"Bad news?" Seiichi echoed; brows furrowed. "What bad news?"

Sasori glanced around briefly, moving closer to the bed before Seiichi reeled back, hands up in defense; eyes sharp and threatening.

"Back the fuck up," Seiichi growled lowly.

Sasori scoffed, pausing mid-step, "We don't have time for this. Clearly, I came back. If I had other shit in mind, if I wanted you dead- I would have killed you long ago instead of sticking my fucking neck out to get you out of there."

Seiichi shook his head, scowling deeply, "That doesn't mean shit to me. You're a criminal."

Sasori rolled his eyes, "You don't even have the strength to fight me off."

"I'll fight you with my last fuckin' breath," Seiichi remarked, lowering his hands and settling them in his lap. "Now, what's the bad news?"

"Hidan is on his way to the Yakuza as we speak."

Seiichi started, "He's fucking what?"

Sakura was in a daze.

She was lost.

Confused.

Heartbroken.

Her entire world shattered into a billion pieces, clattered across the floor; she was stepping on glass, tip-toeing through trauma and pain.

How could this happen?
Why was this happening?

She couldn't help but think of what they could possibly be doing to her father right now. She couldn't help but hear that man's haunting laughter; see that crazed gleam in his eyes. Her heart squeezed painfully in her chest at the thought that there was nothing she could do to help.

She was useless.

Sakura wished she could be strong; for her mother, for Naruto, Kakashi. She wished she could pull herself together and look at the bright side that the police were already on it—but she simply couldn't. What was going to happen to her father?

Was he going to be tortured, too?

Was he going to be mocked, too?

Humiliated?
Degraded?

Were they going to strip him of everything, break him down in the worst way possible?

Or, were they going to simply kill him?

Sakura knew these men were sick. She knew it could go either way.

Was this really her father's fate?

"We've got to stop him," Seiichi commanded, grunting as he jerked the IV out of his arm and began to pluck off the other devices. "We've got to stop him from reaching the Yakuza—it's the only way."

Sasori shook his head, "You and what army, Agent? You're in no fucking condition to do anything, let alone stop-"

Seiichi's head shot up, eyes burning, "I failed Sakura by waiting. I am not going to fail her or her father again."

"Then what do you suggest we do, hmm?" Sasori pressed, his expression irritated. "Because, as far as I know, Hidan was calling for back up."

"That's why we stop him, before he shows up," Seiichi replied easily, slowly moving his legs over the edge of the bed and biting back a hiss. "If we can get him on his way and apprehend him before he even reaches the Akatsuki, then we'd avoid back up and the Yakuza."

Sasori shook his head, "With what weapons? I'm not strapped, and neither are you. We show up, Hidan will put a bullet in that rich man's head—and yours."

"As far as Hidan knows, you're still an Akatsuki member—correct?"

"So far."

Seiichi nodded, standing on his feet and gripping the side of the bed, "So, then we use that to our advantage. I want you to call Hidan and tell him you need a ride."

Brows quirked skeptically, "A ride?"

"You heard me—a ride. He needs back up, right? I'm sure he'd find the time to scoop you up. Have him meet us somewhere—I know Kizashi will be in the car with him. You distract Hidan while I sneak Kizashi out of the car. Once I've got him to safety, we'll attack Hidan and apprehend him."

"Attack with what, Agent? You can barely walk, let alone-"

"Don't worry about me," Seiichi shot back. "Have Hidan exit the car somehow- I don't really care how you do it or what you say, just as long as he's out of the car so I can get Kizashi."

Sasori scoffed, "How do you know you should trust me, hmm? What if I betray you? I am a criminal, after all. Furthermore, what are you going to do with Kizashi? Tuck him away in a corner until we get Hidan? Take Hidan's car to the Agency where Solo is waiting? Your plan has holes in it."

Seiichi chuckled bitterly, beginning to strip himself of the hospital robe and pull down his shirt that was folded neatly beside the bed, "Then your wish to pay for your crimes won't be granted—will it?" Seiichi shook his head, "Listen, I refuse to let Hidan go through with this. I can hide Kizashi down an alley, behind a car—somewhere. As for Solo—you're my leverage. You know everything there is to know—your words will bring that fuck down."

Seiichi was bluffing.

He wasn't sure if he could trust this fuck at all.
He wasn't sure if the plan would work.
He wasn't sure if his body was ready to carry him all the way.

But what he was sure of, was that he couldn't wait any longer.

He couldn't sit and twiddle his thumbs; he couldn't call an agent to help—not as long as Solo was in office. He couldn't rely on Shadow—the ball was in his court. He was making a high-risk decision that could cost him multiple lives.

But gods damn it all, this was his Hail Mary.

This was his one and only shot to get Hidan- the fucking head of the Akatsuki—while avoiding the Yakuza. The odds were stacked against him and time was running out.

What choice did he have?

"So," Seiichi began, buttoning his pants and wincing, "what's it going to be? Can I trust you, or are you planning on stabbing me in the back like the Akatsuki trash you are?"

Sasori paused, shaking his head and sighing, "Alright, Agent. Have it your way. But if you die, your blood is not on my hands. Understand that?"

Seiichi shrugged, "I don't give a fuck. Now—call Hidan."

There's a lot of things he's seen in his age.

He's watched good men crumble under the slightest amount of pressure. He's watched poor men scrape every last penny they had to build towards a better future—to overcome and succeed. He's watched tall buildings get blown to bits during demolitions; he's watched Sakura blossoms flutter in the breeze, overwhelming the cityscape. He's seen a million different scenes, thousands of sets of eyes; yet, all he ever saw before him was twin emerald sets. He fell in love with one; he loved her so much he'd pull the moon closer to the earth if it meant her happiness. He made the other, a piece of him that he would take a bullet for in an instant.

And now, with nothing but darkness surrounding him, eyes blind; with his hands and his feet tied, his body beat and bruised—he knew.

Odds were, a bullet was exactly what he was going to take.

Kizashi had little regrets—if any. As a matter of fact, he prided himself on making decisions with the same assuredness it took to run a successful business. Yet, as he struggled from one ragged breath to the next, regret weighed heavy on his heart.

He wanted nothing more than to see his girls. To kiss their cheeks, to hold their hands; to hear them laugh, to share a meal with them, to be in their space—taking up their time. He wanted nothing more than to express his unending love for them, to hug them forever and never let them go. To protect them. To lift them up and encourage them. He wanted to kiss his wife, he wanted to hold his daughter.

Yet, the hiss of pain he let out behind the gag was his fatal reminder that he'd never see them again.

Though Kizashi kept his mouth shut the entire time, this was his biggest regret.

That he'd never see his girls again.

Sasori surprised himself by swallowing the lump in his throat. Nothing made the red-haired man nervous—but he was nervous.

He stood at the back of the hospital, watching as Seiichi leaned against the concrete wall, clutching his side. The pair managed to escape the hospital thanks to Seiichi's being an agent—and even then it was a close call.

Seiichi jerked his chin, "Alright. We're outside, just like you asked. Can you fucking call him? We don't have time."

Sasori dug in his pocket for his phone, finding Hidan's contact and dialing; peering at Seiichi from the side while the phone rang. Several rings passed before it picked up—noise like wind blaring in the back ground, Hidan's loud shout booming over the white noise.

"SAS-OR-I! Where the fuck are you? Did Deidara call you?"

Sasori cleared his throat, "I was taking care of that agent. Yes, he did."

"Agent? Did he die?"

"Yes. Deidara didn't tell you?"

A grunt, "No. Deidara is supposed to be on his way—and so are you. Do you understand what's at stake? We don't have time for you to fuck off, Sasori. This is the big leagues. We've got to come on strong, we cannot be intimidated by these men because they are just that—men."

"About that," Sasori began, "I don't have a ride."

Hidan let out an annoyed scoff, "What the fuck are you talking about? How did you get rid of the fuckin' body then, huh? You drag it all across Japan, you fuckin' idiot?"

Sasori forced a yawn, "I ditched the car with the body because your agent bled all over it. Do you expect me to clean it? That's not my job."

Hidan growled, "You're a pain in my fucking ass, Sasori—that's what the fuck you are. You fuckers don't know your asshole from a hole in the ground, I can't rely on you for shit."

"The agent is dead, is he not?"

"Sure- he was pretty much dead, I don't give a shit. Now, I have to talk to Solo to make sure that the dead fucking agent and the car with our fucking prints doesn't get linked to us. Biggest fucking mistake in the book. You're lucky I've got shit going on, or I'd pop a bullet in your ass."

"You need me," Sasori rebutted, seemingly bored.

Hidan snorted, "The fuck I do."

"You need back up, right? Surely it can't be just you and all of them?"

There was a brief pause, before Hidan let out a short scream, shouting into the phone, "YOU FUCKERS THINK YOU CAN TALK TO ME HOWEVER THE FUCK YOU WANT."

"Are you going to pick me up?" Sasori pressed, ignoring what Hidan did so often.

Another shout, a string of swear words before his voice was pressed hard against the receiver, "Fucking fine. I'll pick you up—but rest assured when this shit is said and done, you and I are going to have a little chat. Where the fuck are you?"

Sasori's eyes scoped the area, replying, "I can meet you at the four corners."

Hidan snarled, "I'll be there in ten."

The line ended and Sasori pocketed his phone, turning to face the agent, "We need to get a taxi. We've got ten minutes to be at the four corners before Hidan gets there."

Seiichi's brow ticked, "What's the four corners?"

"A bad part of Japan, an empty square out in a field where four abandoned buildings meet. A lot of crime goes on over there, it's where we take most men to kill them."

"You're fucking disgusting," Seiichi spat, peeling himself off of the wall and stepping forward, still clutching his side.

Sasori gazed up at the afternoon sun, humming, "I know I am, Agent."

The four corners were a place just outside of Tokyo, urban and abandoned. It wasn't a wonder this place was used for crime.

It wasn't a fucking wonder.

The taxi driver apprehensively agreed to take them there, driving faster than most, and essentially kicking them out of the car before peeling out of the abandoned parking lot. Seiichi peered around, finding that the only acceptable place he could hide out was around the corner of the far right building—to which he turned to Sasori and remarked, "Move closer, that way Hidan will pull up over here and I have quicker access to the car."

Sasori gave a curt nod, eyes scanning the area and marching past Seiichi to the wall of the right building; picking up what looked like to be a metal pipe. He tossed it towards Seiichi, who caught it deftly.

"A weapon," Sasori remarked, jerking his chin. "You'll need it. I'll talk to Hidan, distract him while you get Kizshi. Once you're done and you're ready, I'll give you a signal to strike."

"What signal?" Seiichi pressed, weighing the metal pipe in his hand; thanking invisible gods he asked for more pain pills from the nurse before leaving.

Sasori hummed, "I'll say, 'should we go.'"

"You say that, and I attack," Seiichi replied, tone sharp. "You're not going to double cross me, are you?"

Sasori surprised Seiichi by chuckling, "Agent. Look how fucking far we've come. It's as I've said before—if I wanted you dead, I would have killed you. I hate wasting my time."

Seiichi nodded, scowling at the man, "Alright, well...If I get even an inkling you're going to betray me, I will attack you."

Sasori offered a grin, "I would expect nothing less from you."

"Don't get cheeky with me," Seiichi bit, backing away to take cover behind the building.

Sasori suspired heavily, "Agent, I'm spending my last moments as a free man helping you arrest a man ever sicker than myself. Pardon me for wanting a chuckle."

Seiichi chose not to respond, instead opting to crouch and peer around the corner; eyes keen as he watched Sasori play mildly on his phone, his stomach doing flips. He could feel his hands sweat, his heart thunder, and his mind whirl. Not five minutes came and went before a beat up Sedan pulled into the parking lot—a man with slicked back black hair parking close to Sasori.

This was it.

This was Seiichi's one and only shot at not saving a life, but redemption.

Hidan stepped out of the car, arms wide out on either side and smiling, "Sasori! Are you ready to take on the Ya-ku-za!?"

Sasori quirked a brow, "You were upset with me. What's with the smile?"

Hidan tossed his head back and laughed, "I can't be mad—not when everything is going according to plan. The Yakuza have no idea we're on the way. This is perfect. We take them by surprise, show initiative. That old fuck will see we mean business and keep us in the game—just long enough for me to formulate a plan to off him."

Sasori was talking, but Seiichi stopped listening. Keen eyes were watching, waiting for Hidan to move forward; crouched, sneaking across the back of the car with pipe in hand.

"Don't fucking question me," Hidan's voice bit. "Don't you ever fucking question me. I know what the fuck I'm doing, Sasori. I AM the Akatsuki. I made this group. I led us to where we need to be."

Seiichi glanced over briefly at Sasori, whose eyes remained sharp on Hidan's ranting features. He was only ten feet away from the car, Sasori asking another question and Seiichi using that opportunity to quickly move across; resting against the tail end of the car, looking over his shoulder to make sure Hidan was still focused on Sasori.

His heart was a loud pulse in his ears. His hands were sweating so much the pipe had started to slip.

Not wasting time, Seiichi moved to the right back door, raising himself slightly to peer in; cursing when he found the back seat empty. He turned, waving his hand at Sasori and shaking his head.

"Do you have the rich man with you?" Sasori asked, cutting off Hidan and pretending to peer back at the car.

"That fuck?" Hidan spluttered, taking the bait. "Of fucking course, I have him. He's our meal ticket."

Seiichi quickly hid back behind the car when Hidan began to turn, calling over his shoulder, "As a matter of fact, let's check on daddy-o why don't we?!"

Swearing, Seiichi clambered to crawl under the car; wheezing, puffs of dirt billowing up on his sweating face. He watched feet walk to the trunk that was unlocked, Hidan's boisterous laugher echoing along the empty space.

"Wake up, you rich fuck!" Hidan hollered, dragging Kizashi out of the trunk and tossing his body onto the floor.

Seiichi struggled to glance over his shoulder, barely able to catch sight of Kizashi's body and two sets of feet. There was a groan behind him, followed with muffled talking and more of Hidan's crazed laughter.

"Look at him, look at this fucking guy," Hidan chuckled. "This fuck has been a pain-in-my-ass!"

On cue, Seiichi heard it. The sound of a body being hit—or kicked, he was sure—punctuating each word. More groaning was emit, followed by muffled coughing and ragged wheezing.

Hidan continued, "I hate this fucking guy." More kicking, more groaning, more coughing.

Seiichi tightened his grip around the pipe, feeling rage swell in his chest. He had no idea what the fuck he was doing, but he knew as much...

He couldn't fucking wait anymore.

Ignoring the pain in his body, Seiichi wasted no more time listening to the awful noise of Kizashi being kicked. Instead, he moved; sliding out from under the car and leaping to his feet, twirling around with pipe in hand.

Hidan blinked once before glancing over at Sasori, "What the fuck is-"

Seiichi swag, hissing in pain at the action and stumbling forward; missing Hidan completely. Seiichi quickly regained himself, moving to swing again when Hidan brandished a gun; cocking it and pointing it directly at Seiichi's head. Seiichi froze, pipe held overhead, breathing heavily.

"Sasori," Hidan began, dead and cold. "Who the fuck is this?"

"I don't know," Sasori replied coolly with a subtle shake of his head.

Hidan turned to face Sasori slowly, gun still pointed at Seiichi, "You don't know? Are you sure? Because this guy sure does look fuckin' familiar to me."

Sasori blinked.

"You didn't get rid of the fuckin' body, did you? You-"

As quick as lightening, Sasori jut his elbow out sharply; butting Hidan's nose with it, causing him to lower the gun and cradle his face with a curse. Sasori struck again, jabbing his elbow in the back of the man's head twice before shoving him to the floor. Seiichi moved in, swinging the pipe and landing it hard across the man's back several times before Sasori flipped him over; Seiichi punching Hidan in the face twice before he kicked the man in the gut, spitting on the floor next to him. Hidan rolled, struggling to reach for the gun that had fallen to the left of the men. Seiichi brought the pipe down hard, crushing the man's hand with metal before kicking the gun even further away. Hidan hollered, now cradling his broken hand and spitting blood.

"You fucking betrayed me," Hidan bit, glaring up at Sasori who stood over him.

"Handle him," Seiichi commanded, running to Kizashi's side where the man was now completely motionless.

It was with trembling hands that Seiichi began to remove the gag and blindfold from Kizashi's head; with shaking fingers untying the rope around his wrists and ankles. Kizashi's face was bruised and battered, dried blood around his mouth and nose; a noticeable gash on top of his head. Seiichi shook the man desperately, glancing briefly in Hidan's direction before turning his attention back to the motionless man before him.

"Kizashi, I need you to wake up," Seiichi shook him even harder, patting his face and lifting him in the upright position; leaning his body against the back of the car. He placed two fingers on Kizashi's neck, feeling a faint pulse. "Kizashi, sir—wake up."

"It's no use," Hidan called, chuckling. "He's got so many drugs in his system that if he doesn't bleed out and die, the drugs will kill him eventually. He's as drugged up as his precious little baby girl was. Except, I liked to keep her a little awake, just enough to-"

Seiichi moved.

With surmounting rage he moved, charging for the man on the ground; crouching over him and pummeling him with twin fists repeatedly. Blood splattered across Seiichi's perfect features, blood splattered across his shirt, and onto the concrete below them. Hidan's face was unreadable, covered in blood—and still, when Seiichi paused, the fucker managed a weak wheeze of a laugh.

"Leave him," Sasori hummed lowly, placing a hand on Seiichi's shoulder. "He's not going anywhere."

Seiichi jerked his shoulder out of Sasori's hold, moving to his feet and spitting on the ground next to Hidan once more, muttering, "You're under arrest."

"Is he alive?" Sasori asked, following Seiichi to where Kizashi was.

"Barely," Seiichi remarked. "We need to call an ambulance."

Seiichi watched Sasori dig in his pocket for his phone.

Seiichi watched Sasori hold out his device.

Seiichi heard the pop.

Seiichi watched the phone clatter to the ground.

Seiichi watched Sasori's own eyes cast down to the sudden hole in his chest; the sputter of blood that began to trinkle down like a small stream, Sasori falling to his knees.

Hidan's broken laughter filled the air, "Ha-ha ha! You...You're fucked..."

Seiichi stood to his feet, eyes widening at the sight of Hidan wielding the gun with his other hand still prone on the concrete, grinning with blood leaking into the cracks of his teeth. Laughing, maniacal and sickening. Hidan had the gun pointed at Seiichi weakly, chuckling up blood.

"You...can't have...both of us...Agent..." Hidan gurgled, laughing as he turned the gun and pointed it at his own skull. Brows crumpled, black eyes soulless as he screamed, "YOU CAN'T HAVE ANY OF US!"

"NO!" Seiichi barked, freezing when Hidan pulled the trigger.

Blood splattered in V-formation across the concrete.
Hidan's body stilled in an instant.
Birds in the trees cawed loudly, wings lifting them in black masses over the scene.

Silence filled the air, then.

There was nothing but silence.

There's a lot of things he's seen in his age.

Being witness to one man dying before him and the other ending his own life was a first.

Kizashi gazed into the eyes of the young man before him; eyes that appeared to be full of fear and pain.

He looked no younger than Sakura.

Kizashi managed to drag himself to the boy's side, placing his hand over the boy's and humming brokenly, "It'll be okay, son." Tears welled in Kizashi's eyes, spilling over and splattering across smooth skin.

"You'll be okay."