"All that is left is just to decide on a wish,

I want to know who that person was,

And why he did everything for me,

Toiling away,

working hard to make me a 'heart',"

-Kokoro, Lollia

There was blood on the sand.

It was dry, all over Maho's hands, smeared up his arms, and his sleeves were bunched around his shoulders. His cloak was in a heap behind him.

I stopped next to him and followed his wide-eyed stare to the two bodies in front of him.

Hachirou was pale, shorts and shirt wet, strands of short hair stuck to his face. His lips were blue.

Sen was missing part of her right leg below the knee. She was soaked, too.

"Deaden the cutaneous nerve," Maho muttered, barely audible.

He'd used a scroll as a barrier between the wound and the sand, dug a hole for most of the blood to drain into, and moved the amputated part of Sen's leg out of his line of sight.

It was tinted a vague purple, but darker around his toes.

Maho was squeezing a needle tied with thin wire in his other hand.

"What happened?" I asked.

He didn't hear me. "Stop the bleeding as fast as possible," he said, like a mantra, but his hands didn't move.

I moved around him and knelt next to Hachirou, pressing two fingers to his neck. He was cold, but his pulse was fast and hard.

Maho dropped the senbon suddenly, reached into his pouch in a stiff, automatic movement, and pulled out a roll of bandages. "Sever and close the posterial tibal artery," he said.

I watched him wrap what was left of Sen's leg, red bleeding through the white, but it wasn't fresh.

Her blond hair was cut shorter than I remembered.

"Cut the small saphenous and anterior tibal vein," Maho murmured, pulling out a kunai to cut the end of the bandage in two so he could tie it. "Then the tibalis anterior muscle."

I waited until he was done, and then I reached over and poked his cheek.

Maho blinked, and then his hands started to shake.

I didn't look back when I heard sandals crunch the sand behind me, but it sounded like Hidan.

"Not right now," I said, and he stopped.

"What?" he asked, like he wanted to laugh. "You want to take a rain check on me killing you?"

I closed my eyes, stood, and looked at him. "I still don't understand you."

"That—it was my first time I had to do anything like that," Maho said in a breath, like the words fought to tumble out of his mouth.

The most healing I'd seen him do was on bruises and sprains when we came back from Fire.

I thought to say that Naga would've helped him if he went and found him first, but I didn't know if he would've. Because sooner or later Maho would've had to do this, or something like it, alone.

Hidan eyed Hachirou and Sen in the silence.

Still— "You didn't look for Naga."

"There wasn't—there wasn't time," Maho said, and shuddered. "They were in the water and—" he stopped.

I waited for him to catch his breath, glancing at Hidan as he ran a hand through his hair.

The blades of his scythe pointed at the sky. "Move, cash cow," he said. "You're lucky, really, that that red-headed bastard is such a bastard."

"You're stronger," I mentioned. He held the scythe loosely, like it didn't weigh anything.

"Do you ever stop being annoying?" he asked, twisting a finger in his ear.

"No."

"I didn't want to risk a chakra transfusion," Maho muttered, bringing his knees up to his chest as he stared at Sen. "I did what I could."

I glanced at Hachirou again, and it painted a picture. They were chakra exhausted and wet. I thought of them finding me the day Naga made it rain, how they called Hidan a Lord.

I imagined them trying to water walk or trying to manipulate it. Except they didn't have a sensei to warn them, or—

"You pulled them out of the water," I realized.

Maho shuddered again. "Only Sen," he said. "Hachirou was—the currents pushed her back onto shore. I don't know how long she was there."

I looked at her leg again. Hours, at least.

"It's just her leg?" I asked, ignoring Hidan's tch.

Maho looked away from him. "She was in the shallows."

She was lucky. Lucky that it was only her leg that went cold and dead.

"There was water in both of their lungs, but more in his," he said, slower. "Like he tried to pull her out, couldn't, and panicked."

I looked at Hachirou again and understood why Naga wanted Joji and Mamoru-sensei to run the Academy. So this wouldn't happen.

How many more little kids wanted to be like us, but didn't have a Matsu or a Yahiko?

"You should come with us," I told Maho. He'd done everything he could for them.

"I can't—" Maho said, his voice trembled. "They need to be monitored, or he could wake up and reopen the wound, or there could be complications from being in the water for so long—"

I flared my chakra, wasting enough that Hidan blinked.

"Namekuji or Naga'll come and get them," I said. They'd think something happened, but I'd apologize later.

How much help would Maho be to them when he couldn't even look at his hands?

"Or Yahiko," I added, since Hidan felt it. I didn't think I should move them either, or that Hidan would wait around while I did.

Maho looked at me but didn't speak.

"She's still alive because of you, isn't she?" I asked.

I watched him push himself up, pick up his cloak, and spread it out over them. He didn't answer, but he scratched at the blood on his arms and shuffled closer.

"You shouldn't try to kill her," he muttered.

Hidan ignored him.

.

.

.

I watched Hidan loop a cable twice around his wrist. He shook his head as he pulled it tight. "You don't know how long I've been waiting for this."

I didn't move. "Do you really think you can kill me?"

Hidan grinned as he picked his scythe up and pointed it at me. "We'll see how arrogant you are when I'm done with you."

I hummed at that, looking at where Maho knelt on all fours in the shallows, trying not to be sick—

I took a step back, blades cutting the air in front of my cloak, and glanced at Hidan. "You wanted Maho out of the way because Naga wouldn't teach you anymore if you killed him," I reasoned.

I watched his pupils dilate and shrink as I ducked under another slash. "Shut up," he said.

"Which means you don't really think you can kill me, either," I told him.

He didn't smile, and he didn't laugh. "Shut the hell up," he said, louder.

I rolled out of the way and the blades gouged the ground where I'd been and tossed sand around. I stayed crouched, "Doesn't seem like he's used Sage Mode against you yet."

He stared at me, and I thought of telling him that his Killing Intent reminded me of the geysers in Hot Water, of how much angrier it would make him.

It was a constant heat always waiting for an excuse to boil over.

"Shut the hell up and die already!" he shouted and threw the scythe.

I watched it go wide, towards Maho, but I didn't track it more than that, and that seemed to piss him off more.

I tilted my head back. "You're so confusing."

He was making the dog sign when I looked down, spitting small water cylinders at me. I made the sign back at him as the cylinders spun towards me. I still didn't move.

He'd already cut off the jutsu after three cylinders when I did, water dripping from his mouth as he gripped the cable and yanked it back. The line went taut behind me, curving, aimed to hit me in the back.

I leapt straight up and I heard his laugh. The cylinders thudded into the sand and Hidan grabbed more of the cable, shortening the length, and jerked it up.

It sailed up through the sand shower, and maybe if I was someone else he might've nicked my leg, or outright stabbed me with the longest blade, because I couldn't twist fast enough to avoid it.

I held my right hand up and it stopped, the air between me and it rippling for a second before it flew backwards and hit the ground hard enough to make clouds of sand.

I landed on my feet and—

And felt a hand grab the collar of my cloak. I stared at Hidan as he leaned down and yanked me close to his face.

Why did I let him—?

"Why the fuck do you care?" he asked, low and full of malice. "What the shit do you know me? About Jashinism? You're not so stupid that you think a week-long trip to nowhere as kids makes any of this make sense, or are you just that fucked in the head?"

I dug my nails into his wrist until blood stained my fingers. "That's not why."

Hidan shook his head. His eyes glittered. "You think that hurts?"

I smiled a little. "You think I'm trying to hurt you?"

His eyes looked wild. I shoved my right hand against his chest before he could answer, and the space in front of me was suddenly empty.

I watched him tumble backwards, turn it into a roll until he was on his feet, and slide across the sand on ruined sandals.

"I don't know you, but—"

I waited for the thought to finish itself, but it didn't.

There was no but. I didn't know Hidan at all.

I'd killed people for less than what he'd tried against Naga and Yahiko and everyone else. So, why?

Why put everyone in danger for someone like Hidan?

It was because. Because—

Because he was the only one left.

I went still. The only one left who could understand me, really understand, was Hidan.

Because Kota was dead, because when he looked at me, the first time we met, with blood all over him and bodies at his feet, he'd understood what it meant to be born of violence. Because Kota never saw me as wrong, or off, and Hidan had turned into someone a little off, a little wrong.

Kota didn't get why I should say sorry when someone was dead, and Hidan only laughed when I cut out his throat.

It hurt, in a way I thought it stopped a long time ago.

I heard someone say my name, and then I felt the quick sting of a cut across my cheek.

I blinked and looked up. His scythe on the ground next to him, chipped and cracked. Hidan caught a kunai, the cable tied around the handle.

I didn't move.

"Fucking finally," he said, and dragged his tongue against the red-stained edge.

I wanted him to be alive, because if he wasn't, I'd be alone again.

Hidan cut his wrist, threw out his hands, and laughed as his blood splattered the ground.

I brushed my thumb over the cut and looked at the blood as it slid down my finger.

I saw Maho, frozen half-standing, staring at Hidan, too far away to stop him.

Hidan smeared his blood into Jashin's symbol, and I looked at the twine around my wrist as his skin changed, black and white creeping up his body like it was wearing him.

You're dead, and I really, really, want to say sorry, but I can't.

Maho hesitated, clenched his fists, and looked away, and I wondered what happened to make him believe that Hidan wouldn't do it, even a little, when he'd always wanted to.

Hidan looked at me through his fingers. "I've been looking forward to this for so long I almost don't know what I want to do first," he said. "May Lord Jashin watch happily as I punish this terrible sinner."

I didn't look at him. "I was using you," I said absently.

He tested the sharpness of his kunai on his palm, and I felt the slow sting, but didn't look. He thanked Jashin again as I felt blood trickle down my hand.

"That's why I asked you here," I said. "I used you to replace someone who died. Someone I cared a lot about."

Hidan laughed so hard he bent over and the kunai slipped out of his hand. "You think I give a shit about that now?"

"I don't care if you don't care," I answered, still not looking at him. "I just didn't realize it before."

He didn't stop exactly, but he didn't laugh as hard as he had before. Maybe he could hear how much it hurt, too.

He picked up the kunai and I smiled bitterly at myself. "If she was still here, I think I could've loved her."

If it wasn't true, why would talking about her feel like there were shards of glass in my chest?

I waited, but I didn't feel any pain. I looked at Hidan again.

He was squeezing the handle, eyes narrowed and distant. After a second, he closed his eyes and rubbed the back of his head. "Fuck," he said. "Fuck you for making me think of shit I didn't want to think about."

I breathed out and that hurt, too. "I didn't make you do anything."

He pretended not to hear me. He half-opened his eyes. "Kota, right?"

He'd been there when I asked not-Madara if he killed Kota. I'd forgotten.

He didn't wait for an answer. "This shit is too depressing," he said, and stepped out of the triangle.

"What about Lord Jashin?"

He didn't look at me as his skin faded back to its normal color. "Shut up about it."

I watched him kick sand over the symbol for half a minute, and then I glanced at Maho, and saw him facing the water, throwing handfuls over his arms.

I walked to him and sat next to him, tugging my knees up to my chest.

"I can still feel the blood," he muttered. "No one said it would feel like..." he trailed off and sighed, sitting back. "Like being on the field."

I could've said they would've died without him, but he knew that, and it didn't change how he felt.

Maho shook his head. He twisted to face me, and I stayed still as he reached out and pressed faintly glowing fingers to the cut on my cheek. It didn't hurt as much as my palm did.

He barely glanced up as Hidan plopped down on the sand, making a loose triangle. He picked at a crack in the shortest blade and didn't look up.

"I'm sorry," Maho said suddenly.

Hidan looked irritated. "I'm thinking about enough dumb shit as it is."

"What?"

Hidan didn't answer.

"You're such an asshole," Maho said. "But I meant when we sparred. I shouldn't have used explosive style on you, and it doesn't matter if you didn't know I could do it."

Hidan blinked, eyes lazily sliding his way. "You're kidding, right?"

"You're immortal, fine," Maho pushed on. "But that doesn't make it okay to maim you because I can. I know you still feel pain, no matter how much of a dick you are."

Hidan's eyebrows drew together. "You really think you compare to some of the shit they threw at me in warm water?"

Maho frowned. "It's still not okay. It wouldn't be, even if you were trained to endure it."

Hidan looked at him for a few seconds, then stared away again. He scratched his cheek, and I saw the discomfort in his eyes.

"Kumi. That was her name," he eventually said. He looked at me and grinned. "You saw her, smeared somewhere on the floor the rest of those heathens. She deserved it for her blasphemy."

I lifted my head as Maho took my hand. "You don't sound happy."

Hidan's gaze drifted to the side and he said nothing at all.