was the only solution, so be it then. He had done it once, he could do it again; he was not beyond turning against his own side. Only one thing stood in the way of it this time, that hadn't been there before. But time was money, and Kakuzu had none to waste on trying to figure it out.

The grains of sand were already falling through the hourglass, counting it all down. And that which was left was completely undetermined, that which was coming seen only as approaching. It was all they could see with their blinded eyes, blocked only by themselves from what they didn't want to admit.


At ten-o-clock in the morning, Kakuzu was awake. He did not even have to look at the clock to know that he had awoken later than he usually did. All it took for him to tell was the light hitting his eyes, beaming in through the window. The other sign was Hidan sitting at the side of his armchair, fiddling with the rope attached to his scythes. He had found it, most likely shortly after waking up. And Hidan usually woke up an hour after Kakuzu. Yet there he was, wide awake, and hair down, freshly washed and dripping, not yet slicked back. In other words, Kakuzu had overslept by at least two hours. A look at the oven clock confirmed it at three.

Cursing, Kakuzu rolled out of his makeshift bed, giving a tired groan. Every inch of him felt overworked and sore, and his body felt like it hadn't had any rest, not even a wink of sleep. Hidan, on the other hand, looked even worse, like he'd been run through the wringer. Kakuzu tried not to look directly at him too often as he got up, stretching himself out, trying to wake himself up, but Hidan's eyes wandered, following him the entire way.

"You slept pretty fuckin' late." He muttered under his breath, continuing to fiddle with his scythe. Kakuzu still gave no response, no sign of recognition. He did not want to have this conversation, did not want to talk with Hidan, with Pein, with anyone. Letting Hidan's comment hang awkwardly in the air, he went to the fridge, searching for whatever was left. There was barely enough for one sandwich, and Hidan's half-eaten dango. Kakuzu pulled it all out, dumping it onto the counter, and threw whatever had gone bad away. Hidan shuffled towards him, leaning across onto the kitchen islet, staring at the other with a slightly mournful glance. "You gonna make me my fuckin' breakfast?"

"I'm busy." growled Kakuzu, spooning what was left of the mayonnaise into the last piece of bread, constructing some sort of open-faced sandwich. Hidan shrank away from him by a tiny bit, quieting again. Finally, with a curious reach, he snatched at the dango, pulling it from its box and nibbling on it meekly. As Kakuzu finished making his own meal, he left the other piece of bread lying there, and what little condiments remained. It took a couple moments of staring at it before Hidan took the hint and began making his own sandwich in Kakuzu's style. He seemed uncomfortable about it, unadjusted to this way of independence, of being unable to depend upon Kakuzu for help.

Better to forget those times had ever happened, Kakuzu reminded himself. Better for things to be the way they used to be. With a stubborn sense of sticking to the idea, Kakuzu began arranging and packing things into his and Hidan's bags, in a fashion of order and systematic control. And of course, Hidan seemed as unstable as ever, as he stared at Kakuzu, scythe in hand, looking ready to pounce. Yet the fact that he didn't was what revealed that Hidan was not following Kakuzu's example of forgetting. He needed too many questions answered, questions Kakuzu was still not going to answer, no matter how much the other man asked. Hidan would just have to learn this lesson the hard way.

"Are we leaving soon?" Hidan eventually abandoned constructing a sandwich, munching only on the rubbery lunch meat from its bag, and biting into the leftover hunk of cheese. He dumped everything else into the garbage, and eyed Kakuzu pleadingly as he continued eating. "'kuzu?" Again, that damn pet name. Kakuzu grit his teeth, trying to ignore it, trying not to let it carry him back to the incidents of last night. "We need to leave by eleven." He instructed coldly. "I would prefer to leave by ten in one hour. Of course, this all depends on whether or not you're able to move your lazy ass."

A small frown suddenly adorned the other man's face, just short of the scowl that was so usual of him. The sides of it twitched further downward, steadily becoming more a look of confusion, at anger over such. Kakuzu was beginning to see this zealot's pattern of hating that which he could give no explanation for. But that did not mean Kakuzu was willing to try and understand it. Again, he was too busy trying not to think back to last night. Back to that look on Hidan's face as he pleaded for answers he could not have, tried his best to understand. And he, as a religious man, hated that which did not dawn some inkling of understanding upon him. So why was that hatred not in his eyes now…?

"What the fuck is up with you?" That voice was too soft to be Hidan's, but just bitter enough to be recognizable. A whining undertone that was characteristic, almost expected of the martyr. There was nothing false about this, not like the trick he'd done earlier (which Kakuzu reminded himself between gritted teeth to forget). This was genuine. This actually was Hidan, in all of his feeling that he always released all at once. And again, it was terribly unlike him, because these emotions he was showing right now were too limited and focused. Confusion engulfed Kakuzu over it; never a good sign. Just as Hidan hated that which he could not comprehend, perplexion caused Kakuzu's anger to boil. A chain reaction, befitting of the sadomasochistic duo, with an advantage for neither of any form.

As Kakuzu resisted in giving an answer, the reaction was plain enough in Hidan. Something tugged at him from within, making him give some sort of impatient whine, to give a strange habitual tug at his scythe, a shake, up, then down. Something about it only irked Kakuzu more. "What?" he asked coldly, his eyes boring into Hidan, turning the tables as he became the one demanding the answers. Hidan was taken aback by the sudden switch. He pulled away slightly, bringing his scythe in front of himself defensively. At this moment, he was refusing to think the worst, refusing to believe that denial that shone in Kakuzu's eyes. He did not understand it, and thus would not allow himself to acknowledge it. To acknowledge it would be like accepting another power; the word of a heathen.

No, that simply, would not do, Hidan's mind told him rushedly, posing itself as logical sense. Never take the word of a heretic. Don't listen to his lies, don't believe those eyes. No, no, no, no –

This mantra was familiar, Hidan realized. He could remember hearing it many times before. And every time, it only seemed an echo of the day the War ended. Did it ever stop, would it ever? No, he could not even remember anything else other than that, other than the screams of the suffering, the temporary drowning out of this insanity with a mere, temporary replacement. A peal of maniacal laughter, a chuckling mockery, screaming cackles. When did the denial stop, if ever?

(No no no no no…)

Hidan was back in his own body, and those eyes still burned into him impatiently. He faltered before coming out of his defensive pose, trying his best to come out of this stupor. Fuck, this wasn't like him. He meekly encouraged some wave of emotion to engulf him, or possibly Jashin-sama himself. For who else could help him besides his God? Nothing else, nonononono, nothing else in the entire world.

So why did he feel this obsessive need to deny everything in Kakuzu's eyes, a need to believe something else? He wanted to tell himself that it was because he would be happy if he did. But to say that would be like saying Jashin-sama was not enough. And if he was ready to put Jashin-sama as second to anything else, he might as well give up this religion of his. Hidan, however, was sure he would die if he did this. His religion was everything to him, because in this material life, he had nothing. He had no strife of War to live by, and so many limitations to the natural cycle of life and death. Death, to society, was a forbidden, regrettable thing, had become something evil and dark.

No, no, Hidan could not survive in a world like that. He could not survive in the world that had always been Kakuzu's territory, a forbidden piece of unknown land to Hidan and his God. And it only perplexed Hidan more that he had this sudden need, this urge to remain in it. Not even those words could really describe it, either. It was more than that it was… it was… a requirement, something that would make this hollow feeling go away. Yes, Hidan had just begun to realize it now; he hadn't had that feeling this entire remainder of the week, hadn't had that strange emptiness in him since the second day, before all this had started. Not until now, when he looked into those cold eyes, that burned like dry ice to the core of his being. The only question now was…

"Why?" The word came out hoarsely, and it seemed to take him a minute to realize he had even said it at all. It was an improper response to the last thing Kakuzu had said, a question answering another question. Yet it was the only thing the zealot seemed currently able to say aloud. Kakuzu glared at him, scoffed at him, mocked his very attempt at life, at speech, at anything. That was what this man did, how he always treated Hidan. And Hidan wanted to know, why. Was it really the wrong thing to ask, when one looked at it the right way? Hidan did not believe so. But he needed more words so to properly ask. "Why the fuck are you doing this? Why the hell have you done ANY of this?" It was the most he could come up with. It sounded like him, and yet it didn't. The voice had too much agony and sadness mixed in with its anger. He stilled his shaking grip on his scythe, tried his best to at least appear calm. It was harder than it sounded, when both Hidan and his religion, his life, depended on finding ways to express how he felt, so he did not have to hold them in, deal with their pain. Hidan was evasive, true, but so was Kakuzu, if the subject in question held no profit for him. Just as he was doing now, as he turned away, seemingly intent upon not answering Hidan's questions. He hadn't done it last night either, Hidan remembered vaguely. Or had last night been a dream? A nightmare? The fading scars on his thigh were his only proof. Shaking, avoiding mentioning that, Hidan pulled Kakuzu by his shoulder, forcing him to face him again. "Why the fuck are you being such an ass about this, about leaving all of a sudden?!"

Now he almost wished hadn't asked, hadn't pushed it. Not now that Kakuzu's rage in his eyes had grown greatly, as his rough hand twisted Hidan's off of his shoulder, pushing the young man roughly away before releasing him. "Because I can't stand another minute of this headache!" he hissed, almost spat, and the words whipped at Hidan, cracking him as he gave a miniscule flinch, a twitch. "And I think you've made yourself enough of a burden now. Stop what you are doing, Hidan, or I swear, I will hurt you more than I ever have before!"

There was a stagnant silence in the air, as Kakuzu quieted, still winded, fuming. The blaze of temper only halted between the two, as Hidan froze, even his breath seeming to still in his throat. The expression on Hidan's face was shaken, wide-eyed, and, Kakuzu would even dare to say, heartbreaking. As he stared into it, he kept his mouth shut, his tongue bit back so that he would say nothing else, would not rip apart the man in front of him, and would not, COULD NOT, remember last night. At this point, yes, Kakuzu was still filled with a rage, but he did not know at whose fault that was. But just as it was easier to forget all of this and cause Hidan the trouble he did, it was easier to pin the blame upon the immortal. It was Hidan's fault that this had happened to him; that he felt like this. Hidan's fault, not his. Only his burden. This was an easier thing to convince himself of – the burden. The word that was echoing between the two of them now, making Hidan have that look on his face. It was time to end the feeling of intimacy, the feeling of obligation. It was time for Kakuzu to truly forget all of this.

Before Kakuzu could turn away as he intended to, the staring contest was ended, and abruptly. Swinging his scythe – his shield out to the side, Hidan took even Kakuzu by surprise, smashing a small decorative vase. His face suddenly twisted and contorted with rage. Kakuzu drew back instead of away, readying himself to use his ninjutsu at any minute, to guard against Hidan. But Hidan's scythe lay still now, buried halfway into the wall, his hands keeping a stiff grip on the rope. "A BURDEN?" he snarled, almost disbelievingly. "A FUCKING BURDEN? IS THAT WHAT THIS WHOLE DAMN WEEKEND WAS TO YOU?!"

"What do you want me to say, Hidan?" Kakuzu said coldly. "That I ENJOYED pampering a brat like you? That I enjoyed all the trouble you put me through?"

"Fff-FUCK YOU!" Hidan tripped over the words, slurring, pulling on the rope to his scythe. His body trembled slightly, putting his aim off a bit, swinging it just above Kakuzu's head. Kakuzu heard the blades slicing into air, into sound, hitting the kitchen cabinet with a solid thud. Hidan was past discussion, Kakuzu did not have to use his acquired 'other sense' to tell that. This was an endless cycle that went nowhere, as Kakuzu's anger would abate, only to flow into Hidan, eventually growing and spreading to both. The usual pattern; just how things used to be.

( then why didn't it feel right…?)

Grabbing the handle, Kakuzu held the scythe steady, preventing it from being used any further. Hidan resisted for a minute or so, yanking so fiercely that Kakuzu could FEEL the welts developing on the other man's hands, the rope burns scratching at them. Finally throwing down the rope, Hidan resorted to his own hands, smashing the lamp. Anger almost fully invoked now, again, Kakuzu acted to prevent Hidan from destroying yet another hotel room. He whisked out the strange, thread-like appendages that snaked from his body, roping Hidan with them, and restraining him. Like a wild animal that had been jolted by a disturbance in its environment, Hidan spun quickly round, yanking roughly at the bondages and jerking Kakuzu himself a few inches forward. "Let me fuckin' go!" he howled, a tortured noise, a sound like he was dying without his freedom to move around. Or perhaps it wasn't the absence of freedom that bothered him so much as the act of being bonded in itself. The pull on his body made Kakuzu wince, feeling how desperate this man was to escape. A part of him wanted to let him loose, just in interest of what he would do. The consequences, however, he was sure would not be favorable. He could, of course, try talking Hidan out of this, what little good THAT ever did. Always worth a try, he supposed, with gritted teeth. That is, if he could even get the right words out to catch Hidan's attention.

"Will you stop bitching and thrashing and HOLD STILL already?" snarled Kakuzu, tightening his tendril's grip. One of Hidan's screams was cut short with a choke. There, that worked. "Are we listening now?" he asked coldly. Hidan shot a trembling glare, lips curled back in a bestial look of anger, a growl. He was listening, barely. Unfortunately, one never fully listens when they do not want to listen. Still, at least he was quiet. Knowing Hidan, however, that would not last long. "We need to get home, and soon. I would prefer if I don't get chewed out by Pain-sama for returning alone."

"Fuck you!" Again, Hidan's classic reply. Kakuzu heaved a sigh, weary of the man's repetitious vocabulary. Responding uncouthly, Hidan spat at Kakuzu. "Let go of me, you fuckin' bastard!" he said, voice quivering. "I don't wanna be fuckin' near you and your ugly face another fuckin' second!"

"Then where are you going to go, Hidan?" droned Kakuzu, already bored with this routine that was once so familiar. It made him feel old, a feeling he did not enjoy, merely because that's what he actually WAS. "We're partners, whether we like it or not. You can't get far from me."

"THEN AT LEAST LET ME DO MY DAMN RITUAL IN PEACE!" bellowed the man, face flushing in his wrath. Kakuzu could hear doors slamming open, people coming out to investigate the noise. "CAN I FUCKIN' DO JUST THAT RIGHT NOW, 'MOM'?!"

"Witty, Hidan," growled Kakuzu. "Did you spend the whole week thinking of that?"

That shut the man up, as he clenched his teeth down onto his lip, shaking, trying to think of something to say in response. Hidan knew that wit was not his forte, as did Kakuzu. Eventually, however, after a minute of consideration, he released his lip, blood pouring down his chin from the crushed flap of skin. "Let me fuckin' go." His voice had gone back to a hush. Kakuzu continued holding onto him tentatively, hesitant to let go, until Hidan screamed out, almost desperately, "FOR FUCK'S SAKE, KAKUZU, I'M FUCKIN' SUFFOCATING LIKE THIS!" The hot blood that dripped down his chin sprayed onto Kakuzu's face, with a thin amount of spittle, and he could feel Hidan thrashing and pulling again. At last, feeling too tired to continue this, he released Hidan from the point where he was restrained, a few inches from the ground. The zealot fell solidly back onto his feet with an unceremonious thud. Stumbling a bit, Hidan sorted his senses back out, his stare glazing over again as he shoved past Kakuzu to grab hold of his scythe again. Neither said anything else to each other, only trying their best to avoid eye contact, to avoid any speech with each other. Once retaking hold of his weapon, Hidan exited quickly, fiddling nervously with the door handle before being able to open it. Kakuzu slammed the door after him, and finally released what he had been holding back – a scream of frustration, while his fist smashed into the table, splintering the wood around the area of impact. With a shaking stance, he braced himself, holding himself up. As he took deep breaths, he could feel the presence of someone approaching closer, could hear them slowly sneaking to his side.

"You're supposed to head back soon." A pause, as if they were mulling over what they had just said. Finally, "In other words, why the hell did you just chase off your partner?"

"How long have you been here?" muttered Kakuzu, his fingers combing through his hair, composing his appearance, but hiding some of his face from view. Zetsu looked a bit uncomfortable in response, or at least it appeared that way to Kakuzu, though emotions were not usually a visible thing on the ex-Grass Nin's face. His golden eyes blinked a few times before he answered.

"Pain-sama's had me pop in and out the whole week. He wanted to make sure you did what you were asked. And for the record, we didn't watch. We didn't think it was appropriate. That, and we didn't think it an appealing idea."

"Shut up!" snarled Kakuzu, swatting at the man, ignoring the glint of anger in his right eye that also held hunger. Instead, he continued bending over onto the table, his fingers raking through his black hair, massaging gently over his scalp. "Just… I don't want to remember that, I don't' want to hear about it. Don't even mention it. I'll get Hidan; I'll drag him back if I need to. Tell Pain we'll be back soon, and I'll be expecting my payoff as soon as I get back."

"But how can you get your money," Zetsu began cautiously, daringly. After a moment's hesitation, his other side finished for him mockingly, "for something that never happened, you say?"

As soon as Kakuzu's head snapped to look at the Ex-Grass Nin, Zetsu sunk down into the floor. "I'll deliver the message for you." he murmured respectfully before disappearing. Kakuzu took one last swipe at his head just as it disappeared, missing it by inches. After that, he paced, forcing himself to calm, to think. And yet, he knew it was past the point where that was possible. Just as there was no possible way to REALLY act as if nothing happened with Hidan to the other man's face.

But oh, he would still certainly try…


The sun was a fading light in the sky, dimmed by the clouds. It was going to rain. It broke over the shadows of memories of the night, which were treated as if they'd never existed. There was a chill running through Hidan's blood, a quiet cold in his body. He was dying, he thought. He was dying an immortal's death. He was dizzy from the cold, from the fatigue, from the blood loss, from the wounds within that healed like they were never there.

The bed had been made, the sheets cleaned. Hidan's hair was still slick and wet from the shower. His skin smelt clean, the texture was soft. The wound on his wrist was healing. He moved where he lay on the dirt, to slick his hair back, but he stopped. He had just cleaned himself, he reminded himself. He did not want to dirty himself again. Not with his blood that no longer seemed a part of only himself. He wanted to feel clean. He wanted to feel safe. He wanted to feel something besides this.

It was too quiet. Hidan gave an edgy glance at his surroundings, getting up and stumbling from the midst of the trees surrounding him. He was not entirely sure where he had run to, only that he had run away until he could see the inn no more, until he tripped over, falling back into the earth, the ground scratching at his milk-white skin. Then, crying to the skies, crying to his God, he had let everything out. He needed acceptance, needed forgiveness. But he could not find it out here, could not find it back there. There was no trace of it in this self-sacrifice. So where to find it…?

Hidan's thoughts were interrupted as he heard a rustling of leaves, a stir of movement. His head snapped to look at the source, to find who had broken the sanctity of his ritual, had intruded upon his circle. Only a wide-eyed man, who shivered at the sight of the blood pouring from the albino's wrist. Hidan stared into his eyes, watched him back away, and saw it in the dilated pupils, saw the inner chorus of his thoughts: "monster".

With a swing of his scythe, an animalistic scream, Hidan killed him, the blood dirtying the man's skin more. Almost in desperation, with little actual thought to what he was doing, Hidan sunk his hands into the pierced skin, through the wounds, letting the other's blood coat his own hands. He smeared the blood over the cuts in his wrists, wanting it to sink in, wanting to integrate with this other man's blood, this clean, sacrificed blood with his. And as soon as he convinced himself he could, a smile of temporary content came over his face. He hugged onto himself, his own blood let out, his body filled with that of the cleansed. This would heal him… this would save him.

And so, the Enlightenment began; the edge he had been driven to.

~End Chapter 6~