"Won't be long,
Won't be long,
I'm almost here.
Watch me cry,
All my tears."
-Face My Fears, Kingdom Hearts III
A/N: Intended to be read after chapter 29.
Hidan watched them leave.
That asshole Yahiko, held up by Nagato. Konan, the paper flower in her hair droopy and wilted. Oka, who turned back to wave at him. Hidan responded with his middle finger, raising it high in the air. And it made her smile.
She was so weird.
He faced away from them, wiping the smile off his face. He shoved his hands in his pockets, tracing the symbol on his headband with his thumb.
A small part of him wanted to go with them. He probably would hate the rain and the cold, but it would be easier.
He couldn't stop himself from thinking about the last time he was on this path. He, Chiharu-sensei, Junichiro, and Mina had been heading for the border.
"Fuck," Hidan muttered. Damn it, he wasn't going to cry.
They'd walked at first, and Chiharu-sensei passed the time by humming a stupid song to himself. Junichiro was serious the whole time and eyed the geysers like something would jump out of them at any second, the asshole.
No one was here to distract him or make him feel better.
"No. Don't you fucking dare," Hidan growled at himself as tears blurred his vision.
Mina would mumble to herself in her sleep, and he always picked the branch farthest from her to tie himself to so he wouldn't be woken by her bullshit.
Water dripped from his chin. Hidan crouched, swiping furiously at his eyes, but he couldn't stop. "Shit," he hiccuped. "Fuck. Shit."
He hadn't been alone since they died. Not even in Suisai. Someone else was always around when he started to think about what happened. If it wasn't Yahiko, Oka, or Konan, it was Haruto or Hanako. Haruto never said shit to him, but hearing him move around was enough, or listening to Hanako mutter as she boiled tea leaves.
"Fuck!" Hidan shouted.
He cried until he was exhausted.
.
.
.
Hidan looked up at the village gate.
It was the same as when he left. It shouldn't have been. It should've changed while he was gone somehow, but it didn't. It was the same old shitty gate.
Takkao stared at him with wide eyes, his mouth hanging open. His left arm was in a sling. His right twitched down to a pouch strapped to his leg. "Hidan?" he asked cautiously.
Hidan tried to hide all evidence of his tears, but he knew his eyes were red, and the front of his shirt was damp. "Where the fuck is Atsushi?"
Takkao frowned. "Your sensei—when he failed to check in at the outpost when he was supposed to, the Chief formed a search team to look for him. Atsushi volunteered to lead it. He hasn't come back yet."
Hidan didn't respond. He was too tired. He walked forward, only for Takkao to step in his way. Hidan stared up at him.
"I can't let you into the village," he said. "Not until I can confirm you're really you."
There was a lot Hidan could've said to that, a hundred curses on the tip of his tongue. "I'm going to piss on your leg," he decided.
Takkao blinked.
"I'm in a shitty mood and I haven't pissed all day," Hidan went on.
"Hidan, this is standard protocol," Takkao said. "All shinobi returning from active missions—"
Oh, he thought he was joking?
Hidan, ignoring the rest, promptly reached down to unzip his pants. Takkao grabbed his arm before he could make it, grimacing as he jostled his sling.
"How does Atsushi deal with you all the time?" Takkao asked, shaking his head. He let go and stepped aside. "Go on, before I change my mind."
Without another glance at him Hidan strolled inside.
People stared at him as he walked past, gasping and murmuring to each other. He heard the word 'Zabuza' more than once.
He ran his thumb over the symbol on his headband again.
It wasn't like in Suisai, where people bowed or admired him (despite doing jack shit). The whispers were always meaner in Yugakure.
He looked back to tell Oka that they had always been stuck up assholes, but no one was behind him.
His mouth shut and he faced forward.
.
.
.
His house was a fucking mess.
He stood in the doorway, looking from the bunched-up shirts and underwear on the floor, to the old cups and plates piled in the sink crusted with old food. His nose crinkled at the smell of expired meat.
He heard shuffling from further inside and his mom stepped out into the open in only a robe and socks. "I didn't fucking say you could come in—" she cut herself off with a gasp. Her eyes widened. "Hidan?" she asked quietly.
She looked older, with deep stress lines around her nose that hadn't been there when he left. He didn't move. She shuffled closer and got down on her knees in front of him, shaking hands hovering around his face.
Hidan could've left this shitty village and all the assholes in it behind. He could've stayed in Suisai, where they respected him, or joined the Akatsuki.
He only didn't because he couldn't let his mom think he was dead.
She cupped his face like he was a baby, searching his eyes, and Hidan looked away, because he was tired of crying. He heard her sniff, and then he was pulled forward and squished into a tight hug, his head tucked against her neck.
"You scared the shit out of me," she sobbed.
Hidan let out a quiet, shaky breath and hugged her back.
She squeezed him hard. "You shit," she said. "I thought—don't ever do that to me again. You fucking hear me?"
He could've fallen asleep right there with his head against her shoulder.
She pulled back, holding onto him with one hand, the other wiping her cheeks. "Go get fucking changed," she instructed. "I'll—" she glanced back at the fridge. "Fuck, I don't have any pork." She stood and strode towards the kitchen. "You better not be hiding any fucking injuries."
Hidan yawned and padded to their room. He was so fucking exhausted.
The bed was unmade, half the sheets were on the floor, and there was a sock in the corner too big to be his mom's.
Hidan grabbed a pillow, found a clean spot on the floor, and passed out.
ホーム
He woke to sizzling and cursing.
It made him feel better.
Hidan wiped drool off his mouth and stood, pulling off his shirt. He stared at himself in his mom's vanity mirror, tracing a finger over the spot where Namikaze stabbed him. There was no scar, no unblemished skin, no evidence that it ever happened.
Still, if he thought about it too hard, he felt the pain.
Yanking on an old white shirt (it was tight on him, not quite covering all his stomach) and shorts, Hidan left the room. His sloth toy sat on the floor where he left it.
He kicked it down the hall.
The sizzling stopped, and he saw why when he stepped out into the living room/kitchen and saw Chief Sugiyama standing in the doorway.
He didn't look as old as Abhuraya did, but he was still old. He wore a red hakama with big sleeves, the skin at the corners of his eyes wrinkled.
Hidan absently scratched his chest as his mom bowed deeply, holding the door open. "It's an honor, Chief Sugiyama," she said, and her polite tone almost made him snort. "I would've prepared something had I known you were coming in advance."
At least she was wearing pants.
Sugiyama smiled. "There would've been no need. I only came to speak briefly with young Hidan. Word of his return spread quickly, you see."
"Of course. I understand," his mom said, her own smile tight.
Sugiyama glanced at him, but Hidan didn't bow. He turned and went to the kitchen, following the smell of pork and ramen.
His mom snagged his arm, her other hand shoving his head down into a clumsy bow. Instinct made his hand clench around the handle of an imaginary kunai.
"I deeply apologize for his behavior, Chief Sugiyama," she said, pushing his head down further. "Please forgive him. He doesn't understand all you do to help the village and our people."
Hidan swatted her away, ignoring her sharp look, and shoved his hands in his pockets. "So, what do you want?" he asked the older man.
He met Sugiyama only once before, when he appeared to give a speech to his class after graduation. Hidan remembered none of it.
His mom's eyes promised murder.
Sugiyama stared at him, folding his hands in his sleeves. His smile was plastic. "The youth today are quite... bold, aren't they?" he asked.
His mom bowed again. "I apologize, Chief Sugiyama."
He didn't look at her. Hidan still didn't bow.
"Very well," Sugiyama finally said. He stepped into the house and his mom closed the door. "I assume that, should Chiharu be found, he'll have passed on?"
That was the last thing Hidan wanted to think about. He looked back at the bowl sitting on the back counter, strips of cooked pork left on a cutting board next to it.
"And the scroll?" Sugiyama asked, breezing past his defiant silence.
"Fucking Konoha," Hidan answered. He picked up the still-warm bowl, even though it barely had any pork pieces floating on top and sat on the floor.
Sugiyama looked disappointed, but not surprised. His smile faded. "And how did you survive when the rest of your team could not?"
Hidan slurped up a mouthful of noodles, broth, and meat. Fuck, he missed pork ramen. He swallowed. "I killed the bastards."
Sugiyama paused, eyes sharper, and his mom looked at him in shock. She squeezed her wrist to stop her hand from shaking. Hidan kept his eyes on the bowl.
"In order to fully understand the situation I need a full account of what happened between your team and Konoha," Sugiyama said when he didn't elaborate. "Should Konoha decide to retaliate, the village has to be prepared."
Hidan wrapped noodles around his chopsticks and tilted his head back, dropping the mass in his mouth. He didn't answer.
His mom moved around him. He glanced back, watching her quietly cut the pork slices into small squares.
"Anything you can remember will be extremely helpful," Sugiyama added.
What he remembered?
He heard Mina begging, pleading for her life. The metallic taste of blood in his mouth.
His chopsticks snapped in half. Hidan stared at them.
His mom knelt next to him, scraping pork squares off the cutting board and into his bowl. "You're always such a little shit when we have guests," she whispered, forcing his fingers to uncurl so she could take the broken chopsticks.
"You may be young, but you swore to protect the village when you became a shinobi. The information you have is critical to our next move, and many deserve to know what happened to their loved ones," Sugiyama said, his voice carefully even.
Hidan frowned. Why wouldn't this old bastard just piss off?
Retaliation? Duty? Why should he give a shit about any of that?
This village didn't give a damn about him and he didn't give a damn about it.
There were only a handful of people that ever cared about him and three of them were dead.
His frown deepened. But he wouldn't be able to eat in peace while this old fuck was pestering him.
His mom handed him a fresh pair of chopsticks, poking his head hard before she moved away.
"What the fuck do you think happened?" Hidan finally snapped. Broth stains covered his shirt. "Those green bastards jumped us. Fucking shit."
"How long were they following you?" Sugiyama asked patiently.
Hidan chewed on a pork square wrapped up in noodles. "The border, I don't fucking know," he said, mouth full.
Sugiyama looked deeply troubled. "And what happened exactly when they 'jumped' you?"
Hidan glared at his half-empty bowl. "Those fuckers took us somewhere else," he answered. "Tied us up and shit."
Sugiyama frowned. "Where they proceeded to execute your teammates?"
Chiharu-sensei, desperate for them to be spared, even if it meant they would leave him to die.
Hidan filled his mouth with noodles so he didn't have to answer.
Sugiyama seemed to fill in the blanks, anyway. "What happened after?"
Hidan burped at him and his mom looked appalled. She swatted the back of his head.
Sugiyama's expression didn't change.
"Dick," Hidan spat. "One of the bastards was a soft bitch and you can fuck right off if you think I'll tell you the rest."
"And after that?"
"The fuck do you mean—"
"You were gone for far longer than expected," Sugiyama cut him off, eyes hard. "Chiharu's failure to check in on time meant that you should've returned earlier, not later."
The Akatsuki. Suisai.
Hidan lifted the bowl and chugged the broth until only a small circle at the bottom was left. "I got fucking lost," he eventually answered. "And I'm not fucking stupid. I had to hide and cover my tracks and shit. You think it's easy to do that, asshole? So, what if I killed two bastards? Doesn't mean I could take on a fucking team of them."
"When you entered the village, you were noted to be remarkably clean considering the circumstances," Sugiyama pointed out.
Hidan ate the last pork square in the bowl. He swallowed and gave Sugiyama a dead-eyed stare. "Do you know what a fucking river is?"
Sugiyama stared at him for another moment, then shifted the weight of his gaze away. He inclined his head. "That's all I need for now. Perhaps when we next meet, you'll be more knowledgeable on what I do here," he said. "Considering the complications of your mission, you'll temporarily be taken off active duty."
"Don't—" a hand went over his mouth.
"I'll make sure he learns, Chief Sugiyama. You have my word," his mom promised, bowing a third time. She kept a tight hold on him.
Sugiyama made a sound of affirmation and left.
Hidan ducked away from her as the door shut. "Fuck him," he shouted.
His mom pinched his ear and shook him. "Stubborn shit. Sugiyama—"
"You bitch," he hissed.
"—is the Chief," she emphasized. "He has more power than we ever fucking will. He could make our lives hell if he wanted to, and we can't do shit about it. Stop talking to him like an asshole!"
"Maybe if you weren't such a bitch, I wouldn't be an asshole," Hidan yelled back.
His mom yanked him down and he yelped as she tried to get him in a headlock. "Say that again, little shit."
He could've overpowered her if he wanted to. She used to be an active kunoichi, but that was way before he was born. She pulled harder, tightening her grip.
He called her every name he could think of, but he didn't fight back.
闘争
Hidan was taken off active duty for three weeks.
On the fourth week, he joined a squad of three chunin and was given a mission to investigate a report of an injured squad from Kumo hiding out in Bamboo Village. If true, they were to kill them all.
Only two of them came back.
深い
Hidan tilted his head back to stare at the village gate, hands deep in his pockets.
He stood beneath it, shirtless, bandages wrapped around his lower back, covering a deep gash that ached when he lifted his arms.
He tilted his head to look at an empty spot on the right side of the gate and his already shit mood turned shittier.
Takkao stood to his left, left arm still in a sling. He waved with his right. "Look who finally woke up," he greeted.
Hidan didn't respond right away. "That piece of shit is dead, isn't he?"
Takkao's smile faded. He leaned back against the wall, looking suddenly tired. "Seems so," he answered.
Hidan punched the wall. Pain pulsed down his knuckles and, when he pulled back, they were bruised and red. He grimaced at the sharp pinch at his back. "That bastard."
He was sick of feeling like he was about to cry.
"It's been quiet around here," Takkao admitted, looking out at a hot spring. "There aren't enough shinobi to spare for guard duty, so it's been just me. I think I prefer it that way."
Hidan felt wetness on his cheek and slapped it away. He turned and strode away.
暗い
A mission to the Land of Fire, where a group of refugees accidentally stumbled upon their camp in the middle of the night and had to die.
A mission to the Land of Water, where an unmarked boat was stealing from caravans along the border of Hot Water. They killed everyone on board.
A bodyguard mission to the Land of Lightning that ended in bloodshed, the death of their client, and no chance of peace between their countries.
Body after body after body.
海
Hidan sat on the floor, a plate of spear ribs in front of him.
He was still wearing the bottom half of his uniform. His mom forced him to take off his blood-smeared flak jacket and dirty boots when she saw him in the doorway.
He licked brown sauce off his fingers, pausing when he heard his mom cough behind him, shaking and wheezing so hard she had to clutch the counter to stay upright.
His eyes narrowed. "Stop being a bitch and go see the doctor already."
She wiped her mouth with a napkin. "Why don't you mind your own fucking business?" she managed.
Hidan sucked on his pointer finger. "Hard to when you're spitting all over my damn food."
She washed her hands and came close enough to drop a fist on top of his head, grinding her knuckles into his hair. "Ungrateful ass," she said. "Why don't you fucking shut up and focus on stuffing your face? I didn't have to make all that shit for you."
Hidan tried to push her off but she only grabbed his wrist with her free hand. His other was occupied with a half-eaten rib. "Says the dick hole," he grunted.
His mom shoved him and, while he struggled not to drop the rib or touch the dirty floor with his sticky fingers, stole his plate.
"The fuck? Give it back," he shouted.
"Stop being a little shit or I'm throwing it all away."
"Like hell you are!"
She stood. "You can eat them out of the fucking trash then. Or would you prefer to pick them off the floor like a damn dog?"
Hidan opened his mouth, looked all the ribs still on the plate, and shut it.
"That's what I fucking thought," she said. She gave it back, slowly lowering herself, a hand clutching her swollen knee.
Hidan glared at her, mumbling curses between bites.
さえ
"From this day forward, Yugakure will no longer be an active participant in the war."
Sugiyama stood outside of the mission office on a raised platform, hands folded together in his hakama sleeves. His forehead was deeply wrinkled, his back beginning to bend in a 'u' shape.
The shinobi crowded in front of him exchanged confused glances. Worried whispers broke out as Sugiyama let the announcement sink in.
Hidan, standing at the back, counted thirty people total.
"That means, effectively, that the village will no longer accept missions outside of our country. Missions that are accepted will be requests made by the daimyo himself," Sugiyama explained. "Our defenses will be maintained, of course, but Yugakure will no longer offer combat-related services in any capacity."
The crowd stared at him in stunned silence.
It took a moment for Hidan to realize what that meant.
What it meant for him.
"Our Academy will be disbanded, and the youth will no longer have to attend formal training."
Voices rose around him, questions and protests blending into a symphony of chaos.
"What the fuck," Hidan said.
Sugiyama couldn't do that.
The Academy taught him how to fight.
They made him kill.
They turned him into a shinobi without ever asking for his consent and now they suddenly wanted him to stop?
Hidan was never taught him to do anything else.
Who was he if he wasn't a shinobi of Yugakure?
Why did Chiharu-sensei, Mina, and Junichiro die if the shinobi system would just be abandoned?
"This is done in the interest of the village's future," Sugiyama said over the crowd, and the noise died down. "We simply cannot afford to continue a war with both Konoha—"
What was the point of all the blood on his hands, all the missions he went on?
Why did so many people have to die just for the village to take the coward's way out?
"—and Kumo with our remaining forces—"
What was the point?
"You can't fucking do this," Hidan shouted.
Those closest to him stared at him in shock or disapproval, but Hidan didn't give a damn.
Why weren't they asking why too?
If they were pulling out of the war then-then Atsushi died for no reason.
Sugiyama looked at him and Hidan saw a flash of recognition, the downward twist of his lips.
Hidan flat-out refused to respect a man who made all the lives lost to the war mean nothing.
This wasn't fucking fair.
"This was not an easy decision, but a necessary one," Sugiyama finally responded, his tone full of scorn. "Should the village continue its current course, there will be no shinobi left alive to see the end of the war. Is that the future you prefer to see?"
It wasn't, but this wasn't the right way either.
Why let it go on for so long?
How the shit was he just supposed to stop? He bled for Yugakure, he'd taken the lives of innocents and the guilty alike, and now, what, none of that mattered?
People started to turn away from him as Sugiyama wordlessly dismissed him, pity or mockery in their eyes.
Hidan didn't have a solution, sure, but fuck this.
"Fuck you!" he yelled.
Sharp looks were thrown his way, equal parts disgust and anger, but Hidan had been ignoring looks like that his whole life. He wasn't about to start caring now.
An older shinobi turned and grabbed the collar of Hidan's flak-jacket in his fist, jerking him forward. "Show some respect," he spat. "That's your Chief."
Hidan shoved him as hard as he could and the old man fell. "Touch me again and I'll cut off your hands and shove them up your ass," he shouted.
More people turned to yell at him.
Bolstered by his confidence, a female near the front called Sugiyama a bitch. A man asked how he was supposed to feed his family. Another rushed forward, yelling threats, and went down under a tangle of hands and feet. Another woman tried to pull people off him and was pushed back.
A fist was thrown from somewhere in the middle and it dissolved into a brawl. People tried to intervene, to break it up, and were dragged down into the fistfight.
Hidan's arm was grabbed. He punched his assailant and she stumbled back, clutching her face.
Three more shinobi came at him. He got a few good hits in before they wrenched his arms behind his back. "You cock suckers," he yelled as he was shoved to the ground, feeling the scrape of gravel against his cheek. He kicked at them until they pinned his legs.
"I'll piss on all of you," he threatened. He saw disgust flit over a few faces, but they didn't let him go.
Later, when the fight was contained and the injured hauled off, they dragged him home, having tied his wrists and ankles with wire. He screamed every curse he knew, but they only tossed him roughly down on his doorstep and turned their backs to him.
"Someone needs to teach that thing his place," one muttered.
"Demon," another said, glaring at Hidan.
"Suck my dick," Hidan shouted back.
"That monster should be locked up," a third added.
"Did you hear about what he did to his teammates?" someone else whispered.
Hidan wriggled violently. "Come back and say that to my face, shit wipe!"
They didn't acknowledge him.
After, a message would be delivered to him from Sugiyama, telling him he was banned from any and all future meetings.
もっと深く
A week later, the mission's office closed for good.
With a plummeting demand for gear and weapons, most of the shops in the market that catered mainly to shinobi quickly followed.
Two teams of four jonin were stationed around the perimeter of the village. The rest were left to find civilian jobs and assimilate into their forced state of peace.
Hidan tried (the only person who gave him the time of day was a senile old crone who wanted her house painted. She didn't take too kindly to being told to fuck off when she tried to correct the way he applied the paint).
The civilians feared him, the shinobi didn't like him, and Hidan would be damned if he was going to beg these people for anything.
He shouldn't have bothered.
He could count the number of people that openly protested Sugiyama's mandate on one hand, but ultimately, nothing changed.
A/N: ホーム - Home, 闘争 - Struggle, 深い - Deep, 暗い - Dark, 海 - Sea, さえ - Even, もっと深く - Deeper
This chapter takes place over two years.
I tried very hard to make Sugiyama reasonable.