Hey guys! I'm a few days late (big surprise x.x), regrettably, but school work was just a tad bit too much for me to handle. This chapter also got out of hand, but this time I decided to not split it. It doesn't have too much action in it, but these parts were necessary in order to get to the parts where they begin to attempt real recovery. It might be a little confusing in some places, but fear not, it was intentional. I wanted the reader to sort of understand how it feels in Kakuzu's shoes, and he's not in the best state of mind either. They might not be the most amazingly/efficiently descripted scenes, but it was the best I could do at the moment. If anyone is a bit too confused, you can always message me and I'll try to explain as best as I can. Also, sorry for any weird mistakes. Anyways, enjoy!

Cold.

It was cold.

At that very moment, it was suddenly the only thing he could feel in this space, this Void of nothingness. There had been no darkness, nor light in this place. It was not a wide, limitless expanse of space, nor an infinitesimally small, cramped box. Not silent like the barricaded chamber of a chakra-sealed jail cell, nor deafeningly loud like the roar of battle in the midst of a hurricane of war. It was not like last time when he'd been delivered to Death's doorstep before Hidan had fished him out with two hearts. It was just all a big, endless pit of nothing, unlike anything he'd ever experienced before.

He'd had no idea how long he'd been there. But from the very second he'd awoken—if such a thing could be even called that—in this abhorrent abyss, Kakuzu knew: he had fucked up, really, really, bad.

Was he existing in a world where the concept of existence itself didn't exist? If there was such thing as the afterlife, was he somehow trapped in between a dimensional shift? His head felt like it was exploding; perhaps it already had, along with his body; but no, he didn't have a body anymore, dear Lord, this needed to stop—

And then he'd felt the cold.

If making noise were possible, he would have cried out in relief, at the fact that he'd felt at least something; because if this was what Hell truly was, then he'd spend the rest of eternity cursing the way he'd lived that condemned him to this fate. It was worse than being skewered by burning stakes and skinned bit by bit by maggots and carrion crows, and though it may have only been for a few minutes at most, it had truly felt like he'd spent decades not suspended, or even floating through this horrifying thing, but simply being in a place where nothing existed and, if his seemingly emulsified brain stretched it, that almost seemed to include the concept of nothing itself.

Yes, he could scream and yell his voice hoarse if he could, so fucking relieved was he to feel the sudden shock of low temperature upon his face.

The Void was rapidly disappearing, and his senses soon returned to him one by one; first came the staggering force of a splash of water drenching his body, then the resonance of a trickling stream spilled into his ears like he was emerging from under water. The air was no longer hot and stifling, but Kakuzu was too paralyzed and stupefied to recognize the fact. It was unlike before, the slow, gradual realization where he came to bit by bit; this time, it all came back one by one like a freight train. Each breath caused the sensation of a thousand needles searing his sinuses and his mouth was burning with the reek of blood, but no, this wasn't the Void. Another round of water slapped his face and this time since he'd finally regained some sense of reign over his own physical form, he spluttered, coughing as it ran down his windpipe and setting his whole lungs aflame. But almost immediately after, there was something damp settling upon his brow and down the side of his face, wiping away the layers upon layers of old sweat and blood. Kakuzu moaned in relief, still delirious, aching, and wondering what was going on.

The wet cloth ran its course until the older man no longer felt his skin prickle from the perspiration, and when it was finished the cloth stayed there on his brow mercifully and he relished the feeling of it, even though his skin felt colder and colder as time went by. He felt a slight push at his lips and he open his mouth instinctively; cool water was poured down his throat and he gulped at it desperately, his tongue and throat screaming with relief at the soothing texture.

He didn't remember opening his eyes, but suddenly the darkness of his vision was filled with accentuated shadows and a few tiny pinpricks of light that blinked distantly above him. He could make out the shapes of towering trees that veiled most of the cloudless night sky, and drew in a painful rattle of air. In the same moment, his focus caught movement in the very corners of the frame of visibility. Unable to move his head, Kakuzu dragged his eyes down as much as he could to see what it was, and his breath caught halfway to his lungs.

Hidan was a foot away on all fours, reaching into what must be a creek that babbled cheerfully onwards. He was shivering from head to toe—as if drenched, as if he'd dived straight into the stream had it been deep enough—and his silhouette shifted as he turned around. They seemed to make eye contact, for Hidan immediately froze, the shape of his head facing directly towards the older man. No one spoke for a good minute or two, although the Jashinist was evidently struggling to form words, wrestling with the need to disrupt their silence.

Well, Kakuzu was almost grateful for the fact that he was too exhausted to even feel unnerved by Hidan's unusual muteness. He tried speaking, but was unable to utter much of anything except for a noise that sounded horrifically broken and fractured beyond repair. Suddenly the kneeling figure staggered violently as it stood up, and Kakuzu watched blearily as Hidan disappeared from his line of sight.

Three seconds later, the older man jolted as he suddenly felt the ground shift and tilt, muscles clenching instinctively in alarm. What was happening? Where did he go? The need to twist and turn his head was driving him mad, wanting to assess his current situation. In the end, he found that he could force his chin up slightly and force his eyes as far back as he could push them without making himself blind to see what was going on. What he discovered there—and they were multiple things—successfully chased away what little coherent thought he'd manage to concoct and left his mind blissfully hollow.

For starters, he was lying on some makeshift framework that was tightly woven out of strips of bark and small twigs. It acted like a stretcher, only there was no one carrying it, but rather, dragging it. Kakuzu tipped his head back as much as he could without breaking his neck to find a long cord of vines and more bark strips tied to the top of the frame, while the Jashinist had slung the other end of the rope over his shoulder, grunting and heaving as he continued along his way. Releasing a long, breathy sigh, he turned back to a more favorable position.

Somewhere deep within the multitude of memories, there still lurked the painful reminder of just how long he'd suffered alongside this abomination of a human being. It had never been one of the most pleasant records to keep track of, but he'd still made sure to mentally document just how long they'd roamed the country together sniffing out bounties and Tailed Beasts. Although as much as he'd wished for their relationship to remain strictly professional, there had been no avoiding times where they'd inevitably learn little things about one another here and there. And despite all the years he'd spent partnered with this guy, he had never picked up a single clue that Hidan possessed any other skill apart from brandishing that ridiculous weapon around. And yes, Kakuzu admitted, this whole craft, from the way it was structured to the stability of its function, was clever. Never in his strangest dreams would he have fathomed Hidan to come up with something like this. Did this mean he had other useful tricks up his sleeve? If so, why hadn't they seen any when they'd been working for Akatsuki? Or had Kakuzu just been unobservant? Too indifferent to whatever else the Jashinist did apart from when he needed to snap at him?

The only times they stopped was to pause for no less than five minutes, to take small sips from the water flask they'd filled to the brim. Hours crawled by as they fought their way through the woods, and Hidan had yet to utter a single complaint. That did not however, in any way mean that he was alright; Kakuzu could hear the way his breaths wheezed horrifically with each gasp, and whenever he thought he could catch a glimpse of the haggard complexion, he knew it wouldn't be long before he collapsed.

But to the older man's continued surprise, Hidan had always returned to his feet, even if it took more than ten minutes to maintain a safe balance. Both shoulders had been rubbed raw by the abrasion from the rope, bleeding profusely down his arms, but apart from his continuous struggle with hauling the stretcher around, Kakuzu failed to hear anything else from him.

Two nights passed since then, and now the sun had long since disappeared beyond the horizon and they'd been travelling with the feeble aid of moonlight. Hidan signified the end of their journey by tumbling to the ground, panting harshly into the darkness as he fumbled for purchase. Kakuzu listened to him gagging and choking on his tongue, the noise quickly muffled when he took a swig of the water. A hand appeared in his line of sight as the flask was passed to Kakuzu who numbly accepted it—although at this point he no longer registered the incessant burn of thirst in his throat—unable to respond in some way to this individual who had not spoken a single word ever since he'd regained consciousness. Not that Kakuzu hadn't tried; when he wasn't drifting in and out of his strange, almost comatose states as he battled against his diminished stamina, he had finally regained the ability to speak more than two words and he most definitely tried to engage in some sort of conversation, if only to make sure Hidan hadn't actually gone mute. None of his attempts had been successful, and right now, the notion of having woken up in another universe didn't seem so far-fetched, especially after having suffered in that hellish Void for however long it was.

They did make a fire, although the Jashinist chose to lower himself down on the farthest side of the little clearing he'd made for the night. He lay close to a pile of dry branches and leaves, tossing in a handful every once in a while.

"I can walk," Kakuzu offered when Hidan threw in the next batch of twigs into the fire that had been burning for hours now. Even from seven feet away—and with one arm thrown over most of his face so that Kakuzu could barely see him—he could still tell how the shadows accentuated his malnourished features upon his entire figure; the cloak he wore was suddenly entirely too big on him, and the feet that peeked out of the bottom were black and yellow with bruises.

The Jashinist huffed air out of his nose, not bothering to look away from the blinding flames. "No you can't," he replied, flat and to the point. Kakuzu, who had been certain that he wouldn't be getting a response, regarded him with mild surprise. Hearing Hidan's voice after so long felt almost surreal.

"I can try," said Kakuzu slowly once he's recovered, despite knowing that he wouldn't last; he doesn't know why he's pressing the matter when they're both aware of the fact. The idiot is obviously happy with pulling the sled, so why should he argue with that.

Hidan chuckles then, and Kakuzu clenches his jaw at the dismal sound, having difficulty just listening to it. "Sure, old man." He finally moves his arm to sneer and it's all teeth, like a skeleton smiling its ugly grin. "I'm not falling for one of your tricks again." It was suddenly much colder than he'd remembered, despite the fire being five feet away.

Kakuzu turned away, unable to look at that face for a moment longer.

A part of him sincerely wants to ask Hidan: 'why haven't you killed me yet?'. He was utterly useless, powerless at the given moment, and would not be able to guide them to shelter and safety like he had this whole time. Surely the Jashinist knew this much. He must have known this. Plus, the man had been presented with more than enough opportunities to sacrifice his two hearts, run to the station, and live a new life. So why had he been so stubborn from the very beginning of it all?

Well, of all the things that they'd argued about for being so different from one another, when it came to obstinacy they were one and whole. So perhaps for the exact same reason Kakuzu had pushed onwards when all else seemed to fail, Hidan was risking everything he had left for something that might never even come true.

Two sides of the same coin, Kisame had once said to him during the first few weeks of his new partnership with the Jashinist. Kakuzu had wanted to laugh in his face, that he knew nothing about the zealot or himself, and that if Hidan were anything like him then they wouldn't be at such odds with each other. Oh yes, in the beginning Kakuzu had even been degraded to ripping out his own hair from the new level of sheer rage that Hidan had awoken inside him. Perhaps in reality, he had not been in the most rational mindset as he would have liked to have been, either. Now as he reflected back on it, Kisame's words had held some truth.

So hopelessly caught up in his restless storm of thoughts, he didn't notice how the Jashinist never shut his eyes to sleep, and only stared lifelessly into the fire as if hypnotized by every crackle and hiss of the dying light.

~*o*~

They continued eastwards at first light; Kakuzu awoke to the sound of scraping; he blinked back into consciousness to realize they were on the move again. Last night's sleep had been mostly untroubled and dreamless, and today his migraine had been pleasantly reduced to a deep, dull throb; if that wasn't a blessing in itself he didn't know what was. Finally able to ignore the pain, he was able to assess his surroundings with a refreshed state of mind. The trees were definitely thinning by now; they were reaching the end of the forest, and thus the station would be very close. Kakuzu quickly ran through the calculations and hoped they would reach it by nightfall tomorrow, if not the day after that.

He raised his hands in front of his face and clenched his fists; still somewhat there was his physical strength. He probed deep inside of his chakra system for any sign of life; and yes indeed, it was present as well, but useable? Unlikely. If he could have just one of those damned chakra pills...

His joints and muscles were stiff from both disuse and overuse, but hell, he could think clearly. Something which he'd taken for granted before and hadn't realized until now what a crucial part it had to do with retaining his sanity. Every once in a while he would cough at the dryness of his throat, which would send him reeling back with a groan at the sheer lightheadedness the action would bring. He refrained from drinking from the flask as much as he could, because after all, Hidan looked like he needed it more than him.

Speaking of Hidan, Kakuzu was never able to see much of him during the day. Mostly due to the fact that he was dragging the stretcher in the front, but also because the Jashinist had most definitely been avoiding his gaze as much as he could whenever they came close to one another during their breaks. The older man only caught glimpses of his face at the most, and even then it was hard to make out details because his vision was still slightly blurred from exhaustion and the lingering sickness.

The next evening, when Kakuzu found himself dozing off in the rapidly cooling breeze as he nursed his aching temples, a sharp cry tumbled out of Hidan's mouth which was the first thing he'd said that sounded the closest to the man he'd known since they'd first encountered each other. The tension in the rope disappeared altogether, and the older man grunted as he hit the ground rather harshly and his skull collided with the dirt.

"Here," Hidan moaned from ahead, and Kakuzu twisted to confirm that he indeed saw the familiar dome-like structure of what looked like an abandoned construction site, but which really housed the checkpoint for the bounty hunters roaming within the area. "It's here..." His feet got tangled and he collapsed forward, but still continued to crawl towards the station like it was the very beacon of hope. Clenching his teeth to fight the inevitable dizziness, Kakuzu decided to test his limits and awkwardly clambered to his feet, dragging both the stretcher and himself after the Jashinist.

The door was manufactured with twelve inches of steel, and with both men throwing everything they had at it, they barely managed a crack wide enough to squeeze through. Layers upon layers of dust erupted when they set foot inside the establishment; crates, metal pipes, wooden panels lay scattered about the floor, and the tempered glass windows shattered with its fragments sprayed across their path like deadly crystals.

Knowing exactly what to do, Kakuzu shoved past the Jashinist then, almost falling to the ground and steadying himself just in time. Clutching the walls for support, he made a beeline to the very back of the room. There he found a small, empty picture frame hanging precariously in the top left corner. He ripped it off, not bothering with where it landed. Behind it was a rectangular cavity, and he reached in to grab a lever which he pulled. The entire building groaned and creaked, gears shifting as the cement floor splintered and fractured, revealing the outline of a trap door. With Hidan's help, they heaved and shoved the piece of cement out of the way, and were met with the real wooden floor. Kakuzu grabbed the iron ring and pulled it open, where a long, steep set of stairs awaited them to lead the path into darkness. He landed hard on his bottom to catch his breath as he stared at the gaping entrance.

"C'mon," he muttered. He'd have to get down by sitting; there was no possible way he was going to descend these on his feet. He made it down three steps, only to discover he wasn't being followed. Turning in aggravation, he hissed, "Move it!"

"No," was all the Jashinist gave as a reply, and Kakuzu snarled, his vision already swimming madly from moving around so much. "Can't—"

"What do you mean, 'can't'? We've come all the way here for this!"

"I—" It was too dark to see much, but the older man could still discern the way Hidan's eyes bulged as he ogled at the gaping mouth of the trap door, and the way the blackness seemed to swallow the staircase as it led to the bounty station. He seemed transfixed, almost afraid. "I—can't go in there," he choked, and there was a hasty rustling noise as if he was turning around. "I can't go in there," he repeated again, almost to himself, and sounding most undoubtedly not sane.

Kakuzu lunged forward and grabbed Hidan's heel before he could escape. He growled as fireworks exploded before his eyes; if he continued to go on like this, his nose was definitely going to start bleeding again. "You aren't going anywhere," he managed once he made sure he wasn't going to pass out entirely, "but here. You're coming with me, or you're gonna stay put 'till I come back."

"No!" Hidan froze, and stared at him as if he'd just noticed him there. "You can't leave me here!" His eyes were glinting eerily in the darkness, like some sort of beast.

"Then what do you want?"

"I—" Hidan paused, clearly wracking his brain for a response while the other man waited impatiently. "I'll come," he concluded shakily, though every inch of his body screamed reluctance. Kakuzu forced himself to forget that and concentrate on what was ahead; they needed to get down there, and get out as fast as they could. He knew of the booby traps that some people would set to old bounty stations and such; he'd no idea what to expect as he hadn't been here for a long time. If they inadvertently triggered something that would signal guards lying in wait to show up, they were finished.

He'd only come across this station a few times before, mostly due to the fact that the collectors here weren't as lenient as the others, only accepting bodies of prices no higher than one hundred thousand, which had been hardly enough for Kakuzu's standards. It mattered no longer, though, because by the smell of it, those guys were long dead. There was barely any light to guide them, the electricity having been cut out for months. Thankfully the layout wasn't overly complicated, and it wasn't too difficult to locate the main office, where the cases of bills would be stacked behind locked doors.

Back in the days, Kakuzu had made sure to memorize each and every single code of the vaults that the stations held, watching discreetly as the men fumbled with their locks, trying and unsuccessfully hiding the passwords from him. He quickly punched in a series of numbers, guessing right on the fifth try and the hatch clicked open. There were two cases sitting untouched, and one was nearly empty while the other indeed held his cash from one of his own catches. Kakuzu collected every last bit of the currency into the single case and staggered out, nearly crashing straight into Hidan who'd been hovering much closer than he'd expected. The older man glared, although it wouldn't have been seen. Without speaking, the two of them clambered back up the stairs, wanting to escape the dank building that reeked of mold and decay.

By the time they'd emerged into the fresh air of the night, Kakuzu felt like his chest would explode from the pressure. His hearts thumped madly against his ribs as he groaned and slipped down to his hands and knees, and felt the familiar trickle of blood dripping out of his nose again.

While all sense of rationality told him that they should keep moving, there was no way they'd be able to do that without dying or worse. After a long pause in which Kakuzu attempted to staunch the bleeding, he eventually relented to stay near the back of the building until the morning light arrived.

They dragged themselves over to a small nook with a precariously overhanging roof; Hidan, who'd been avoiding him all this time until now, was suddenly clinging incessantly close to his personal space as Kakuzu settled against the building. He only noticed this when he felt the shock of a freezing hand to his forearm, and out of pure instinctual habit, lashed out at whomever was responsible for the physical contact. Hidan cried out as his weight was shoved backwards and toppled over the crumbling remains of a separated concrete wall, colliding into the dirt with a loud 'smack'. But just before he did so the Jashinist's flailing elbow had scored across the older man's chin, and Kakuzu had actually blacked out for a few seconds after that. When he'd blinked back into awareness it was to a torturous headache making its comeback and a wailing Hidan, who was rocking back and forth clutching his leg in a vice-like grip.

Such a sight was just barely enough for Kakuzu to forego the clutching of his head and find out what was wrong. It took a bit of a struggle to get Hidan to unravel, and he had to pause to catch his breath three times, and damn it how did the Jashinist still have so much strength in his limbs. Or perhaps a better explanation was that he was the one lacking in strength, but what did that matter now. When he finally succeeded, Kakuzu definitely felt his stomach plummeting in a sickening way.

The tendons in Hidan's right calf were literally ripping apart, and he could see how the skin tore away, sinewy flesh flapping uselessly every time he moved. To make matters worse, both of the Jashinist's wrists were swollen and black, and a finger pressed gingerly to them told him immediately that at least one was on the verge of being dislocated. For a minute, Kakuzu was rendered speechless; to say he was horrified was an understatement.

Something had gone terribly awry along the way. How on earth had he managed it this far without a single complaint? The question must have been evident in his eyes, because Hidan merely bared his teeth and jerked away from his touch. But Kakuzu was having none of that, because now that he was paying more attention, he suddenly realized something else about the man that caused his throat to constrict to extremities.

They were now sitting closer than they'd ever had during the entirety of their trek from the onsen to here, and it was the first time Kakuzu had gotten the chance to really look at Hidan without the fog of delirium or pain. And fuck, he looked like hell. It was cruelly evident that he hadn't slept for a long time; now that the older man really thought about it, he hadn't recalled actually witnessing Hidan sleeping in the inn either, only assumed he was. His eyes, once a vibrant hue of violet, were now sunken and deathlike. Smudges of black stained the bags underneath them, and—was that cut on his ear... decaying? Beneath the single, tattered cloak, almost every rib was visible, and...

"W—what's wrong with you?" Kakuzu spat shakily, without thinking, and before he could stop himself. It hadn't been the best thing to say of course; who would even say that to a man who looked, literally, like he was on the verge of death? And it wasn't like him to have so little control over his own voice. He'd definitely sounded like a stranger to his own ears right there, but damn it all; it wasn't right. Hidan was immortal, and yet he couldn't help but feel an irrational stab of panic at the sight of him. Why?

Because the Jashinist was not looking much different than when he'd first dug him out of that hole, rotting and disintegrating. After everything they did, it had somehow managed to turn out worse.

"I'll tell you what's fucking wrong with me," Hidan was croaking, shivering violently despite the fire. "It's you. You fucking happened. It's all your fault, you asshole—"

Of course. Kakuzu had brought him back to the world of the living, patched him up, only to rip him apart all over again in every other way. He was the one technically in charge, and yet he'd gone and got himself killed almost twice in the process, leaving nobody but Hidan to clean up after the mess that he'd created.

But if Hidan had discovered a newfound hatred for the older man's incompetency, he'd never spoken of it. Sure, it was evident in every way he held himself together, but something was stopping the words in his throat. Kakuzu didn't know whether to be angry or relieved, or how to feel much in general. The shock was quickly taking over, and it felt as if he were watching himself from afar, detached from his own body.

A long time ago he'd done stuff to fix similar injuries for the man. Yes, the threads... The chakra he'd been saving up during his long resting periods on the stretcher allowed just enough for him to gather three pieces and carefully sew the flesh back together as efficiently as possible, without wasting stitches. After, he cautiously took one of the Jashinist's wrists in hand, assessed its alignment, before jerking it back into place with a satisfying 'snap', ripping a sharp yelp out of a startled Hidan.

There was nothing else he could do. How pitiful.

Kakuzu had no will to go out searching for fire material—he was still extremely stiff from lying in the stretcher for so long, and his legs seemed to have trouble remembering the feel of holding his own weight up—so he simply sat in the gloom of darkness while the Jashinist whimpered and groaned softly beside him. Without thinking, he began to reach over to where Hidan must be lying, but stopped just short of actually placing his palm over an arm or leg. Growling angrily at his own stupidity, Kakuzu whipped his hand back and clutched the metal case to himself instead. What had he tried to do? Comfort him? Give him a pat and tell him that everything was going to be alright? The older man quietly simmered in his fury, tightening his grip around the briefcase in an almost petulant manner.

There had to be an end to this seemingly endless cycle. Every time he patched up a wound, another would form. He'd patch that one up too, but his efforts would be proven useless again and again.

One day, when he could push himself no more, when he truly took his last breath once and for all: that would be the end of this cycle. Such a notion... he loved it. He hated it. He wanted it and hoped it could happen right this moment, and he wished a day that like would never happen for the rest of eternity. He wanted Hidan to die. He did not want Hidan to die, or never open his eyes again, or never hear his voice again. He wanted Hidan to live. He wanted to scream and yell at the Jashinist until his voice was hoarse and his fist was sore from punching that face and punching the wall and anything else he could reach. He wanted to hear the idiot's repulsively obnoxious laughter as he brutally slaughtered Kakuzu's enemies into oblivion.

He wanted... he had always wanted so many things. A cruel, selfish, heartless old man they called him, and they had been right, had always been right.

He couldn't afford to lose his sanity here. Not when they had finally gotten their hands on this. Kakuzu searched and searched his brain for what they could do next. Where they could go next. He thought until he could think no more, until his nose began sluggishly bleeding again. He would not give in to sleep, no matter how much his drained system screamed for it. He traced the outlines of the map, the one which had been engraved into his mind, and pondered over all the locations they could potentially slip into without raising too much suspicion. While a majority of cities were overridden by shinobi, there were still a handful that had yet to rely on chakra-based skills as their main resource. Were towns too much of a far shot? Well, this entire experience had been a fucking country field's throw at best, so why not.

"What have I left to lose," Kakuzu found himself whispering out loud to no one in particular, for no reason at all; Hidan made no move to indicate he'd heard, the shape of his body still and lifeless as if he'd turned to stone.

But oh, that voice reminded him mockingly once again, at the same time, he had everything left to lose.

I forgot to mention this in the previous chapter's A/Ns, but I now have a tumblr! I make posts about chapter statuses for this story plus I upload some of my own Hidan & Kakuzu fanart on there as well. If you wish to see some updates on the story progress, or some of my silly fan art, please follow or visit my blog prussianknight9. Those without accounts, feel free to message me there as well. Even if you don't have a tumblr, you can still send me messages as "anonymous".

Like? Love? Hate? Please tell me what you think; your reviews will be greatly appreciated! :)