Mephiles: The next chapter is up! Thank you to everyone who read and reveiwed for taking time out to read my story, I hope you enjoy this next chapter as well.

Reliance:

Chapter 3:

Objective

The ground began to buckle and break, the soil and grass frothed as if it had suddenly gone mad, cracking and breaking apart, peeling off of the surface like dead skin from a person's body. The ground quailed and morphed, like a mother in labour, as something seemed to be pushing against it, like a baby untimely ripping through its womb, Zetsu emerged, his long and leafy appendages dripping dirt and grass like an umbrella might drip with raindrops, shielding him from any unwanted filth. A dark and raspy breath emerged from the Akatsuki spy, as if each breath came from within a cage, his leaves parted, revealing a bisected face, merely one of the oddities for which he was so often reviled, and impassive yellow eyes. His black and red cloak billowed around him like the cloud design it so proudly bore, flapping about in the wind like a bird flying against a gale.

Zetsu moved his head slowly from side to side, taking into view everything around him, from the tiniest and most irrelevant of details, to the critical, mission necessary layout of the land. A deep fog shrouded everything in gray vapours, blocking most forms of conventional sight. For Zetsu's eyes this was of little concern, his golden eyes easily saw through the mist and would have put even the greatest of eagles to shame. The morning sun had just risen, and was gradually making its sluggish ascent to the sky, resembling nothing so much as a large and bloated egg yolk, the brilliant rays of light that it shed staining the entire sky with a dull yellow. Not that anyone but Zetsu could see this, to any other person the day would have just seemed a dull and dreary nightmare, the thick and ever-present fog blocking out even the determined efforts of the sun.

Zetsu looked down from his vantage point, perched as he was atop the crest of a small grassy hill, into the natural valley that lay below him, surrounded on all sides by similar hills, giving it the appearance of an enormous bowl. It was the contents of the bowl, rather than the bowl itself, which drew Zetsu's keen attention to rest. Zetsu furrowed his brows, his glowing eyes staring down through the mist at the contents.

Deep within the bowl, shrouded in all the fog, was a tiny little speck of a village, whose few inhabitants were already up and about, hoping to seize the day early so that they could retire early as well, which was only done so that they could wake up early again and repeat the cycle. In Zetsu's opinion this was a completely pointless exercise, ridiculously repetitive, and completely lacking in any form of common sense. "Leave it to humans to create an irrelevant system of life," His darker half muttered a predatory and dismissive edge in his voice. He gave a small sigh, watching intently as the villagers went about their business in the happy manner of those who have little contact with others, completely oblivious to the danger that lurked but a hill above them.

"What the fuck are you sighing for?" Zetsu turned his attention towards the highly offensive inquiry, a small grimace of annoyance crossing his normally calm and controlled white half, Zetsu was fully aware that as S-class missing-nin they were expected to be fearsome and cruel, but in his opinion this still did not merit the type of obscene behaviour which Hidan and, truth be told, most of his companions practised.

Hidan continued his approach flagrantly, either failing to notice or just choosing to ignore the scathing and, potentially lethal, look he was receiving from his leafy compatriot. Hidan strode past him with a snort, his Akatsuki cloak hanging in its customarily loose manner, revealing, unnecessarily in Zetsu's opinion, his well muscled chest as he came to halt a bit ahead of Zetsu, planting all three of his scythes heads into the ground, idly leaning on its haft as he turned to face Zetsu with a vain smirk.

Zetsu did not return the expression, choosing instead to glare poignantly at the Jashin worshipper. Hidan raised a curious eyebrow, a gesture of inquiry at Zetsu's belligerent facial expression. When this failed to yield results of any type from the cannibal, Hidan gave a defeated sort of sigh, his shoulders slumping reluctantly in resignation.

"What's the problem now leafy?" Hidan asked, his voice dripping with mock concern, rolling his eyes in a gesture of apathy. Zetsu bit back a caustic remark, deciding that it would be more prudent to focus on the matter at hand.

"Where's your hat?" He asked, his voice filled with barely restrained fury, his needle like teeth flashing dangerously, an evident warning that even the most stalwart of Shinobi would have backed away from. Hidan merely gave a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders, suddenly losing interest in the Akatsuki Spy and turning his attention down towards the basin village below. He scrounged his face, peering into the fog with all his might, his small violet eyes futilely attempting to make out some or other detail on the village below. Zetsu felt a smirk make its slow way up his dark half, as he watched Hidan's fruitless attempts at mimicking his own eyesight.

"The Village is small, unknown by most," Zetsu supplied, walking to a standing point next to Hidan as they both gazed down in mutual observation of the small town below them, the noises and sounds of people wafting up towards them like an offensive smell. Hidan sneered down, his eyes shining with loathing

"Heathens," He muttered darkly to himself, gripping the handle of his scythe so tight that his knuckles turned white.

"Your concern is not the village, remain focussed on our target, remember Kakuzu's life is depending on us," Zetsu reminded him firmly, but instantly regretted his verbiage, a regret which was soon echoed by Hidan,

"If you're trying to give me an incentive to do this, I'm afraid you're going about it the entirely wrong way, I don't give a donkey's shit about that fucking piece of trash," Hidan said vehemently, turning to Zetsu with a furious glare, hateful bale fires burning deep within his eyes. Silence followed this statement, and the tension which soon followed would have taken something substantially larger and sharper than a knife to cut.

"So who the fuck am I after anyway?"Hidan asked savagely, turning his burning glare from Zetsu down towards the innocent and completely unsuspecting village. Zetsu gave an egnimatic smile before anwsering him...

Kakuzu looked about himself suspiciously, his luminous green eyes analysing the seemingly picturesque scene which lay all around him. Small houses stood quietly, children played happily, chanting in sing song voices as they ran in circles, laughing and giggling all around him, smiling adults watching them with pride, the symbol of Takigakure worn boldly on their protectors. The loud and thunderous roar of the waterfall for which the village was named hung thick in the air around him, several thousand litres of fresh, clean water crashing down upon the ground with all the force of gravity again and again and again. The sight was an oddly nostalgic one, and not even Kakuzu could say that he didn't feel something at the sight of his old home. Granted the feeling was just an immense desire to leave, but it was a feeling nonetheless, and more than Itachi had probably ever had.

'But why? What am I doing here?' he wondered to himself, feeling oddly perplexed, a feeling he was not very familiar with and would prefer not to become familiar with anytime soon. Kakuzu quickly became aware of an advancing gaggle of nauseating children, all laughing and chuckling, making their carefree way past him. He paused, waiting for the screams which he was most certain would come when they saw who he was, preparing himself for the enemy Shinobi who would most certainly swarm him immediately afterwards, he prepared for all these things, but what he didn't prepare for was...

"Good morning sir," the children respectfully intoned, before continuing on their merry way, as if they hadn't just greeted and ignored one of the most fearsome and ruthless ninja of all time. Kakuzu stared after them, completely and absolutely dumbfounded. Had they not noticed his cloak, his scratched headband? Forget that, weren't they scared of his glowing green eyes, his nightmarish and scarecrow like demeanour?

"Makes the heart glow doesn't it?"Kakuzu quickly turned towards his addressor, moving with reflexes honed from years of paranoia to come face to face with the young man, although it was true that by Kakuzu's standards everyone was young. The man was, at most, in his late twenties, his dark hair hanging just below his shoulders, a light blue uniform around him, the forehead protector of Takigakure resting slightly askew on his own forehead. The man beamed with joy, which was a lot harder to do than it is to write, and was usually an exaggeration, but this time Kakuzu really meant it. The man positively glowed with joy and positive emotion; he seemed to radiate waves of compassion and care in all directions, his mouth turned up in the widest grin Kakuzu had ever seen.

"My name is Shibuki," The man offered helpfully despite the lack of inquiry. He grinned broadly and Kakuzu could only watch mutely as he launched into a tirade of conversation, prattling on and on about how wonderful the day was and how adorable the children were and about just how marvellous it was to be alive. Kakuzu felt a small twitch in the corner of his left eye, but it was hidden by his mask, irritation and annoyance flushed him as he continued to stare at the nauseatingly jolly man, who continued on, inured it would seem to the hate laden glances Kakuzu continued to project towards him which was actually quite an astounding feat, and just prattled on and on and on.

"This place is a fucking hellhole," Hidan cursed quietly into the mouth piece of his portable radio, glaring in a demeaning fashion at all the people around him, hoping for an excuse to kill them. His previous question was soon answered by the electronic crackle of static, before Zetsu's distorted voice issued out of the small ear piece.

"That does not matter, remember to keep a low profile, your target is well aware of whom we are and what we do," Zetsu instructed in a calm and superior sounding voice, like a wise old adult chastising an impulsive youth. Hidan grumbled a sombre apology, continuing on his way forwards towards what appeared to be the single largest building, although he supposed that wasn't really much of an accomplishment in a speck like this, in the entire, for lack of better term, village. He eventually came to a halt before the mediocre large building, squinting through the thick fog as he tried to make out the large plaque

"Basin Town Inn," Hidan read out precariously, as if each word had to be carefully enunciated or they might not come out. Hidan lowered his eyes to the Inn's doors, making them out vaguely through the repeatedly mentioned density of the fog. The Jashin worshiper gave a slight shrug as he stepped inside, swinging the door open with one hand, his red scythe still clutched tightly within the confines of his robe.

Hidan found his face blasted with warm air, and he almost choked on the humidity which suddenly overwhelmed him. The Inn was, unsurprisingly, not full of fog, and was definitely not the most elegant of establishments. The creaky timbers that made up the floorboards and roof of the house were exactly that, creaky, and they seemed ready to snap in half if even the slightest bit of pressure were applied. Hidan walked as if on eggshells, slowly making his way towards the bar counter, wrinkling his nose in contempt as it was suddenly assaulted by a combination of foul odours. Hidan sidled up to the counter, flopping down into an open seat lazily, grinning slyly; fully aware of the offensive looks he was receiving from the Inn's regulars. It didn't take long for one of the larger of the group, and noticeably drunker too, to make their way unsteadily towards Hidan, the newcomer and obvious foreigner in their midst. Hidan smiled as he heard the man come to halt behind him, his awkward gait finally coming to a ponderous stop. The man slowly reached out a hand and...

"This won't end well," Zetsu commented to himself atop the hill

He hated him, he simply hated him. Kakuzu didn't know why, but for some reason he really hated that grin, that incessantly happy smile, the way he just went on and on about how wonderful life was. Kakuzu was gripped by a sudden urge to grab him; point out just how wrong he was that every day was filled with an endless stream of nightmares and horrors that he remained blissfully unaware of. That he himself had killed dozens of men, women and children had even betrayed his own village, this village, all for the love of money. Kakuzu felt a strange and sudden pain shoot through him, a short burst of agony and bitterness in his heart, one of them at any rate, and his vision flashed green. He could taste the feeling, a disgusting alkaline in his own mouth, a nasty sort of experience that came and went, leaving Kakuzu feeling...envious, but of what Kakuzu couldn't be sure.

"Don't days like these just make you happy to be alive?"

"Shut up,"

"But the children are so happy and the weather is so fine, isn't it all great?" Shibuki asked, apparently not hearing Kakuzu's grumbled threat.

"Shut up!" Kakuzu growled in an ominous voice resonating and reverberating outwards dangerously. Shibuki, who seemed inured to all this, merely continued to prattle on and on about every single topic he could think of. Kakuzu had to silently marvel about the man's ability to link anything to happiness or the fulfilment of life, it was in its own sort of way frightening.

"I said shut up!" Kakuzu warned again, his fists clenching tight, the cords in his body stretching and drawing themselves taut in anticipation of the bloodshed which followed their master's loss of control.

"You know you should really think about helping out here, I think you'll like it, you'll fit right in," Shibuki advised with an inhumanely wide smile, placing a reassuring hand on Kakuzu's shoulder, as if he was welcoming home a lost child. It was the final straw that broke the camel's back, or, in this case, snapped Kakuzu's infamously short temper.

"SHUT UP!" Kakuzu roared from behind his sclera, emphasising his rage with a powerful thrust of his arm, driving it into Shibuki's chest, and continuing through until there was a large gapping cavity where the chest had once been, blood dripping everywhere.

The man gave a brief scream, his limp and bloodied form flying through the shoddy timbers of the Basin Inn, splinters flying all about him, as well as sticking into him. However he had little time to worry over these wounds, as his terrified eyes were still fixed on the enormous slash running from his pelvis to his throat, and focused on it they would always remain, glassy and lifeless as his heart came to a sudden stop.

Hidan gave an exuberant laugh, relishing in the carnage as one of his assailants, broken bottle in hand, charged him from behind. Hidan bowed his body low, catching the man's midriff with his own shoulder, tossing him over into a heap on the floor with inhumane strength, just in time to swing his three headed scythe in a wide and cruel arc, slashing through the throats of two more would be attackers, leaving them lifeless as they fell to the floor, blood pouring out of them like rain.

Another man tried to ram him with a sharpened stake, but by the time he reached Hidan the only thing he stabbed was empty air. He stood stunned for a moment at Hidan's speed but his astonishment soon turned into no small degree of terror as the Akatsuki seemingly materialised out of nothing behind him, crushing his skull with a heavy blow from his scythe.

Hidan spun away from his latest victim, using the haft of his scythe to block two brawlers and their rusty knives simultaneously. Hidan gave a wolfish grin, baring his teeth at them aggressively, before tossing the two men aside like toothpicks, turning his attention back to whoever was next, scythe gripped tightly.

He didn't have to wait long, as he soon found the sharp edge of a sword coming in line with his neck. He gave a casual motion and dodged the attack; slipping underneath his assailants guard and swinging his scythe up into his stomach and chest, propelling him several feet into the air, before watching happily as he fell to the floor with a satisfactory crunch noise. 'One more for Jashin-sama,'

Hidan turned around slowly, drawing his scythe back into his hand, facing the remainder of the pub's occupants, a cruel smile on his face as he regarded them with an air of amusement, almost like a five year old in a candy shop and, perhaps, this really was the best description.

"So who's next?"He inquired, his infernal sneer still firmly fixed on his face as he raised a single silver eyebrow. The men panicked and ran, making noises akin to frightened pigs to continue the metaphor, scrambling over each other in an attempt to escape the homicidal new comer. Hidan sighed in disappointment, leaning forward on his scythe, his chin rested on his folded hands as he watched them leave. 'That'll teach them not to pick a fight with Akatsuki,' he thought to himself proudly, marvelling at his handiwork. 'Jashin-sama would be proud,

"Hidan look out!"Zetsu's cried, the static warning coming just seconds to late, as Hidan felt the familiar coldness of a finely forged Kunai make its way through the back of his neck, coming out the other side as it cut smoothly through the flesh. Hidan turned with a surprised expression to his mysterious assailants, his small violet eyes wide with an unusual amount of disbelief, blood leaking casually and shamelessly out of his mouth.

"We're next, Akatsuki!"

Each breath was heavy and laboured, struggling to escape from his mouth and into the air. Blood ran slick across his cloak, staining the crimson clouds an even deeper shade of red, coagulating into rivulets and rivers on his form, running down to splatter in a messy puddle on the floor. Kakuzu breathed slowly, watching intently as the blood made is slow way down him on to the ground, a small puddle of blood already forming at the base of his feet.

His green eyes surveyed the carnage before him, the destruction. Dead bodies lay strewn, child and women lay indiscriminately butchered alongside their male counterparts, maimed and mauled as only Kakuzu could. Their eyes were glassy and frozen, fixed on some or other faraway sight, staring but not seeing, blankly at the world around them.

But Kakuzu had not stopped their, no, not even the buildings had been spared. Houses and homes lay, transformed into smouldering rubble, ash strewn ruins and debris littering everything. No two bricks were left upon each other; fires burned maliciously all around, lightening crackling occasionally from one of Kakuzu's masks.

In his hands, gripped tightly between two fists, the corpse of Shibuki slumped, prone and inert, a hole where his heart should have been, and a bloodied mess where half his face would have been. The Forehead protector he had worn, once so bright and polished, was now stained and dulled by blood, oozy, gory blood.

Kakuzu sighed, exhaling slowly, as if worried that if he did it to fast he might just hurt himself, roughly throwing the useless cadaver from his grip, watching with contentment as it fell to the ground with an organic plop, resting within an ever-growing pool of blood. Kakuzu smirked as he looked down at the corpses strewn in and amongst each other. 'He loves everyone so much, so he can just die with them to,' He thought to himself sadistically.

Kakuzu walked over to the stream, crouching down to stare at it, the roar of the enormous waterfall, which was both the centre and source of life for the village, thundered far above him, crashing into the ground, filling the large and clear stream. Teal eyes stared upwards from the waters mirrored surface into a set of equally ominous ones. Kakuzu sighed, closing his eyes in concentration as he regained his breath, dipping one hand in the river as he began the troublesome process of cleaning himself of all the blood and gore he had accumulated.

Kakuzu watched disinterestedly as the blood washed from his cloak and threads, dripping down into the water, shading it red and crimson, leaking everywhere.

Kakuzu spun around in alarm, lashing out with his foot, as he felt something grip his ankle. There was a horrid squelching noise as his kick connected with his assailant, sending it flying into the pile of copses behind him. Kakuzu stood frozen, a strange feeling of anxiety sharpening his senses. His eyes remained frozen on the mass of corpses, looking desperately for where the mysterious gripper had come from, and then, the corpses started to move.

Kakuzu watched horrified as the mound of dead cadavers began to stir, to move and groan, transfixed as the previously inert and motionless bodies began to quite visibly move in a very strange manner. Dead people are not meant to move, and, despite the fact that he was a living walking piece of proof that death was not as great a boundary as some thought, he still wasn't comfortable with the idea of his victims returning right after he killed them, they could at least have the decency to return once he was gone.

Right there and then a very strange thing began to happen. Kakuzu had the sudden urge to runaway, a sudden blinding, terrified desire to flee and never come back. It was like an obstinate little thorn sitting in his heart, all of them, driving itself deeper and deeper into them, grinding away at his very being.

Kakuzu turned to flee but he couldn't. It wasn't because he didn't want to, oh quite the contrary, he desperately wanted to be anywhere else but here at the moment, but his feet wouldn't move, and as he looked down at them he realised why. Clutching at his heels, vapid grins and glassy eyes staring up at him, the corpses of the fallen were holding him in place, their arms grappling him, giving him no chance to escape.

Panic consumed him, raw unashamed fear and terror for reasons far beyond him. It wasn't that he was scared of the copses per say, he had after all fought with far more terrifying things in his life, but it disturbed every inch of him, they just wouldn't die. He wanted to escape he had to escape, something about this place was somehow intrinsically wrong, everything was wrong. Everywhere he looked all he could see were the bodies coming closer and closer, dragging their bloody and mauled carcasses along, and coming to him. Faced with such an unfamiliar feeling Kakuzu did the only thing he could think of.

There was a horrid wrenching noise as his back exploded into a writhing and squirming mass of black coils, four vaguely animal faces emerging alongside his, in their mouths elemental Chakra flashing violently. Like the panic now inside of him the raw Chakra flashed and crackled erratically, the energy dancing in strange and eldritch arcs of light. His eyes were blinded by fear, a feeling he had almost never felt in his life.

"Die!"

Mephiles: The next chapter will be up as soon as possible, as usual reviews and advice will be heartly appreciated, stay well and enjoy my story please.