Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.


Please read: Hello there! Welcome to the second revised chapter. What do you guys think? Yet again, please review. I'd love to know your opinions of the new plot, character developments, and quality of the story. Reviews give me the motivation I need to continue writing! :)

WARNING: Violence, dark themes, and mentions of non-consent.


When God is gone and the Devil takes hold,

Who'll have mercy on my soul?

O' Death, O' Death, consider my age,

Please don't take me on this day.


Chapter Two: O' Death

Seven tumbled onto the forest floor for the third time since her escape. Her ankle had been merciless and unforgiving, but she had no time to heal it; she was sore, naked, wet, and utterly desperate.

Blood gushed from her shoulder. Not good. At some point during the night, she must have reopened her wound. More blood loss meant a higher chance of passing out, and a higher chance of passing out meant a higher chance of seeing Hidan's unsettling grin as she died. She grimaced at the thought of the immortal man's devilishly handsome face slithering into her line of vision. She knew that he would have loved to deliver the finishing blow back at her house – after he had raped and humiliated her, of course.

He was the most dangerous and threatening man that she had ever had the misfortune of meeting. He was ruthless and thorough with his kills, he was sick and disturbing with his women, he was-

Seven stopped when she felt her body begin to heat up; becoming flustered at the mere thought of his gruesome nature would only slow her down. She had to focus on getting away. She had to focus on getting up. She had to focus on better things. She could hear him lurking somewhere behind her, closer than she thought he was. The man was full of vile, gruesome surprises; his uncanny ability of always managing to catch up to her, was only one of many.

Getting to her knees, she took a moment to stare at the clouded sky. It had been raining since she first entered the forest. Lightning had lit up the dark night sky a few times, making it easier to avoid the tree roots and rocks scattered about. Thunder grumbled like a malevolent god in the distance, chilling her damp, clammy skin.

A storm had arrived at her small village – a very large storm.

She had to keep moving.

She got to her feet and hissed as a sharp pain shot through the left side of her body. She had barely given her wounds a chance to rest; if she was not being tossed across the room, she was running for her life. He had not given her a break. He had been relentless, forcing her to be just as relentless on her aching body. As long as she could still run, walk, limp, or crawl, she would continue to move.

He would not catch her, as long as she could still move.

Seven veered toward the east, ditching the grass-laden trail that hikers often followed. Her chances of losing the Jashinist psychopath would grow if she moved off of the slippery, muddy path.

She could hear his war cries echoing across the treetops, eerily close behind her. It had not taken him long to realize that she had slinked away while he was occupied. Sure enough, as soon as she had managed to limp into the comfort of the forest, he had flown out of her house and followed her clumsy footprints. Jashin gave him the malefic clairvoyance he needed to dispose of her. Even if he could not see her, he knew where she was. He could follow her to the ends of the Earth, regardless of the trail she left behind.

Seven shivered violently as she ran, more from terror than the harsh climate; he was a nightmare in every way possible, and his God was even worse.

There was no escaping such a brutal, vindictive evil.

But she had to try.

She panted as she swerved through the bushes and between a set of trees. She was starting to wheeze, her heart pounding painfully against her ribcage. Her stamina was about to hit rock bottom, "I'm going to die," she panted, "either from heart failure or a scythe wound."

She stopped and leaned against an old, thick tree. The air was dense and humid, and the rain was gushing from the sky violently. It was impossible to run for a long period of time in such rotten weather, but she was still upset with herself for resting. She had taken too long to get up after her last clumsy fall; she had no time to be standing around. He would find her in no time, and when he did…

"Oh my dear God…" she muttered, placing her shaky hand against her breast, "I can't keep this up for long… I can't-"

Even nearer than before, she heard the insane Jashinist, laughing to high hell, "Your ass is mine, bitch! I'm going to fucking skin you!"

He was far too close to her, now.

She knew that she should not have stopped, and she cursed her body for constantly giving out on her.

At the rate that he was running, he would reach her location in a matter of minutes. If she dove into the bushes, he would find her. If she climbed into a long, leafy tree, he would climb up after her. If she took off toward her safe, little village, he would grab her and snap her neck before she could even scream.

Sweat and rain poured down her face. She was so frustrated that she wanted to cry. She had no plan. She had no power. She had nothing. She was sitting duck for him and his omniscient God. When the time came for him to carve his scythe into her skin, she would only be able to look up at him with broken, pleading eyes. He would do as he pleased with her before ridding the world of her being.

A few stray tears slid down her pale cheeks at the thought of her upcoming torture, 'Why us?! Why the hell did it have to be us…?'

The poor woman was jolted from her sorrowful thoughts when she heard bushes moving nearby. She placed a careful hand against her quivering lips. She could sense no one nearby, and could see no movement beyond the shrubbery. An animal, perhaps, trying to find shelter during the storm.

'But you know that wasn't an animal.' Her mind warned her. 'Start running, and you might get a little bit further before you feel his hand around your throat.'

Stepping away from the old tree, she looked behind her and gazed at the bare blackness of the forest. Had it always been that dark behind her? She looked to the sky for her answer. Thunder rumbled sternly in the distance.

No.

Something was coming.

Something was coming, and it was as wicked and terrible as the sinister raincloud that hovered over her village.

She did not contemplate it.

She gathered her courage – her one prized belonging that still remained intact – and fled.


He saw her run deeper into the forest and cursed.

He had watched her come to a stop by the tall, old tree.

He had seen her consider her chances of survival. Did she really believe that she could escape him? Did she truly believe that he had not caught up to her yet?

Laughter erupted from his throat as he continued his pursuit.

She was weak and slow, but very, very calculative. Even as she escaped from him, the gears in her mind were turning with haste.

His plan had been to sneak up behind her as she rested, thinking that she was safe from his clutches, masking his movements with the pitter-patter of the rain. He had gotten too caught up in his thoughts when he waded through a particularly large and loud bush, but who could have blamed him? His thoughts centred on what she had promised him, and the look on her cute little face when he would drag her off to fulfill the rest of the bargain.

Hidan had hit the jackpot with her; Jashin had allowed him his spoils, and he would be certain to take them.

Like a startled, helpless animal, she had galloped away upon hearing his careless rustling. He had to admit, her ears were sharp. The only useful thing about her was that she had fine-tuned her senses to notice almost anything around her. She knew that she could not fight him, so she did not try to. Fleeing was her only option; she was lucky that he had the slowest and most impulsive attacks out of all the Akatsuki members.

He smirked as he heard her grunting through the forest. He knew that she was terrified of him, and wanted to put as much distance between them as possible, 'but is she terrified of what I'm going to do to her, or is she terrified of how I'll make her feel when I'm on top of her?'

He chuckled darkly at this thought. Many women enjoyed what he did to their bodies before he sacrificed them. Their mouths screamed at him to stop, but the endless river of wetness dripping from their sensitive holes told him that they did not really mean it; part of them wanted to be ravished. Seven would no doubt prove to be the same. She had reacted violently to him when he had pushed into her womanhood; her eyes had been frantic, searching for something she could do to get him away. Oh yes, he would enjoy breaking her down and having her at his disposal. She would make an excellent trophy for him to keep in his bedroom.

He licked his lips when he realized that she was starting to slow down. Was she becoming too exhausted to run? His mind wandered to how her body would feel pressed against his on the cold, forest floor. "You're mine, bitch," he mumbled sadistically, "and I'm going to enjoy you…"

Up ahead, his gaze settled on the dark entrance of a half-submerged cave.

So, she was planning to run into the cave to escape, was she?

How cute.

He watched as she disappeared through the small opening of the structure, struggling to remain on her feet. Her energy was almost completely depleted, but she clung onto the idea that she could hide from him. Perhaps she thought that if she could not run, she could hide.

The immortal snorted as he reached the small hole that led to her false hopes. It was narrow, wet, and almost impossible for him to fit into. She had been able to pass through due to her small stature, but his muscular form had a difficult time shimmying through the gap, scythe and all.

It was eerie inside of the cave. The rain splattered roughly against the outer walls, sounding like a hundred gunshots in the distance. The thunder echoed loudly throughout the large space, and it was only when a quick lightning bolt lit up the path, did he know where he had to go. He knelt to the ground and dipped his fingers into a small pool of her blood. She was bleeding profusely. It was a wonder that she had managed to stay conscious, let alone run away.

Hidan rose to his feet and scanned the darkness, as if he could see well enough to find her. The cave was large and deep, his panting echoing loudly against its many walls. He shoved a hand through his messy silver locks, pushing them away from his face.

She had run toward the small entrance with determination, as if she had recognized it. If that was the case, then she had the advantage; he was playing on her terrain.

Taking a few steps forward, the Jashinist felt himself smirk. He had always loved a perfidious game of hide-and-seek.

Shuffling through his cloak for matches, he began to think of a plan. He would leave no crevice left unsearched. Judging by the structure of the cavern, the only way that she would be able to escape would be if she were to sneak around him. Unfortunately for her, he would never allow that to happen.

"Seven…" he whispered playfully, letting her name slither off his tongue, "…Get your ass out here, or I'll have to start playing rough…"

He laughed sadistically at his own, vile joke.

In her hiding place, Seven heard his whisper carry along the walls of her safe place. The way he said her name made her teeth chatter. He had no right to utter it, or act as if she belonged to him. At the back of her mind, she considered that he might have taken her up on the offer she had made, back at the house. 'Maybe that's why he's acting like this. Maybe he's hell-bent on capturing me so that I can fulfill all of his evil wishes. He did leave Flare alive…' Thinking of the deal made her shiver. Had he earnestly considered her proposal? She knew that Jashinism only had one commandment: To bring absolute destruction unto all things encountered. Had his God given him permission to retrieve her and use her as he pleased?

'That brings up another issue…' She pondered, seriously, 'Is Jashin real? At first, I thought that he was just hearing voices. I thought he had schizophrenia. I thought that there was no way a deity like Jashin could exist, but…' Seven felt her heartbeat quicken with her sudden insight, '…there can't be an entire cult of schizophrenics. I've heard stories of others' encounters with Jashinists. They all talked about receiving orders from their God. They all spoke about Jashin as if he was an actual-' She stopped herself there, finally understanding that she was in far more trouble than she had first believed.

Jashin could not be real… could he?

She knew that Hidan had some type of dark clairvoyance; how else could he have found her in the dark forest? There were some ninja who had superior night vision, or powers that allowed them to track their targets. 'He's not a sensor type, though. I can tell. He isn't trying to sniff out my scent, he isn't looking at random objects for my hand or footprints, and he doesn't appear to have any sort of ocular ability,' the girl was getting more and more nervous, as she exhausted all of her rational options, 'If he had some acute hearing jutsu, he would have leapt for me when I made my escape from the house. Telepathy isn't an option either, or else he would have found me by now. He would probably also know a little more about Flare and I. I bluffed about the people coming because Flare was in danger, but there was a moment where he actually believed me. If he could read my mind… No, no, no. There's a higher power at work here. Nothing else makes sense.'

While her mind was scaring her into bloody oblivion, she placed her hand onto the hilt of an old, rusty kunai that she had found on the cave floor. Some ninja had been training, and left it behind carelessly. Though he had not thought of his kunai as important, Seven had beamed at the aspect of using the tool for self-defence. She was no ninja – she had never been trained to handle sharp objects – but she refused to be manhandled by him, again. This time, she would be able to put up a better fight. He was much larger than her, and had plenty of experience to best her in a duel, but a quick jab to the gut with the kunai, and he would cease to underestimate her. Then, when he dropped to his knees in pain, she would make her escape.

Choosing to hide in the cave had been a last minute decision. She believed that she would be able to sneak past him in the vast darkness, but she would have to be stealthy. She would be unable to draw any sort of attention to herself, lest she want his scythe to penetrate her body. However, now that she had a small weapon, she had more options. She could wait for him to find her, or make a run for it when he turned his back on her.

The only thing left to consider was which option he would choose.

As soon as Hidan lit the tiny match, he understood how carefully he would have to inspect the cave. From wall to wall, there were gaps. Some led to other passages, and others were nothing more than petite hiding places; the setting was perfect for a game of killing.

He looked down at the blood trail and followed it with his eyes. Much to his chagrin, it ended only inches away from where he was standing. Furthermore, her wet footprints ended not far away from the blood trail, as if she had taken the time to dry her feet beforehand.

She had been smart enough to clean up after herself.

When had she found the time to do that? He had been right on her heels… She was not like his other sacrifices at all. She was quick, cunning, and slippery.

She liked to run, and oh, how he loved to chase.

"Ah, shit…" he mumbled sorely, a smirk remaining on his lips, "…I can't wait to find you, sweetheart."

Seven grimaced at the strange pet name. Her hand jittered, wanting nothing more than to aim the old kunai at his head.

Hidan took a few more steps into the cave, holding the small match far away from his body. The bulge in his pants was growing substantially from the mere thought of her. The fear was radiating off of her in waves, and he found it absolutely delicious. Though the ground was slimy with rain and moss, he had no problem with fucking her right where he stood. He wanted to grab a fistful of her hair and rip her head from the ground. He wanted to yank on her nipples as he plunged into her aching womanhood, and he wanted to slide his tongue past her protesting lips.

He needed to find her to relieve himself soon. His steamy thoughts were beginning to cloud his navigation skills.

He knew that she could be hiding in any one of the gaps that were shrouded by darkness. If he chose to check the gaps that led to other passages first, she would take the opportunity to run past him. If he buried his head too far into a dark hole, she would creep from her hiding place and catch him off-guard. Other criminals might have feared being apprehended by their victim, but he found himself growing even more excited from their deadly little game.

Pulling his scythe from his back, he licked his lips hungrily. Closing his greedy, lavender eyes, he positioned himself in the middle of the pathway. If she tried to sneak past him while he was conversing with Lord Jashin, her pretty little neck would be in his hands in less than a second. He grinned at the thought of her pained expression, 'Lord Jashin, guide me to the woman. I can't find her without your guidance.'

Seven watched him from her dark little opening, and froze when he ripped his scythe from his back. Was he planning to kill her – sacrifice her – to his vicious God, after all? She nibbled on her lower lip nervously, watched as he closed his eyes. She knew by now that he was talking with his divine destructor; whenever he closed his eyes and looked as though he was in a deep trance, he was communicating with the unseen. In a matter of moments, he would open his eyes and look directly at her. In mere seconds, she would be discovered.

She slid her body as far back as it would go and slowed her ragged breathing. She held her injured shoulder in a painful death-grip, determined to stop the bleeding. She cursed herself for letting him tear off her clothes; she might have been able to use the fabric as a tourniquet. With her wounds taken care of, she could have geared more of her focus toward the half-naked psychopath and his beloved scythe.

She rolled her eyes at how ridiculous her situation sounded, 'Man… I feel like I'm the main character of a ridiculous novel.' She mused disdainfully, shaking her head at the absurd thought.

Seven shivered from the cool cave air, and wiped a bead of sweat from her brow. Her damp hair dangled loosely down her naked back and breasts, turning her shivering into something worse. If she got away from the mad Jashinist with her life, she would surely have pneumonia, but she supposed that being sick was better than being dead.

At that moment, Hidan's eyes opened wide, and an almost enlightened look dawned across his masculine face. Much to her surprise, his head darted to the passage just across from her. Her lower lip quivered with anticipation as he knelt down to explore it, wedging half of his upper body into the moist gap.

She was confused.

Had his God led him into falsehood? Was his clairvoyance not always exact? Was he trying to lure her out by turning his back on her real hiding place? Seven pondered the man's peculiar actions, searching for an answer. She wanted to move, but forbade herself. If she did not have a plan to escape Hidan's devious clutches – whether his back was turned or not – then she would not move; that was what she had promised herself. Still, she struggled to formulate a strategy. Gripping her kunai tightly, she gulped.

What else could she do but make a mad dash for the exit?

All of her other options had been exhausted.

Hidan pretended to take a long look into the dark opening, holding his small light into the abyss. The passage led to another room entirely, but he did not let his curiosity trigger an exploration; he was far more interested in his little plaything, thinking that she could hide from his all-knowing God. He knew exactly where she was, and sooner or later, she would emerge from her hiding space. Lord Jashin never led him astray. He would catch his little toy and drag her out of the cave, barely breathing.

He tried not to giggle upon hearing her emerge from behind him, doing just as he had predicted. She was trying to be wise and devious, making as little sound as possible, but she could not mask her sound from a trained ninja. He could hear her, clear as day.

When he heard the gentle padding of her feet against the cave floor, he tore himself away from the passage and turned toward the entrance of the cave. "Found y-" His eyes widened in disbelief as he stared at the empty entryway, droplets of rain pouring heavily through the narrow crack.

She was nowhere to be found, yet he was sure he had heard her. For her to run further into the cave made little sense. Did she still fail to understand that he would capture her no matter what? Did she forget that running deeper into the cavern – far too deep for anyone to find her – was a horrible, horrible idea?

Whipping around, he caught the bottom half of her naked body dashing deeper into the darkness. He took a few seconds to register what had happened before barrelling after her, fury in his eyes. He had not expected her to run away from the exit. Her actions were both frustrating and confusing, causing his anger to spike, 'It doesn't make sense,' he thought with pure abhorrence, 'what the fuck is she doing!?'

With a cry of vehemence, he ran as fast as his legs would carry him, not caring that his match had been discarded metres ago. Darkness enveloped him, leaving him vulnerable to fear and injury, but he had no interest or care for either of those things. Vulnerability was for the weak and stupid. He refused to feel shaken or nervous in unknown situations, and overclouded his emotions with rage and the prospect of a good kill. He would follow the sound of her eager footsteps, and when he caught her…

"When I catch you, you little whore…" He sneered, "…When I catch your filthy, heathen ass, I'm going to choke the life from those pretty little lips! You're fucking dead!"

If she had not pushed him hard enough before, now she had done it.

Seven tripped over a stray rock, but could not afford to fall to her knees. Touching the ground with her palm, she steadied herself enough to keep running. She knew that she was in even more trouble, now; the angrier she made him, the worse her death would be. Still, she knew that escaping was damn well worth the effort.

She barely held back a frightened scream when she heard his menacing footsteps close in on her. His speed had increased. Now, he was angry and fast, preparing to reach out, grab her, and smash her to the ground. Her ankle would not allow her to outrun him. Her only hope was to forget about slowing down and run just a little bit longer. She knew that there would be a body of water coming up, soon. If she could just dive in before he got to her…

Hidan heard a loud splash and howled a flurry of curses. If he had sped up just a little more, he would have been able to grab her hair and rush her body into his. She would not have reached her watery destination, and he would not have had to dive in after her. He growled lowly and thought about wringing her neck underwater, holding her there until all the air escaped from her lungs.

But he chose a bad time to become lost in thought.

Losing his footing on the edge of the slippery, rocky oasis, he fell in after her.

He sputtered and growled darkly. Shifting his eyes in every direction at once, he found that he could see far less underwater. As if he was in the depths of the ocean, he scrambled away from an unknown creature that brushed against his thigh. Hidan was not used to the unknown, but he definitely disliked it. Ever since his Lord had taken him as one of his few devoted followers, there was not much that was left unknown to him. It was almost unnerving when he did not know how to go about a new situation. The cavern had been mysterious, making him feel slightly uneasy. Slipping, as well, had made him feel uneasy, for it meant that he was unaware of the terrain around him.

He was beyond pissed. How dare she make him feel this way? He swore that when he found that goddamn woman, she would pay dearly.

No one made him feel uncomfortable.

No one made him look like a fool.

And no one ever fled from divine judgement.

Gearing his mind back to the task at hand, Hidan kept a firm hold on his oversized scythe. With a nimble swing outwards, he grinned cruelly when he felt the longest blade make contact with something soft. Reeling it toward him, he almost laughed when he felt the catch struggle to release itself. Whatever he had managed to stab, it certainly was not a fish. Oh, luck was definitely on his side.

Seven screamed when the metal lodged itself into her upper thigh, choking on the sudden flush of water that rushed into her lungs. The pain was excruciating, even more so when she felt him jerk the weapon from her muscle. The breath she had been holding gone, the woman found herself both bleeding to death and drowning. She could already taste her own blood wafting around her, turning the grimy cave water red. She should have been faster and lower. He had aimed high, expecting her to hover near the surface. It was her own dumb mistake that she had been stricken, and now she would pay the price.

Before she could even think to start swimming away, Hidan had her upper arm in his tight grasp. Her leg and arm paralysed, she could only kick at him fervently. He muttered something that was completely incoherent, clearly amused with himself, and dragged her toward him.

She wondered if he would lodge his scythe through her heart this time, finishing her off for good. She may have been able to walk off a few limb wounds, but no one could walk off death… well, no one but an immortal.

She wondered if Jashin had led him to her, once again, but found herself doubtful. He had been blinded by his fury. The times where he had found her, he had taken the time to converse with his deity. The truth was, he had made a blind swing with his scythe and managed to hit her; Jashin had nothing to do with his atrocious victory.

She moaned as he dug his nails into her fresh wound, looking to weaken her enough so that she would pass out. The scythe had jabbed itself deeply into her thigh, and she had no doubt that she would die in her own blood. He had a vice-grip on her body, one that she could not break; he was far too strong and she was far too weak. What's more, if she did not rise to the surface for air, soon, she would lose consciousness. If she lost consciousness, then her fight would be over; he would have destroyed her.

One of her hands rose to push against his chest, and she heard him laugh maniacally. The water made his laugh sound deeper, and she thought he sounded like the reincarnation of Satan. Her hand touched his rosary and she flinched, forcing herself not to recoil completely. 'This rosary is part of the reason why I'm stuck fighting for my life in an underwater cave.' She thought darkly, never hating a piece of metal more in her life. One of his hands travelled up her torso, gently sliding his fingertips over her breast. She gagged, imagining the cruel grin that was most definitely locked not his face. A surge of anger imploded in her mind, overclouding her desperation, 'I hate him. I fucking hate him, Jashin, and this piece of shit rosary!'

She did not know what she expected to happen. She did not even realize that she was still hanging onto her weapon. She fingered the rusty kunai clumsily, not knowing where to aim. It was too dark to tell where he was, and she had never been trained to handle such a small weapon.

With her free hand, she reached in front of her and placed her palm against his muscular chest. Gliding her hand around as smoothly as she could, she smirked when she found what she was looking for. He stiffened at the sudden contact, but she gave him no time to contemplate it. Grabbing the weapon from her captured hand, she stabbed it viciously into his chest, splitting the link that attached the symbol of Jashin to his neck and puncturing a lung.

Seven gasped hoarsely when the blade made contact with his flesh. It felt odd, like she had just murdered an innocent man. She had never been trained to kill. She had never been taught how far to drive a piece of metal through one's body. Nevertheless, the sound of the cruel immortal choking on the bloody water made her heart light up. She had felt the chain of his rosary split slowly, a few of the bits brushing past her arm.

Her eyes widened in realization. She had stabbed him in the chest. A regular man would be dying; she would have killed a regular man. But there he was in front of her, seething and dead-set on ending her life. He was a freak in the worst way possible. He would always be alive, regardless of what anyone did. If she blew him to bits and buried him in a dark hole, he would chew his way out. If she stabbed all of his vital organs, he would spit blood in her face. If she crucified him and let the vultures pick his bones,his god would cut him loose.

He would never die.

He would chase her to the end of the world and back.

Her hand shook steadily as she wretched it away from the kunai. She was not sure if she was going into shock or losing consciousness.

It took Hidan a moment to feel what she had done. He wondered where she had gotten the kunai, and why his Lord had not warned him that she was brandishing a weapon. Then he realized that she had successfully punctured his left lung, and blood was squirting slowly into the water surrounding them, mixing well with hers. The pain was instantaneous making him grit his teeth in a mixture of pleasure and agony. He may have enjoyed pain, but he did not enjoy that his victim had turned the tables on him. He was supposed to be the one inflicting pain. He wanted to see her face twisted in agony.

Even underwater, she heard his inhuman roar.

Seven felt his fist collide with her gut, and exhaled her last bit of air. Before she could think to retrieve the kunai and stab him again, he wrestled the kunai from his body and tossed it behind him. He grinned evilly, knowing that she did not have any more tricks up her sleeve. Her weapon was gone and water was filling up her lungs; she was finally done for. Their tedious chase had come to a deadly close.

He was grateful that he did not have to take a breath of air. He was grateful that he could not die from suffocation, drowning, or a petty puncture wound. A sick smirk wafted across his lips as she tried to scramble away from his grasp. His hold on her resembled a heavy ball and chain; she simply could not escape. He reached for his rosary, wanting nothing more than to give thanks to his precious Lord Jashin. Because of his almighty guidance, he had managed to get his hands on the woman. He would not let her die… at least, not yet. She had a more precious purpose to serve him, and would most definitely have his fill of her before the month was done.

He chuckled as he clawed at his bare chest, searching for the weight of his pendant. Confusion flashed across his features when he could not find what he was looking for.

No.

No.

This could not be right.

Where was it?

He brought his hand to his neck and searched for the chain.

No!

His handsome lavender eyes widened in disbelief.

Not only had she punctured his lung, she had also managed to destroy something even more dear to him. He had been the prodigy of Jashin. He had been the first immortal of his religion. While wearing the pendant, he could feel the power of his deity flow through him, like waves crashing against a shoreline. He could speak with his God. He could receive prophecies from his God. Without his pendant, he was nothing.

Without his pendant, he was not a Jashinist.

He did not even need to think about his options. He needed to find it. It was somewhere in the murky gravel below, and he needed to find it.

Before he moved, he tightened his grip on his prisoner, 'the hunt is still on, little bitch,' he thought, 'and now, you're going to wish you never fucked with me.'

Seven felt him release her and move away. Judging from the shift in the current, she could tell than he was moving downward. 'His pendant… no way. Is it that important to him?' She wasted little time with her thoughts. If he was giving her a break, then she needed to take it.

She kicked her legs as best as she could and rose to the surface of the water. Gasping for breaths that her lungs would not give her, the girl managed to climb out of the underwater paradise, coughing like a long-term smoker.

She was lucky to be alive. She had been so utterly close to drowning, and even closer to bleeding out. Her fresh thigh wound was still oozing what little blood she had left in her body, and her lungs felt as if they had been set ablaze. She was certainly not out of danger, yet.

Hoisting herself up with her good arm, she managed to vomit, bringing up most of the swallowed water. It felt good to finally take a moment to relax and release the contents of her stomach. Ever since she had first laid eyes on Flare, a large gash through his throat, she had found herself on-edge and anxious. The Jashinist was a filthy, deceptive, disgusting man. It made her stomach churn, just thinking about him, and she had to hold herself back from dry heaving to the point of passing out.

There was still more to be done. She was at risk of bleeding out, collapsing from exhaustion, and being brutally murdered by a madman. She had to get out of the cave and find help.

She hoped that Hidan would take a long time to find his pendant. Better yet, she hoped that he would not be able to find it at all. There was an overabundance of mud, slime, and watery creatures at the bottom of the cave pool, making it hard to find anything at all.

A small smirk graced her lips as she got to her feet, using the cave walls to stabilize herself. Fortunately, her thigh and ankle wounds were bound to one leg, so she could use her other leg to hold herself steady. Guiding herself along the dark walls of the cave, she finally reached the exit. Rain flew through the crack that she had entered. She felt herself grow excited from the smell of rainwater. For once, the tables were turned; Hidan was the one at a disadvantage. She had been the one to escape his clutches, and had even ruined something valuable to him.

She had a fabulous head start.

Even as she shuffled into the rainy night, she could hear no footsteps behind her. As far as she knew, he was still hunting relentlessly for his pendant.

She knew that she had to head toward her village if she wanted to survive. She had already learned that she could not outrun or escape him on her own. She had to receive special help from a trained expert. If Flare had not been able to reach him by now, Seven would locate the Jonin and ask for assistance.

Falling to her knees, she elected to crawl as fast as she could. With no walls to support her weakened body, she had no choice. Clawing her way through the slick mud, she heard the sound of footsteps up ahead. The good news was that it could not be Hidan, but she vaguely wondered if Hidan had brought an accomplice with him, in case she and Flare had proved to be hard catches, 'but if he had an accomplice, wouldn't he have shown himself by now? I haven't sensed anyone but Hidan this entire time.'

She shook her head and continued her journey along the forest floor. If she could find her way back to the main path, she might be able to flag someone down for help; if they were not ninja, then perhaps they could carry her to the village.

Opening her mouth, her cries only surfaced as whispers. Darkness was overtaking her.


Shikaku had come to the serene, little village by order of Lady Tsunade.

As was requested by Omi, the village's chief, he had been sent to train some of the young men and women in the art of being a ninja. As the mighty Hokage, Lady Tsunade had started to lend assistance to the smaller villages around their great nation. Many of the villages wanted to be able to defend themselves against the growing threat of Orochimaru and the Akatsuki, but were unable to do so without Konoha's aid.

He had expected to spend a few months in the promising, small village, working to transform normal civilians into skilled Genin. Then, he would return home to his family and friends.

He had not expected to come across a young civilian as talented as Flare Toho, and he certainly had not expected to be dragged into the Akatsuki's ominous affairs. However, when the young prodigy came stumbling out of the forest, scrambling to get away from the vast gloominess of the night, Shikaku knew that his mission had turned into something far more troublesome.

Chouza had come to visit him for a few days on Lady Tsunade's command; she had asked him to complete a report on how Shikaku's training was progressing. Of course, Chouza had jumped at the chance to visit his old friend, who he had not seen since the early days of June.

He had expected to fill out a quick progress report, spend a few days relaxing with his companion, and then return home to his family. He had expected to eat his fill of Shikaku's fine food, give the aspiring youngsters a few tips, and be on his merry way.

He had not expected to lay eyes on a bloody, dying child, and he certainly had not expected to be dragged into a potentially fatal battle.

The pair had been sitting on the porch on Shikaku's guest house when the wet, beaten, and wounded boy lurched toward them. The old Nara recognized him immediately, and rushed to catch him before he fell into a particularly large puddle.

The boy was shaky, and he spoke as desperately as he looked. He vaguely explained what had happened, but made sure that the two men knew that his sister needed assistance. He reiterated the fact that the intruder was a member of the Akatsuki, but gave them no other descriptives.

Chouza shudder anxiously, "and you're sure there was only one of them?" he questioned.

"Y-Yes," Flare said softly, casting his eyes downwards, "th-the-th-there was only… one of them."

Shikaku closed his eyes and thought back to what Jiraiya had mentioned about the Akatsuki. They were a mercenary organization, with nine to ten members. They travelled in pairs, and did not hesitate to kill witnesses and bystanders. Some large villages had used their services in the past, including Iwagakure. They were a very, very dangerous organization, but only two of its members had ever shown their faces in Konoha. The rest, Shikaku only knew from the Bingo Books.

'I don't think it's Itachi or Kisame, but I won't rule them out, just yet… Who else…?

Deidara and Sasori. Deidara defected from Iwa and has a strange Kekkei Genkai on his hands. Before he left, he blew up various large buildings in his village. Not much is known about Sasori. No one can be sure if it's really him that joined the Akatsuki… no one has managed to see his face. Regardless, he's a well-trained puppet master. We can't rule him out, either. For all we know, he could be manipulating the man who attacked Flare… or Flare, himself.'

Shikaku eyed his terrified student, taking extra care to search for chakra strings. He could not shake the possibility that he could be taking to a corpse. Sasori was a fabulous puppeteer who was known for commandeering any sort of puppet, and could even throw his voice to mimic his victim's.

'Yeah, Sasori is definitely someone to be weary of. But what about his partner, Deidara? Based on reports, we should have heard an explosion by now; he isn't the type to stay quiet for long. And what would Sasori and Deidara want with a defenseless woman and a novice shinobi?'

The old shadow-user inspected the boy once more before making his tentative conclusion, 'No, I don't think it's them. It just doesn't make sense.

What about Kakuzu and Hidan? There isn't much information on Kakuzu, but we do know that he's sneaky. He's the type to handle stealth missions involving assassination or kidnapping. He would be perfect for a mission like this, but why would he do it? A money incentive? Who would offer him money to kill two orphans?'

Shikaku thought back to how their parents had died, believing that there was a deeper link between Flare, Seven, and an order for assassination, 'Grayson and Cadence Toho died while on a mission to collect medicinal herbs. In fact, a member from the Yamanaka clan was supposed to accompany them that day, but was delayed. Their colleagues thought that they were onto something huge, something that would revolutionize healing techniques. Maybe the kids know something. Maybe they carried on their parents' work, and now they're being hunted. The Akatsuki might have been hired as mercenaries by a wealthy clan.'

"Can you give us a description of the intruder?" Shikaku asked, finally starting to piece his thoughts together. "If he really is an Akatsuki member, we'll need to know who we're dealing with."

He cast a weary glance at Chouza, who nodded in agreement. He did not want to stir up more excitement from Flare by asking him about reasons behind the attack. Besides, the most important thing was making sure that all civilians involved were out of harm's way; he could ask the siblings whatever he wanted when everyone was safe.

Still, he could not help but wonder…

'Could Flare and Seven have really mastered an incredible healing technique?' The shadow-user pondered, 'I don't know if Flare has it in him. He likes physical fighting more than careful deduction. Did Seven figure it out by herself? Hmm… I wouldn't put it past her. She makes up for her lack of physical skill with her mental dexterity. If she did continue her parents' research, then the Akatsuki must have been hired as assassins to destroy any evidence of her findings. They were probably hired by the same people who murdered their parents… Jeez… It would be a real drag if Flare figured that out… He would probably pull a Sasuke Uchiha and try to avenge his parents in the dumbest way possible. Better not clue him in on anything until this whole thing has blown over.'

Chouza stared at his old friend for a while. He knew that his brain was churning with possible ideas and solutions, as it always was during the heat of battle. He had no doubt that Shikaku would know how to handle the situation with utmost care, and when the time came for them to fight, they would emerge victoriously.

Smiling slightly, his dark eyes drifted to Flare. The boy seemed nervous. His body jolted at the sound of every bush and plant rustling in the breeze, as if he anticipated some sort of surprise attack, 'he must have gone through hell,' the large man thought, 'even Kakashi Hatake had trouble battling an Akatsuki member, and this boy is only a novice. I can't believe he managed to survive.'

Chouza's eyes wandered to Flare's body, searching for signs of blood. Judging by how he limped toward them, terrified and breathless, the older man knew that he had to have been wounded. He noticed that one of his fingers was poking out at an obscene angle, and wondered how he had managed to shatter the bone. His shoulder, too, was badly injured. The enemy must have enjoyed torturing him before moving to administer the final blow. The skin on his neck had a slight copper tint, suggesting that the rain had washed off any trace of the damage that once dwelled there.

However…

'I can't see a gash anywhere. His clothes are torn around his neck, but… There's no sign of a wound.' Chouza took a moment to consider what he was looking at, completely stumped, 'What happened to this boy? Someone so young… could he have healed himself…?'

"He was an Akatsuki member…" The young boy mumbled suddenly, finally gathering the strength to answer what he had been asked, "…he came into our house and I threw his scythe and he hit me… and he… he…" there was a pained look on his face, as he retold his story a second time, "…he grabbed Sev, my sister… he… just… grabbed her… he didn't really do anything to her… at first…" Shikaku wanted to stop him from continuing. His frightened eyes were widening with each word he spoke, as if recounting the gruesome past events were driving him closer passed the brink of insanity.

Before the old Nara could reach to touch his quivering shoulder, Flare began to sob uncontrollably. Tears were streaming down his face like small waterfalls, and his chest was heaving furiously. He could not bring himself to answer Shikaku's question at all. He could not get the Jashinist's face from his mind, and it was making him sick.

Chouza was taken aback. This was the first actual display of emotion that the teenager had shown them. Something was eating him up on the inside, and he was finally starting to let it out, "He-He… Oh god… Oh fuck… I abandoned her there with him… Him and his fucking fucked up God… I fucking abandoned her… Oh god… Oh my fucking godPlease, sensei… Just please follow me… We need to go… now… it's not too late, it's not too late, it's not too late, it's not-"

Flare turned back the way he came, still mumbling reassuring words beneath his breath, but Chouza had seen enough. A large hand collapsed onto the boy's uninjured shoulder, gripping him hard enough to snap him out of his hysteria. He spun the boy to face him, a grave look on his pudgy face, "Before we go anywhere, we need a description of the Akatsuki member. One of the first rules of being a ninja is to gather information before entering a serious battle. I'm sure Shikaku taught you that."

Flare found that he could not look Chouza in the eye. He knew how pathetic he was acting. He knew, and yet, he did not care. All he cared about was making sure that his sister was safe. He had promised her that he would return with help. She had bought him time to escape from their crumbled house, risking her own life to ensure that he would live, and now it was his turn to be strong.

He had to give the two Jonin the information that they needed.

"It's Hidan," Shikaku barked sternly, making Flare flinch, "Hidan is the only known member who fights with a scythe and attacks for his God. Am I right, Flare?"

The shaken boy only stood there, wide-eyed and frozen. He could hardly believe that his sensei had known the Akatsuki member's name. As always, his intelligence level was mountainous compared to his own. The boy wet his lips before nodding slowly, feeling bile rise in his throat. His words were shaky, "B-Bu-B-But… H-How did you…?"

"I deduced that it had to be Hidan based on your account of the event. It came down to the few facts that you gave us: Hidan wields a scythe. Hidan worships Jashin. Hidan would be crazy enough to break into a house and slaughter its inhabitants." Flare shuddered at the thought of his sister lying dead on the floor, striped of her life and innocence.

Chouza marvelled at the shadow-user's memory. Though he had taken a quick look at the updated Bingo Books from time to time, he barely remembered any of the criminals' names, let alone their abilities. He had an idea of who Hidan was, now that Shikaku had revealed his name, but would not have known otherwise, "You'll have to give me an update on his abilities as we go," Chouza yelled, frantically, "but we should get moving!"

Shikaku nodded, though he wondered if it even mattered how fast they arrived at the crime scene. From what he had read, Hidan never left his victims alive. Only one person had ever escaped from his brutal ritual, only to die days later, slipping into a permanent coma. He glanced at Flare, who had leapt away from them. The boy ran clumsily, leading them in the direction of the forest, 'The reality of the situation is… Seven is probably dead. Hidan might still be there with her, but if Flare is hanging onto the hope that she's still breathing…'

He watched the worry on the young teenager's face lessen, and scowled. The boy believed in them to make everything better. He believed in their ability to save his sister. If they arrived to find her dead, would he blame them? Shikaku did not know. Rather, he did not want to know.

Flare was not sure if he was crying tears of pain or tears of joy. He felt safe with his sensei and Chouza. He felt like everything would be alright. If Seven was still at the house with the Jashinist, they would find a way to get her away from him before he slaughtered her.

He knew they would.

They had to.

"We're almost there…" he murmured, more for his own benefit. They were about halfway away from their destination, and Flare could feel adrenaline rushing through his veins. If the Akatsuki had done anything vile to his sister…

He gritted his teeth and did his best not to think about it. He wanted to save his fury for when he saw the Jashinist's face. That way, he would be able to give him the most hate-induced fight of his infinite life. He closed his eyes and imagined the look on Hidan's face when he would come at him with all that he had. The outcome would be different than last time; this time, he would have an even greater reason to fight, and an even greater reason to emerge as the triumphant one.

He would not be defeated.

He could not be defeated.

Too wrapped up in his thoughts, Flare failed to notice the faint chakra signature crawling through the bushes toward them.

Shikaku and Chouza stopped. Shikaku recognized the chakra type almost immediately. There was no doubt about it; it was Seven.

"Flare, stop!"

Shikaku looked to Chouza, as if trying to use telepathy to share his current thoughts. The chubby man stared at his long-time friend for a few seconds, trying to pick up on what he was trying to motioned toward the bushes, never taking his eyes from Flare, 'He's not listening to anything but his thoughts, right now. We'll have to show him Seven with his own two eyes before he'll even think about turning around. Man… when that kid has a goal in mind, there's no stopping him.'

Chouza marched through the grass and peered over the shrubbery, only half surprised to see a dirty, naked, young woman lying beyond it. If she was not coated with blood, she was coated with mud. Her hair was tangled and ripped in several places, and her breathing was shallow. Her half-lidded eyes peered up at Chouza as he leaned down to take her in his arms. He had expected her claw at his hands frantically; after what she had been through, he guessed that her trust in strangers had been lowered drastically. Much to his surprise, she did not move as he placed his large hands under her torso. Perhaps she had seen his Konoha headband, or perhaps she had heard Shikaku's distinctive voice. 'Perhaps,' he thought grimly, 'she can't even see me, anymore.'

As Seven was lifted above the ground, Shikaku got a good, horrible look at her. His expression of absolute disgust matched Chouza's, and he had to hold back the contents of his stomach.

Her wounds were gruesome; the bodies of murder victims looked cleaner than most of them. The fact that she was naked brought rancid thoughts to his overworked mind, and for a moment, he wanted to let Flare continue running. He did not want his pupil to see his older sister like this, but…

'It's his right. He's training to become a ninja, and a ninja must be able to face situations such as these. As bad as this is, exposing him to a victim that's close to him might give him even more of a fighting spirit than he already has. It might just give him more incentive to grow strong.'

"Flare, it's Seven!" Shikaku roared, once more. Before Shikaku could dart after him, the teenager stopped rigidly.

Flare's lower lip quivered, 'Did he…? No. No. He didn't. He couldn't. Seven is…'

He whipped around to see the burly Akimichi cradling his sister's limp body, taking extra care to hold her as gently as he could. He supported her head against one of his large arms, and was inspecting her body for grave injuries. There was a sorrowful look on his face.

'It can't… No. It can't be her. She's back at the house… She's…'

He took a step closer to her, noting that her eyes were beginning to close. She was barely conscious, and perhaps, barely alive, 'what happened to her…?! Her wounds from the house look worse, and her leg – oh my god – her leg…! She's bleeding to death. But…' he watched her chest rise and fall slowly, '…she's still alive.'

"Seven…" Flare murmured, finally coming to terms with what he was seeing, "Seven… Seven… You're alive… You got… a-a-a-way…"

Shikaku stared at the woman's pale orbs, remembering that they once shone as bright as the sun. Sticks and pebbles were stuck in and around her bloody wounds, making him flinch. She needed to be cleaned up as quickly as possible, or risk contracting severe infections. The ripped flesh around her wounds was beginning to turn purple, and he feared that she would go into shock if they did not hurry. Her skin felt clammy, cold, and wrinkly from extreme exposure to the dreadful elements.

She needed immediate medical attention, or she would die.

She shifted his eyes to Chouza, who was staring down at Seven worriedly. Neither of them were healers. The most they could do was rush her to the village for surgery and herbal treatments. Even then, he doubted if simple treatments would be enough. What she truly needed was a medical ninja, 'but the closest one in back in Konoha. That's an easy four hour trip by foot. If we wait that long, she'll succumb to her injuries.'

Shikaku grunted in annoyance. The situation was getting bleaker and bleaker by the second.

Flare appeared beside the pair abruptly, his heart thudding painfully against his rib cage, "Oh, god…" he whispered.

If only he had been stronger. If only he had started his ninja training sooner. If only he had taken his lessons with Shikaku more seriously. If only she had been trained under his sensei, as well. She might have been able to survive against that bastard Akatsuki member, had she been trained to defend herself.

The regrets were blazing through his head like an ever-blazing wildfire. It did not take long for his eyes waver, yielding a desire for vengeance. The Jashinist would pay. Oh, yes. Hidan would pay. He would pay for defiling his sister, hurting her, and hunting her like a weak animal. He would tear his limbs from his torso, and burn them so that he would be unable to reform. His god would not be able to help him, then. A malevolent smile appeared on the young boy's face. Oh, how he had plans for Hidan. The next time he saw him, he would be sure to make him suffer.

Just as the thoughts of revenge were becoming too much for his sanity to bear, Shikaku placed a strong hand against his back.

Flare jumped at the sudden contact, veering his teary gaze toward Shikaku's knowing eyes. Without wasting any words, the old Nara nodded toward the dying woman in Chouza's arms, "you have to heal her," he muttered, "She won't live another hour. And before you ask how I know that you have the ability to heal…" he cracked a small grin, "I guess I'm just a pretty clever guy."

Flare was dumbfounded. He wondered how long his sensei had known about the healing technique. Had he been spying on them?

He looked from Chouza, to Seven, to Shikaku, and then back to Seven. Her eyes were beginning to glaze over. Her lips were turning pale, and she looked like he wanted to tell him something. She lacked the strength to fight against death, this he could see. She was losing control over her body, and was finding it a struggle to breathe. He doubted if she even realized that he was standing there, right in front of her.

He wanted to hit himself for worrying about taking revenge while she needed his help. He was being stupid. He had been close to being completely engulfed by revenge, but his sensei had snapped him out of it. He shook his head strongly, as if shaking the resentful thoughts from his weary brain.

He needed to focus.

He needed toheal.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, Flare nodded to the stone-faced Chouza, "Put her on the ground as gently as you can. She needs to be on a flat surface for this to work..."

Shikaku smirked at the boy as he took control of the situation. He had high hopes for his student, and even more so for Seven. She was barely breathing and bloody from head to toe, but he knew that she would pull through; after all that she and Flare had been through, she had to pull through. They had stood together at their parents' funeral, and they had stood together in front of their empty house. They had shopped together at the marketplace, while all of the other children were skipping alongside their parents. Seven had taken on small research-related missions within her small village, while Flare studied the ways of a ninja. They had done their best to survive together, to live and protect one another.

They had been raised to be strong by their parents, and once the strong, older sister was back to her regular self again, the both of them would only continue to sharpen their skills. Chouza cracked a bright smile at the same time as his comrade. They believed in the siblings' will to survive, for the will to survive was equivalent to Konoha's will of fire.

Flare drew the old symbol that had come to represent their parents. He had regained only a small amount of his chakra since he had last performed the technique, but it was more than enough to save his sister.

Chouza and Shikaku studied the circle, unsure of what the young boy was doing. They had never seen such a peculiar jutsu before, even from the mistress of healing arts, herself, Lady Tsunade. Their eyes widened when a faint white light wafted from Flare's hands and engulfed Seven's body in its essence. Flare remained concentrated, not daring to look at the men's startled reactions. If he made one mistake, the jutsu would cease to work. Both he and Seven had learned that the technique was unfinished and unstable. It was not harmful, but it would not fully heal a wound if it was cast without focus, 'focus…' he willed himself, '…just forget about everything else…'

It took several minutes for either of them to see movement from beneath the blanket of light.

Chouza was beginning to wonder if the jutsu was effective, when he saw Seven's hand twitch furiously. Her fingernails scraped against the dirt, as if she was trying to crawl away. Was she in pain? Did the technique hurt the target, or was she finally conscious enough to feel her inflicted wounds? Though he was glad that she was alive, Chouza felt his heart wrench for the young woman.

Flare felt himself grow excited when he saw movement beneath the jutsu. She was beginning to heal. Her wounds were closing, and her internal damage was being repaired slowly. For the first time since the insane Akatsuki member had broken into their house, a smile was pulled onto his chapped lips, "I'm so glad you're alive…" He whispered, feeling confidence flow throughout his body.

Seven felt the darkness that had been covering her eyesight dissipate; everything beyond it was white. She had known that when she closed her eyes and collapsed onto the ground, she would wake up alive. Something told her that, even though things looked hopeless, luck would be on her side. Someone would save her. 'But who? No one is going to be all the way out here. I'm off-path and it's dark. I'll be unconscious or dead by the time someone finds me, and then what? Who will know who I am…? Unless… could Flare be out there, searching for me?'

She thought of the young teen fondly, recalling the countless times when she had saved him. She had been there for him when he lost his first baby tooth, when he fell and scraped his elbow, when their parents had died, when he had broken his leg…

Maybe it was finally time for him to save her.

She was on the brink of a dream and reality when she felt a warm sensation tingle down her spine. Chakra was flowing into her body at a steady rate, finding her wounds and healing them gradually. The chakra was acting like an equivalent to nourishment. Someone was healing her. Someone knew what they were doing, and she vaguely knew who it was.

She groaned softly, her head pounding like hooves on stone. Her lips were dry and chapped, and she struggled to form words. There were people around her. How many, she could not tell. As for who they were…

"Flare…" She whispered, wondering if he would be able to hear her.

The young boy lit up upon hearing his sister's soft voice. She was not dead, and she was certainly not going to die. She was alive and healing. He was saving her life, and she was letting him.

For once in his short life, he was her hero.

A grin plastered itself onto his face. For a moment, he found that he could not speak, but regained himself rather quickly. It was almost unbelievable, how she had been found and saved. He wondered how she had managed to escape from the sadistic Jashinist, who seemed hell-bent on capturing her.

"SSSev…en?" Flare managed to utter, trying to keep his emotions under control.

Chouza watched the scene with a small smile on his face. It was truly a miracle that she had not succumbed to her injuries. Most of the blood from her wounds had been drained, and she had not had any nourishment since the attack. Her body was exhausted, beaten, and in need of rest. She had been brave to face a member of the Akatsuki by herself, but he wondered how she could have done it. From what Shikaku had told him, she was not a ninja. Hell, Flare was the powerful young ninja of the pair, and even he did not have the ability to stop him.

'What could have happened between this girl and Hidan?' The old warrior pondered.

Before he could move his thoughts any further, Shikaku placed a hand on his shoulder. He turned to face his old comrade, already knowing what he was going to say,

"Chouza, pay attention to your surroundings. This isn't over. I sense someone moving toward us fast, and they're definitely not backup."