A/N: Sorry for being MIA.
Part II
As he had grown older, Kakuzu had grown to dislike the wind. While harmless for the most part, it was what the wind carried that Kakuzu had a problem with, a streamline of nostalgia that uncovered what should be remained hidden.
Today the autumn wind carried the scent of tea, and led him to the old teahouse he used to visit many times in his youth.
What were the odds that only a few days after the first autumn rain that he'd find himself back in his village? Had he been younger, Kakuzu would have told himself that he had no choice but to be here and that the words of the Akatsuki's leader were absolute.
But Kakuzu was old.
And he had learned begrudgingly with time that there was always a choice.
That was the only reason why he followed the autumn wind to Hitomi's teashop.
It still stood where it had always stood, and it looked the way it had always looked: the black tile roof, the wooden frame with white walls, the dark green vines that wound their way about the building, the crookedly placed potted plants that lined the front, the open windows. And while the customers dressed rather differently than from how they used to, they still seemed to enjoy the teashop as they've always had.
Yes.
The shop was the same as always.
Just then the wind grew stronger, pushing him, urging him to move forward.
And so Kakuzu found himself entering the teashop.
The first time he had entered the teashop those many years ago he was only 16. He wasn't particularly fond of tea at the time, but he did like being alone, away from his teachers, his teammates, and most of all his brother Keiga.
That day had been a slow day for teashop. So when Kakuzu had opened the door, causing the bells to chime, the girl who had been sweeping the floors beamed at him and urged him to come inside.
She didn't hesitate in taking his hand to lead him to a seat.
She didn't hesitate in sitting down with Kakuzu to keep him company.
She didn't hesitate in striking up light conversation.
Her voice was as warm as the tea she brewed, just as her presence was as calming and her eyes were just as loving.
"I'm Hitomi," she had said with a smile as bright as the sunlight that had streamed through the open windows.
"Kakuzu," he had grunted in reply, admittingly slightly annoyed.
The sound of a teacup being set down at his table snapped Kakuzu out of his thoughts. The waitress asked if he needed anything else, but he didn't even bother to answer, already taking a sip of his green tea. Taken aback she left, leaving Kakuzu alone once again.
The tea was hot like always, and just as bitter.
Just like him…
"I'm just realistic," Kakuzu remembered telling Hitomi one day.
She had laughed at him and said, "Then I guess I'm just a dreamer."
Kakuzu set his tea cup down with a little more force than necessary, as though he was trying to stamp out the memory. The sound alerted some of the other customers, and the previous waitress was hovering around him prepared to come to his aid whenever he saw fit to call for it.
Annoying.
The waitress was annoying, as were the customers. They were constantly talking, laughing and sipping their damn tea way too loud. And the tea was not the same. This tea was too bitter.
He was too bitter.
Then the wind came, the cold autumn wind. It blew through the tea house and an oddly melodic clattering noise followed it. Kakuzu's ears perked at the sound, and he couldn't keep his eyes from following the noise to the wind chime hanging at the window.
It was the wind chime Hitomi had made from the kunai Kakuzu had brought for her.
The kunai no longer had the shine that they used to have, rusting with age, and they certainly didn't sound as…pretty…as they used to, but in its sound Kakuzu could almost hear Hitomi's laugh.
And then it stopped.
The autumn wind. The kunai wind chime. And Hitomi's laughter.
Silently Kakuzu got up and left the teahouse, without paying of course. He had a job to do, and he had wasted enough time as it was.
Time was money.
Time is money.
And he had spent it on a ghost of a memory.