Chapter two : Unstuck

Disclaimer: this story contains mention of suicide and I encourage you not to read if you find yourself depressed. If you need help please reach out to someone or call a suicide prevention hotline.

"Okay, so, stop me if you've heard this one, an ex-harlot, a priest and a banker walk into a bar," Sika snickered as she just that, walking though the pub door Kakuzu had opened before it closed on Hidan, causing her to snicker again.

"After that stunt you pulled last night you ain't in a good spot to joke," Hidan grunted, cracking his neck, "first I had to sleep in that chair and then on the ground, and then-"

"Stop complaining," Kakuzu commanded, seating himself at the bar, a little more grumpy than usual without his morning coffee. Hidan and Sika mocked him and the accountant ordered them a cheep and simple breakfast.

The jashinist dug in without so much as another word while Kakuzu gave his a second to cool, looking over his black book while he blew on his hot coffee. Sika watched them before her eyes drifted to her own plate. A fork and knife were wrapped up together in the napkin, and unfolding it to look over her eating utensils, the knife fell out onto the table and sent the fork tumbling to the floor.

The waitress smiled at her and told her she'd get another, but Sika was fixated on the knife. It was like a gun went off in her head, the sight of the knife was enough to send her into a fit.

She grabbed the it as quickly as she could and before either of her companions could react, she'd slit her left wrist.

And impossible amount of blood spilt from her vein, she'd slit up, fallowing the main artery. It ran in long tendrils down her arms until it dripped onto her thighs, then further down her shapely legs.

"Fuckin' shit," the jashinist gasped, mouth full of food. He slapped the knife out of her hand faster than the banker could snake thread out of his hand to stitch the wound shut. The waitress, who has been getting some food for a table behind them stood an awe.

"Go clean her up," Kakuzu growled, and then turning to face the waitress, "what the fuck are you looking at?"

Hidan did as he was asked, picking the girl up and throwing her over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes and hauled her off to the bar's single bathroom. When he set her down she was shaking like a leaf and angry, but her lips were sealed tight.

That was fine with Hidan, he didn't want to argue with her.

He wet a paper towel and handed it to her, but she wouldnt take it. She wanted blood staining her skin, because maybe for once such a long time it would remind her that she felt something. Sighing, he hoisted her up on the sink and started on her legs. Kakuzu would have a fit if he let her out of here all bloody.

"You know, you really shouldn't do that. Suicide is pretty much a one way ticket to hell," he nagged.

"And why not? Why don't you just let me go to hell?" She spat, crossing her arms only to have her left yanked away by the jashinist.

"Because. Now hold still," he grumbled, "seriously, you gotta lay off."

"I'm not laying off anything. I want to die and nothing is going to change that. I tried to get rid of you guys but you just brought me back, so now this is your problem," she hissed, trying to kick him, but he was faster, catching her foot and twisting it.

"You know if you fallowed Jashinisum," he started, but she cut him off.

"What the fuck is this Jashinisum? Just what the fuck is it already?" She interjected, refusing to give in to the pain he was bringing her.

"I already told you, Jashin is the God of death. I worship though shared pain, I take lives in her name. I want you to convert," he urged but she wasn't listening.

"Fuck off!" She shouted. He ignored her.

"Whatever pain your in, you won't be in long with Jashin," he assured, having finished with her, and left the bathroom. She fallowed suite not far behind him and breakfast went off without another hitch or any more knives. They got on the road after paying. Sika bringing up the back of the pack, but the men still watched her like a hawk.

They reached a port by afternoon and secured a ride back to the main land via a shady friend if Kakuzu's and settled down in a pub for dinner and some quiet time. Quiet time didn't last though.

"Look, all I'm saying is that if you'd convert now, the sin you carry wouldnt weigh as heavy on you. You gotta repent that shit as fast as you can," the Jashinist drawled, pointing his fork at her lazily with food in his mouth.

"Shut up," Kakuzu ordered and Sika echoed him. Hidan rolled his eyes.

"Whatever," he said flatly, shoving the table over so he could stand up. He left the pub, leaving his vegetables untouched. Sika volunteered to eat them.

"I'm glad he don't eat all his food," she laughed as the banker pushed a bowl of mashed potatoes her way, she hadn't eaten this well since her father had been around. Feeling something coil around her wrist, preventing her from moving her fork, and looking down, she found his threads, the ones she'd seen not 24 hours ago kill a man, insnaring her arm.

"What's this?" She asked as they severed themselves from his body only to wrap around her other arm.

"Can't have you offing yourself just yet can we?" he grunted. He had meant it in a business sense but she mistook it for genuine concern. Dinner didn't last much longer. It was time to board the boat under the cover of night but Hidan was nowhere to be found.

"He'll catch up," Kakuzu assured as he boarded the ship, implying they could just leave him. Sika was a little hesitant, wouldn't he be mad? But they didn't have to worry, Hidan showed up in the nick of time, covered in blood with a stab wound on his chest. Or maybe it was though his chest, Sika couldn't tell.

They weren't even out of the harbor yet and the captain was sending everyone below deck. Why Sika didn't know, but after seeing the cargo, she didn't question it. Large sacks of something that smelled very peculiar lined the lower deck. When she asked she was hushed and then warned not to go near it, implying that it was not only dangerous but illegal.

This place set her nerves on edge. Of course she'd be protected by her traveling partners, but that didn't stop the sleezy crew from eyeing her up. The ninja paid this no mind, they were to protect her to her destination, not baby sit her. The more Sika analyzed the situation, the more she realized that these Akatsuki were not at all what the article in ninja monthly had made them up to be. The magazine had called them visionaries, men working together to make a better world, but it was becoming clear that was just to cover up the organized crime.

"Isn't there anyplace else we can hang around?" The tawny haired girl asked, shifting from one foot to the other.

"No, go sit down," Kakuzu grunted, pulling out his little black book and a pencil. Sika looked over at Hidan who rolled his eyes. He made a hand motion, jutting his thumb to the left. Behind a half stacked pallet of the white bags, Sika could see a hall way on the other side of the room. At first she furrowed her eyebrows and looked back at him, but he made a face and nodded his head a little. He was bored out of his mind already and looking for some kind of trouble to get into.

"Hidan, stop it," Kakuzu commanded, "you two aren't about to be running amuck around this ship."

"I have to go to the bathroom!" Sika chirped and the banker narrowed his eyes. Hidan jumped up, volunteering to show her the way, and the two sped off just as fast as they could down the hall way was an empty mess hall and Hidan commandeered its table and it's bowl of fruit. Sika snatched up an apple and started eating, desperate to make up for lost calories over the past few years.

He observed her from across the table and she grinned back at him in sort of a childish way. Hidan focused most of his energy into murder and bitching, and stabbing himself so when she realized he was reaching out particularly to her, it was worrying. Kakuzu had already warned him not to hurt her but Sika wondered if that was enough.

"You hurting yourself, is that part of your religion?" She asked, throwing her core away. He grunted in agreeance.

"It's a prayer ritual," he replied, trying, and failing, to sound cool.

"What happened to sharing pain? Doesn't it hurt?" She questioned.

"It hurts like a bitch!" He laughed, "I share the pain with lord Jashin, but I also share my life. I do what he asks and I stay immortal."

"No kidding?" Sika raised her eyebrows in disbelief. He didn't say anything more.

"Oh, no way, you have to tell me more, you can't just leave it at that," she urged, getting up to switch table sides and sit next to him on the edge of her chair. He really had her intrigued now.

"What do you want to know?" He replied, but she just shrugged, looking eager and interested.

"Okay, okay. So on top of the self inflicted wounds, I make sacrifices, and I think I've already told ya that. Plus we got commandments, rules, just like every other religion."

"So, if you have to share pleasure too, then you can't like, masturbate?" She asked, catching him off guard.

"What the fuck kind of question is that?" He spat, clearly offended but she wasn't fazed. Though, after considering the source, he wasn't sure why he was surprised.

"What are the rules?" She went on, ignoring him and his objections. He began rattling them off like they were in a book in front of him.

"One, pain and pleasure will never be kept to oneself, two, if blood will be spilled it will be spilled in the name of lord Jashin and no soul will be left battered, that means half dead and covers suicide, three, two people will never have sex with intent to make a child, four, a person is never to offer themselves for any reason for profit, including selling themselves, and five," he said, pausing for effect, "a person of the faith must obey all ritual and prayer traditions and hold the way of Jashin as their only path."

"Just five things and you get to be immortal? That's way too good to be true," she accused, grabbing another apple. He watched her thin lips enclose on it and he saw a flash of her teeth as she but in to it, a tiny trickle of juice running down her chin. Something about her was off.

"Every Jashinist fallows the same rules, but sometimes there's one that is a little better, that's me," he sneered arrogantly, "I'm the only immortal. I invented it."

Sika understood perfectly what he was saying. Boasting or not, he was pretty clever. As silence fell over them, she couldn't help but notice him and his wandering eyes. He wasn't looking at her breasts, he couldn't have been since she'd found a t-shirt in her bag earlier and covered up, but he was looking at something. Her neck she decided, and the veins that ran though it, the bruise, but then to her surprise his eyes looked away to study something else on her person. A stray freckle, a wrinkle on her sleeve, almost like she was under a microscope.

"What?" She asked, crossing her arms and scooting back away from him. He chuckled.

"You tell me," he smirked. Silently he supposed whatever it was that was bothering him about her was a sign, what kind he didn't know.

"Hey," a gruff voice came, Kakuzu emerging from the hallway, "your trip to the bathroom has been a little long."

Hidan's mood visibly fell and he groaned, leaning back in his own chair to glare at his partner in irritation. The banker threw himself down across from Hidan and reached for an apple just as the younger two had before him.

"We're headed to grass country as is, but I have to take a detour. If you wouldnt have ran off last night when we got the hotel room, Hidan," the banker snapped, "we wouldn't have to."

"I had an obligation!" The jashinist retorted, "my religion comes before the Akatsuki!"

Kakuzu didn't want to hear it and choose not to continue the conversation. The rest of the night was small talk and little sleep due to the rocking of the ship. Sika was used to it, so when they got off the boat the next morning, she was ready to go, but her traveling companions were less thrilled than usual. The irritated tension between the partners seemed to fade away though, the farther into the afternoon it became. Hidan wasn't nearly as chatty, preferring to stay silent and observe despite his original idiot impression on her.

Kakuzu's detour took them down along the cost and then to a small port town they reached by late afternoon. Kakuzu was after a bounty, something Sika didn't know he went after regularly, but it didn't surprise her. They ate dinner, which ended up being a cup of soup and a half a sandwich before the pair of mercenaries decided to lock her up in a hotel room for the rest of the night.

Sika seated herself on the bed, which she assumed she'd have to herself that night and observed the two in front of her getting ready to head out to collect the head Kakuzu was after. Apparently they'd been chasing this person for a while now.

"Kakuzu I don't wanna go," Hidan complained, sluggishly trudging around the room. Sika noted he looked paler than usual and for the first time since she'd meet him, he carried no weapon.

"Suck it up," the accountant growled, throwing him a dangerous look. The Jashinist was still having a hard time though, he moaned and groaned and drug on until the banker finally whirled around and barked,

"Just what the hell is wrong with you?"

The Jashinist didn't reply, just revolved face and went in to the rooms ensuite bathroom. Sika got up and poked her head inside the still open door just in time to watch him throw up and she paled too.

"Ew," she muttered, closing the door to silence the wrenching and turned to face Kakuzu. The masked man sighed and shifted from foot to foot, weighing his options.

"I'll stay and take care of him," Sika huffed, acting like this was some big job and like she'd been planning on going with them all along. It was Kakuzu's turn to huff as he left, slamming the door and locking Sika in with the sickly preist. It only took Sika five minutes to figure out that the door also locked from the inside the room too, and slipped out to steal a two litter of ginger ale. When she returned Hidan was still trying to turn his stomach outside of his body. Sighing, Sika barged her way in.

"Just what the," Hidan choked out before having to shove his head back in to the toilet.

"Shut up and puke, jar head," Sika commanded and he gave no indication of being able to stop throwing up.

"I figured maybe you needed somebody to hold your hair, but I forgot it was gelled," she told him, seating herself on the edge of the bathtub behind him, "I dunno if you can answer me, but uh, you got the flu or?"

"Food allergy," he grunted before he wrenched again, "milk."

That made sense, the soup they'd had for dinner had a milk based broth, but apparently he hadn't noticed. Sika thought to reach out and rub his shoulders, knowing they'd be sore later, but as soon as her hands touched his cloths he jumped, all his muscles tensed and she thought he was going to cough up a lung. Sika pulled her hand back, and stood up, quickly leaving the room.

Sika was not particularly fond of touching, she'd been mishandled for too long in her life time, but it was clear to her his aversion for physical contact was much more. She wasn't offended. Of course a mass murderer and psychopath probably wouldnt be used to people touching him kindly. So Sika resolved to sit on the bed and pick at the binding on her arms until the silver haired man emerged from the bathroom an hour later to throw himself on to the other side of the bed.

"Want some ginger ale?" She offered.

He lay face down on the mattress with his arms outstretched and one leg hanging off the bed. He nodded yes and Sika realized she hadn't brought cups. So she opened the bottle anyway and took a drink, supporting it with two hands before she handed it to him. He felt the bottle before sitting up, his face reading something like 'what the fuck' before he realized what she was holding. Crossing his legs Indian style, he took a swig and then sat the bottle down on the nightstand next to him. He had enough sense at least not to chug it, he'd be right back in the bathroom.

"Your welcome," Sika mumbled, knowing he would be too proud to thank her. He rolled his eyes and flopped back down on the bed. "Where are we going? Kakuzu said we were detouring, right?"

"Well, we missed a meeting," he drawled, but huffed and continued when she raised her eyebrows, "it was sort of my fault. We're gonna meet some other Akatsuki."

"Do they all have wonderful personalities like you and Kakuzu?" Sika jested, he didn't think it was funny. He watched her for a second with that strange sort of way she was fast getting used to before he cleared his throat.

"You uh, touched me earlier," he stated, in a way like his throat had gone dry.

"Yeah," she replied.

He'd seen something in that notion that wasn't really there. In all his years of traveling and killing, very few people had lay a hand on him if they hadn't been fighting. Never once though, had someone touched him in a nice way, not even so much as a pat on the back, not since he left the cult.

"Yeah," he replied and that was all that was said on the subject.

"You said you used to be a nun?" He asked, quickly changing the subject.

"Yeah," she sort of laughed, "I tried to learn some kind of compassion and empathy I guess, I was mad after my mom died, like why her, right? I think I started there when I was fifteen? I was only there until I became an adult anyway."

"Why'd you give that up for a whore house?"

"Didn't like it," she replied, "I thought my time was better invested somewhere else, and Madame Ishi made me think she was doing me a favor, she never said how miserable it was. What about you?"

"What's there to know?" He grumbled, but she raised her eyebrows again and pryed an answer out of him.

"I joined The way of Jashin when I was thirteen, and uh, I was eighteen when I slaughtered all those heathens back in hot water country, and then I joined Akatsuki. That's it."

"No parents?" She asked, looking genuinely concerned. That surprised him. She gasped as he shook his head.

"That's rough! How'd you like, develop? Oh, we'll never mind, you didn't. You couldn't have."

"What are you talking about?" He asked, furrowing his eyebrows and throwing her a confused glance. This girl was nuts.

"Well, like, Erickson's eight stages of man? You've never heard of that? It's like how a person develops based on how they're treated though life," she explained, "but I don't know if it matters to you because they royally fuck you ninjas up."

He thought she was crazy, really he did. He wasn't sure where she'd learned that, probably civilian school. They had to teach those kids something. Hidan reached over for the bottle of ginger ale and took a long sip.

"I really enjoy your company though, your nice," she grinned in a bad attempt at flirting. Of course he was oblivious to it. Frankly, he was hot, and he looked even hotter when he fought or talked about that religion he was passionate about.

"I maim people for fun," he scoffed. Him? Nice? Hardly.

"You know what I mean," she said, rolling her eyes in to the next dimension. He nodded and grinned to, he did know what she meant.

"Your not to bad yourself," he returned, in an even worse attempt to flirt, and of course, she was just as oblivious.