Author's Note: Alright, well the next three chapters are more or less filler. Please bear with me, they do have some merit. Also, a special thanks to everyone who's favorited, reviewed, or are currently watching me (stalkers.).

Questions: Who are the White Coats? They're pretty much your average top secret laboratory personnel, nothing outlandish.

Is Kakuzu coming? Yes, eventually.

Chapter 6: The Black Mirror

White, it was all Hidan could see and he wasn't exactly sure how long he'd been staring at it. As his bleary eyes focused, he began to notice tiny black specks mixed in with the white. Gradually, he become aware that he was looking up, ergo that had to be a ceiling and he was lying down. He wasn't in the back of the black box any more. This was good news, but it made many questions arise. Where the hell was he?

Turning his head, Hidan took in the whole room. It was white, sterile, and empty save for a black tinted mirror imbedded in one wall, a door which was undoubtedly locked, and the bed he was laying on. He was alone again, trapped in some godforsaken room, fuck.

Florescent lights flickered over the gleaming white room. They were so bright; it was almost painful to look around. Hidan blinked slowly, feeling very lethargic and sluggish. He must have been heavy sedated; he could still feel the affects of the drug on his system.

He took in a deep breath, it hurt, surprisingly. True, his throat felt raw and dry, but every time he breathed the skin over his chest felt tight. That was when it dawned on him. Hidan raised his head to look down at himself; he was whole. His entire body was back together.

Hidan's jaw dropped slightly, he hadn't been attached to his body in years, and it was an amazing feeling. He stretched his arms outward, they felt stiff and heavy, but he could move them. He flexed his fingers, made a fist and then repeated it over and over. He could move. Hidan gave a short thrilled laugh of triumph, but the short laugh caused his chest spasm in pain.

Hidan looked down at his chest, but he couldn't see it, a white shirt blocked him from spotting the cause of the itching pain. Slowly, he sat up and his back began to tremor much like his chest. His muscles weren't accustomed to moving as expected, but his skin felt as though it was being pinched.

Lifting up his shirt, Hidan looked down at his skin, only to see lines of stitching covering his stomach and chest. They intersected often, but looked neat and orderly otherwise. He ran a finger along one if the rows. They were at least a couple days old, the skin beneath was fully healed. So what's why they hurt, his body was starting to reject the clear stitches. No wonder they itched like a bitch.

He began to pick at one until it was loose enough to pull out. Hidan inspected it with a critical eye. The transparent stitches didn't feel right and it was bugging him. For some reason he thought they should look and feel different.

Hidan started to puck out the stitches he could reach one by one. He removed his shirt to get to the ones on his back, and rolled up his pants to reach the lines on his legs. The Whist Coats must have sewn him together. They must have dressed him too, that thought bothered Hidan a little.

Soon, he had a pile of slightly bloody thread on his bed. The little pin holes would soon heal, he knew this without a second thought. It just seemed natural for his body mended quickly.

Hidan scanned over the room again, his eyes landed on the onyx mirror. Cautiously, he eased his body toward the edge of the bed. Placing his feet on the cool tile, he pushed himself on his feet. He swayed dangerously for a second, but his muscles seemed to remember how to move.

He gazed at the black mirror as he walked toward it. Hidan got the odd sensation that he was being watch, but he could only see his own pale reflection. His face was familiar; it hadn't changed at all really. Hidan thought his eyes looked far too lost and old for his body, but other than that, timed hadn't touched his face.

His hair was down though. Licking his fingers, he ran them through his hair to slick it back. The sliver strand fell right back into his face.

"Fucking hair." He muttered and glared at the mirror.

He looked at his neck and he saw a line of stitching he'd missed. Surely by now his head was firmly back on. Leaning in towards to the black mirror, he began to pick at the stitches. Suddenly, as if dye were running through them, the translucent threads began to change, they became an inky black. Hidan blinked questioningly at own his reflection.

It was then he saw the hand on his shoulder. Hidan stared into the black mirror and saw to his surprise, that he was no longer alone. Beside him stood a toweringly tall man, he looked far more intimidating than the White Coats; yet Hidan knew he wouldn't harm him, couldn't harm him.

He was dressed in a long high collared cloak. A white and black covering hid his entire face, save for his eyes, his pricing green eyes. Hidan stared at him wide-eyed, the man was so familiar, but no name came to mind. Hidan knew however, that this was the same specter he'd seen by The Pit, but he looked so vivid. Hidan nearly found himself believing the man was real; he could almost feel the tan hand clutching his shoulder.

'You need to be more careful Hidan; I can't always clean up after you.'

Hidan spun around to face the strange man, but found to his disappointment, no one was there. Disturbed now, Hidan quickly looked back at the black mirror, but the image was gone, evaporated and compressed back into his own mind. Carefully, Hidan examined the stitches along his neck. They were translucent once more; the color had been bled from them.

"Who are you?" Hidan murmured, gazing at his solitary reflection.