do your worst and your best.

ye be warned:

pirates prosecuted here.

(I started this chapter in September and now it's January? oh god I started croc farm when I was fourteen or fifteen and now i'm seventeen THE YEARS, THEY ARE GONE.)

FFFFF i forgot to say this : thank you so much to my glorious beta, DICTOIONARY INK, whose stories deserve a thorough stalking by every one of you.

x

(so, um, konan and kakuzu decided to resist the plot. but then, when genma finally showed up, he kicked their asses into plot-submission. and that's my excuse for not updating … ?

{when i say they resisted the plot, i make it sound like this chapter actually advances the plot, O HOHOHO lies.}

{i promise i know they're not real.}

chapter eight's half done already.

i hate this chapter so much. 3

chapter seven.

konan.

around nine o'clock in the morning, Tuesday.

(another simul!chapter)

I guess I must've fallen asleep while I was trying to call everyone and make sure that everyone was okay — they weren't, oh fuck but they weren't — because when I wake up it's like nine'o'seven and I'm stretched out on the hallway floor. My parents must've just stepped over me on their way to work — do they know about the crash? Did I tell them? I can't remember, and that's just only slightly scary because, because I remember everything else that happened last night with the kind of clarity that lets you remember exactly what you were doing during the disaster when you were six years old, even though it's eleven years later, and —

The floor's cold, and the air conditioning is on too high.

I guess that happens.

The light on the answering machine — yeah, we still have one of those — is blinking faintly. I can see it from where I'm lying in the hallway out of the very corner of my eye, and I'm considering getting up to check the messages. They're probably from Itachi — the school — Deidara's dad — someone important.

That doesn't mean that I can really make myself get up and pick up the receiver.

Sometimes you just can't.

So I sit there, and kind of watch the light blink on my answering machines, and then some time has to pass, because time's always doing that — because after a while, I hear this really harsh set of knocks against my front door, and they're the kind of knocks you can't ignore.

Not like an inconspicuous little blinking light.

When I get up and answer the door — it takes me a good seven minutes — Kakuzu's the one standing on the other side. He's got this scowl on his face like what the hell, Konan, which I personally think is out of place, but, you know.

His facial expressions are his choice.

"Come on. We're going to the cave," he says, reaching out to tug at my wrist.

I'm in sweatpants and a Kuck Fonoha t-shirt, and my eyes are definitely red from crying, and why the hell would I want to go back to the cave, anyway? That's the last place I saw Deidara before he —

That's the last place I saw Pein and Tobi before they ended up in the hospital, I mean.

So, what I say is "No."

What Kakuzu says is "Yes, get in the damn car, it's idling."

So maybe it's because he's wasting gas while we argue, or maybe it's because I'm too tired and stressed to keep arguing, or maybe because I kind of want to see if the place has monumentally changed since yesterday, but I give him a tight little nod and stumble down the steps after him.

The door to the house might end up locked — I don't know, and I don't think to check until we're both in the car and Kakuzu has been driving (so, so slowly) for about ten minutes, so it goes unchecked. My parents probably won't care, will they, if something goes missing from the house?

Oh — maybe they will.

Whatever.

Kakuzu keeps driving, slow, and we don't talk about anything, until we get to the parking lot. Suddenly, he slams his foot onto the gas and peels into the parking spot he was in yesterday like it's the last two feet of some NASCAR race, and we leave my heart, stomach, and throat somewhere behind us.

"Holy fuck Kakuzu !"

"Calm down," he mutters. "Some dick would've stolen it if I didn't — speed up."

There's no one else in the parking lot — it's nine a.m. on a goddamn Tuesday —but I let that go, because, okay, he's the driver and he's coping with this all too, right?

I hope he didn't drive like that on the way to my house —

I don't have time to ask him, though — not like I really would — because he gets out of the car and slams the door.

Following is just about the only thing I can think of to do — he seems suddenly pissed and all kinds of edgy, but what am I going to do about that?

Some people numb themselves. Some people pretend nothing happened.

Some people are Kakuzu, and they do shit their own way.

We walk together — me in sweats and messy hair, red eyes; he in jeans and a wrinkled t-shirt, darkened eyes — along the paths until we get to the bridge. There really is no one else here; this is a popular place for families to come, and since all the kids should be in school, we're left to an empty park.

Well, not an empty park — the rangers are still here, because that's sort of their job.

"I almost thought the rest of the guys would be here," Kakuzu says quietly, quietly enough that at first I'm not sure he's really talking to me. "I tried to call Hidan this morning around seven, but he wouldn't pick up the phone."

"I had to call his landline to get a hold of him. And Pein, Zetsu, and Tobi are in the hospital. That just leaves…that just leaves Kisame, Itachi, and Sasori, and do you really think they'd come out here?" I ask him, hands shoved down deep into the pockets of my sweatpants. It's too warm for these pants.

I want to go down deeper into the park and the caves, down where it's dark and cool and maybe I can hide for a while —

(And, oh my god, that shouldn't leave just three.)

He shrugs, and I guess he's about to answer, when we hear this voice yelling from across the path.

"I thought I told you goddamn kids to stay out of the damn park!"

The ranger from yesterday — Genma, that was his name — is walking towards us with a fierce scowl on his face and a black bandanna tied around his forehead. I blink.

Kakuzu stiffens and glares.

"For god's sake —"

"You said we had to leave. Not that we couldn't come back," I say quickly. "We're not - we're not here to cause trouble. This is just —"

I flounder.

Kakuzu steps in, all brash and bristly and pissed as hell. "Our best friend just fucking died, you asshole. Fuck off."

Genma doesn't fuck off. Instead, he raises an eyebrow and gives each of us long looks.

"One of the kids from yesterday?"

I nod. "The blonde boy who fell in the water."

Genma's mouth opens a fraction, like he's going to say something, but then he snaps it shut again.

Probably a good idea.

"What happened?" He asks slowly, hands slipping into his pockets and long toothpick bobbing between his teeth.

"Car accident." Kakuzu says, still glowering at Genma. "Four other friends were hurt, so lay the hell off!"

Genma's lip curls just slightly. "Sorry for your loss."

Kakuzu doesn't answer, just turns to stalk off in some other direction, and I'm about to follow him — what the hell else am I gonna do? — when Genma yells out at us again.

"Wait! Hold up."

I hold up. Kakuzu does after a second and a loud, hissed sigh.

"I told you kids yesterday that someone died last week in the park, right."

Genma doesn't phrase it like a question. I vaguely remember and nod. Kakuzu doesn't react.

"That guy was one of my best friends. A ranger, actually. A couple of guys from out of town got into a fight near the Devil's Pool, and when Hayate — my friend — when he went to break it up and kick them out, he lost his footing and ended up in the water," Genma says slowly, flatly, not looking at either of us. "We didn't get him out in time. You — you were lucky, when your redheaded friend pulled the blonde out of the water over on the other side of the park. I was planning on telling you that when I saw you brats next anyway. But —"

He flounders.

Seems like everyone's doing that nowadays.

"— but I guess you weren't so lucky after all."