[Author's Note]
Man! You guys are like piranhas!
-shakes reviewer off arm-
SHM, F wasn't even up a whole day, and I already had 3 reviews! 3! I'm so happy! Thank you so much! To express my gratitude, Dr. Akasuna will prescribe drugs for ALL OF YOU!
Sasori: I think you were better off with threats, and... -eyes reviewers- ...I don't think these guys need any drugs.
He's probably right.
Anywho, keep it up guys! You're doing great! ヽ(；▽；)ノ
By the way, I'm SO SORRY that Ch. 2 took so long. It just refused to be written! Adamantly so! But it's done now, and sure, there's not a lot of SasoDei, but it's better than nothing! Background, bitches! ;D
Enjoy! Reviews are great! I didn't listen to much music this chapter, but if you have any suggestions for music that I could write to, DO SHARE! It might show up in one of the chapters! And thanks a million to those of you that have already given me suggestions! They will surely come in handy! And "Mitchi", I have no clue who you are, but thank you for your detailed review! I'd send you a PM, but you're anonymous :(
Okay, on to the chapter. REVIEW OR DIE! :D
So Help Me, Freud — Chapter Two
"Just as no one can be forced into belief, so no one can be forced into unbelief." —Sigmund Freud
The rest of Sasori's day went about as smoothly as his mental hell had gone. He really hated some of his patients.
"I'm telling you, you are not immortal. You can't go around stabbing yourself in the gut." he said for what seemed like the hundredth time. He wasn't sure if he could ever get that in this kid's head.
Across from the psychologist sat a thin, silver-haired teenager. His midsection was wrapped tightly with bandages and his face —or entire body, for that matters— was painted black with white bone designs. He'd been caught in a "ritual" again.
"Like you know any-fucking-thing about me!" he screamed, pointing madly at the red-haired doctor. His crazed expression was almost comical next to Sasori, whose merely blinked at him uncaringly. He really hated this kid.
"I know that mutilating yourself in the name of God is beyond crazy." Sasori yawned, propping his chin up on his palm.
Hidan was one of the patients that Sasori would do ANYTHING to be rid of. He was homicidal, sadistic AND masochistic, devoutly religious —he made the doctor sick. He was foul-mannered and disrespectful, loud and ignorant...he wasn't even clean. He reeked of blood and/or hospital every time Sasori saw him, depending on whether the appointment was scheduled or not. This time was the latter.
"God," the teenager scoffed, running a hand over his slicked back hair. He was talking up at the ceiling, a grin forming on his painted face. "Ain't that fuckin' hilarious, Lord Jashin?" Sasori silently took note of the boy's every move, hoping to find some sort of criteria that could be diagnosed as 'too insane to treat'. The doctor rolled his eyes, finding none.
Sasori was Hidan's therapist for the very reason that he hated the teen: the kid was unbearable. Sasori was the only psychologist in the entire tri-country area that hadn't lost it with Hidan or worse; the one before him had actually tried to throw the teenager out of the window. Hidan had been transferred to him on a prison call.
Despite this though, Sasori took the kid; he was famous in his field for being able to treat unruly patients. He'd gotten Deidara under similar circumstances.
Something in the redhead's subconscious slapped him. Hidan and Deidara were nothing alike. Nothing at all. How could he even suggest that? Hidan was harsh and brutal; Deidara was sweet and gentle, artistic, beau—
Sasori cut off the thought, pushing the blonde out of his mind. Hidan was rambling loudly about his religion, but Sasori was no longer listening, instead dialing the extension to the assistant's desk. He put the phone to his ear.
"Hello?" answered a voice, clearly agitated by Sasori's call. "What do you want? I'm doing invoices."
Sasori wasn't surprised. Kakuzu wrote more invoices than he had appointments to write them for.
"Come get this kid." he said flatly, inspecting his fingernails. "I'm through with him."
A flurry of keystrokes clicked in the background.
"What happened this time?" asked the employee.
Sasori eyed the silver-haired teen, who seemed to be completely immersed in his conversation with the ceiling. He turned his attention back to the phone.
"Stab wound to his midsection."
"Mmm." the man mumbled on the other end. "How bad?"
"Straight through."
Kakuzu winced in his chair.
"'Ritual'?"
Sasori nodded. "Yeah."
The phone was silent for a few moments, save for Kakuzu's keystrokes.
"Hospitals must make a fortune off him." he mused aloud, finishing an invoice for an appointment three months in the future. Sasori gave a silent nod, agreeing without admitting it.
"Come get him. We're transferring him to the asylum in Otogakure."
Kakuzu halted.
"What! But I- we make so much money off of him!" he protested.
"Come get him." Sasori repeated calmly, and he hung up the phone. Kakuzu was right —Hidan did bring a lot of income. His parents paid double the normal rate per session. Despite this though, he was through with that kid. He was not dealing with him anymore, money be damned. Especially not with all the crap that his own mind put him through.
The door of Sasori's office swung open, revealing a tall, tanned man with bright green eyes. His face was mostly covered for the benefits of others (Sasori said that he'd prefer to not have to treat everyone that saw Kakuzu —Kakuzu said it was good business), a scarf and hood hiding the stitched-up Glasgow smile that stretched across the man's face. He wore a black sleeveless shirt and jeans, his arms scarred and muscular. He looked very out of the norm for an employee of a psychologist's office.
But alas, that was Kakuzu, and Sasori only had him around others when he wanted to make sure that someone didn't come back. He usually stayed in his own office, doing the company's finances or writing invoices. Kakuzu loved money.
"Hey kid," Kakuzu said, his voice coarse and gruff. "Come on."
Hidan's head snapped to the large man in the doorway.
"Who the fuck are you?" he yelled, his black face frowning at the intruder. Kakuzu said nothing.
"This is Kakuzu." Sasori explained. "He's been assigned to take you to the Sound Research Facility. I will no longer be seeing you."
Hidan's eyes grew, showing their unnatural shade of violet.
"What?! You can't fucking do that to me! You can't send me off—"
"I can and I will. There's nothing else I can do with you."
The red-haired doctor threw a glance at Kakuzu.
"Get him there however you can."
Kakuzu nodded, an odd glimmer in his eyes, and dragged the teen out of the room. He'd be gone for several days taking Hidan to Otogakure.
Sasori groaned. Hopefully they'd both make it there okay.
Of course, he was more so worried about Hidan. Kakuzu had...unusual methods.
Kakuzu was a war veteran that Sasori had helped through severe PTSD. The man had been taken as a POW by Commander Hashirama Senju's troops and was tortured and interrogated, leading to the many scars and stitches that covered his body. He escaped their clutches after several months, but when he returned home, his village denounced him, disgusted that he hadn't been able to defeat Senju. It was then that Kakuzu snapped a bit.
He left his home and became a mercenary soldier, renting himself out for boundary disputes and assassinations. By the time Sasori found him, he was a wanted man in the bingo book. He had four mask-like tattoos on his back —one for every high-end man he killed— that he said were the mens hearts.
Treating him had been a nightmare.
Still, Kakuzu was a good person with finances. And he was different now. He and Hidan would make it to Sound okay—
"Dr. Sasori, sir—"
Sasori was pulled out of thought by his bumbling assistant, Yuura, stumbling through the door with a armload of paperwork. He could only watch in horror as the young man tripped, sending a cloud of papers flying over the room.
Sasori slammed his palm over his eyes, groaning.
"Gee, Yuura-san, you sure are a klutz, un."
The redhead turned immediately to the door, color draining from his face as he saw the lanky form of the blonde in the doorway. Surely he didn't have an appointment with him today.
"Deidara.." he mouthed, mortified.
"Hey, Sasori no danna."
Okay! SasoDei interaction next time! I hope you enjoyed! Review!