"...no but then you can mix the two, and it makes a highly explosive compound, yeah." Deidara animatedly talked with his hands to demonstrate his point.

Hidan tuned him out most of the time. The guy talked a lot. Wasn't there something in Buddhism about quiet self-reflection or some shit? Or thou shalt not talk about escape plans to people who didn't care until they want to strangle you with your own hair?

How had he never set fire to his hair? Hidan would pay to see that, actually. If the fire was set from the top, would it burn off before it would all catch fire? If it was set from the bottom, would it burn out before it got to the top? Was there a way of catching your entire head on fire without being permanently bald after from the scars? If the scars looked cool, would you care?

Hidan wished he looked cool with a shaved head. He just looked like he would befriend racists, which maybe he would… nah you had to be some special kind of weak bitch to hate one kind of people. Why hate one you could hate all?

But if he had scars all over his scalp, Hidan could get the shaved head and look like a nightmare from under the bed, and that would be cool.

"Are you in, uh?" Deidara flicked his hand out to get Hidan's attention.

"Whatever it is, no." Hidan rolled his eyes.

"What?" Deidara made a face.

"I don't care what stupid shit you came up with this week. I don't want out. I belong here." Hidan didn't just belong here. He wanted to be here to make all these other bastards miserable. Yeah, prison was boring, but it was too good for some of the creeps in here. Prison was like being grounded and put into the corner to 'think about what they had done,' and some of these pricks needed the belt option.

Deidara crossed his arms. "I would think you would want to get out and do more, uh." The little bastard wasn't even a violent criminal. He set the wrong house on fire in a string of abandoned house fires. The last one just happened to be owned by a slum lord that was friends with a politician.

"I don't even think that would work." Kakuzu's eyes flicked up from his cards.

Hidan didn't think it would either, but hey, the guy was some kind of chemist professionally, so if there was someone who could slapdash a bunch of shit in prison and make something explode or melt steel, it would be him.

But there wasn't a reason to leave. What would Hidan do back on the outside? Hide? For what?

Maybe it would be fun to be part of a prison break just for the hell of it. To say he did it, but if they got caught, that was just going to feel like shit.

And who successfully broke out of prison anyway?

Hinata huffed, marking corrections and slamming down on her stapler again.

What was under her father's desk? It was something that kept bothering her. Her father was a big believer in bank lock boxes and private lawyers that kept important documents, so what on earth would he hide under his desk of all places?

Was that what made him upset that she was digging in his desk? If it was… what was in there that was so important?

Hinata left her hand on the stapler.

Hiashi wasn't home. Neji was taking him to a doctor's appointment. They wouldn't be back for hours because there wasn't a single visit that didn't end with her father arguing with the doctor about his pain levels. The doctors didn't think it shouldn't still hurt, but Hiashi insisted it was excruciating, and he popped enough pain medication that Hinata believed him.

Hinata could check, but her father would know if there was so much as a hair out of place. That's just how he was… that's why she was so good at making sure she could put things back without leaving a trace.

Hinata tapped her finger on her stapler. It was probably something silly like the house deed, and if ever asked, he would tell her a story about a businessman that didn't have a hard copy of his deed on him at all times and lost his house because his lawyer put it in his own name. Why did so many of her father's stories when she was a child distrust lawyers if he thought he should have one for everything?

His own brother was a lawyer. Shouldn't that have given them some goodwill?

It could just be his last will, and Hinata didn't need to see it to know that she was probably cut out of it. Hinata could have done something at eight years old to get her cut out of her father's will, but still, why under his desk? If it were a valid will, someone else would have had to be there, and he probably would have it written up by a lawyer, and the lawyer would probably have a copy.

Alright.

Hinata got up and padded to her father's office, which was still open despite his outburst. She expected that he would have locked it, but he must have thought she didn't see it. Or maybe she was making it all about this file when it was nothing, and he was just upset with her for digging through his drawers and possibly messing them up.

Then she would find nothing, and her curiosity would be satisfied, and she wouldn't have to think about it while she stapled papers.

Hinata ducked her head under the desk and swirled the string that was tucked in. Did he plan to get into it more than once? It would be easier to tell if someone looked into it if it was just glue sealed. She slid out the contents, and a key fell into her lap. She rolled it over. It looked like it was a lockbox key. Her father had a ring of them. Why would this one be in here?

This was making less sense, and she hadn't even looked at the documents.

It was a will… but not her father's. It was her grandfather's will. Hiashi's father suddenly died of failing health not long before Hizashi was murdered. But… Hinata remembered that her father and uncle fought because no one could find the will. So… why did he have it?

Hinata didn't need to read far to find out. Her heart lurched into her chest, and she quickly put the whole thing back how she found it and went back to her desk to her cute stickers and scribble writing and tried to get it out of her head.

Hiashi Hyuga had been written out of his father's will… only weeks before his father's death, and only a while later, the only inheritor was murdered after she distinctly remembered him coming to argue about the will.

Maybe Hinata spent too much time with a serial killer on her shoulder, but it all snapped into place, and she couldn't stop the train of thought.

Did her father murder his own brother… for money?

Hidan looked at the third weird picture he had gotten from Hinata. The first with no context in a letter was weird, but the third without a word about the pictures, even after he asked, was really confusing.

The first one was a picture of a man, presumably her uncle, by the label. It was insanely weird of her to send anything from her life. The second was what Hidan thought was another picture of her uncle, just older, but this one was labeled as her father. He still didn't have an updated picture of her, and she was sending him pictures of her family?

Hidan expected maybe a picture of her sister or the cousin that lived with her next but instead came one of her more usual flower drawings with 'What if he knows I know?' written around it. Cryptic.

Now he wanted to know if her cousin looked like her father and uncle, like some kind of weird clone situation.

Was this a prank? Was Hinata capable of a prank?

Hidan held up the picture of her father next to her university picture. Hinata didn't really look like her father at all, maybe around the eyes a little. Hinata must take after her mother, or her mother took on the mailman.

"Why are they numbered?" Kakuzu asked.

Hidan looked down at the pictures. They were. One, three, and four. "I don't know. She's being weird. Maybe she forgot two." But the uncle's picture, labeled with the three, was the first one.

Maybe it was unrelated. Mm, probably not. She was actively ignoring him. She was trying to tell him something, but this was a dumb way to do it. She realized that he was a dumbass, right? He got caught because he re-wore a blood-stained shirt because he didn't realize that the corner store clerk would recognize dried blood.

That was on him. It was a bad neighborhood. They probably saw more blood than he did.

Hidan held up her simple flower drawing with her neat handwriting. What would she send next?