A/N: Another chapter that consists very much of thinking and not a lot of action. Well, if you've made it this far, you must have some appreciation for that. Enjoy!
.
Kisame
Samehada warbled cheerfully.
Kisame held his head in his hands. "I'm not going to think about it. I'm not. It doesn't matter anyway."
Samehada peeped twice.
Kisame shook his head. "Not today. Just not today, and I don't care what Hidan says."
Samehada lolled his tongue out, then sank beneath the water. They were in the bathroom off Kisame's room, and he was nominally giving the shark a bath. In actuality, he was muttering to himself while Samehada ignored him in favor of playing with Ducky.
"What do you think, Same?" Kisame shrugged. "I don't have to think about female sharks any more than I want to, do I?"
Samehada surfaced and looked around. He probably hadn't heard, since he was underwater when Kisame asked. Kisame snorted and decided he was correct. Not any more than I want to, and that's final.
He rolled up his sleeves and carefully sat on the floor (the bathroom really was not suitable for a person of his dimensions), done thinking and ready to actually give Samehada a bath. He wasn't sure if any of the other sharks in the aquarium were bathed, but the other sharks weren't traveling around land and in cars and between different bodies of water on their bellies, which were coated with scales large enough to trap acorns. Same needed baths.
Samehada stayed still and lolled his tongue out as Kisame took a very small brush that one would normally use to clean the insides of straws and rubbed it around the border of each large scale. Kisame gathered the courage to work the brush in deeper as he worked, until Samehada started to flick his tail in little reflexive twitches that could have signified pleasure or pain. The bathwater steadily filled with leaf parts, bits of moss, and other things that Same's large scales had gathered over the course of land-based life.
Kisame realized he was smiling. This is nice. "Why can't you be more like other sharks, Same?" he asked in an obviously teasing way. "Other sharks have such small, dense little scales that they would never get things stuck between them like this. Why do you have to have such big, strong scales, huh?"
Samehada trilled. They both knew his strange scales were key to his ability to live on land. The question was rhetorical.
Kisame chuckled. "How is it? Do you like the straw brush, or does it hurt?" Samehada chirped happily. "Good. I do not know where to find brushes that can get between overgrown scales. Do products like that even exist?" Maybe zookeepers and other people that have to care for large lizards have ways to keep them clean…
Samehada rolled over onto his side, exposing his belly. The scales there were no different than the scales anywhere else, so Kisame kept working just as he had before. The bathwater accumulated more and more moss and scraps of bark. Kisame had gotten into a groove and lost track of time when Samehada stiffened.
Kisame immediately regained full awareness of his surroundings. The way Samehada felt now was nearly identical to how the shark had been when Kisame used him as a sword. "Same? What's wrong?"
Samehada made no sound. That was unusual. Kisame's senses went into hyperdrive. What could be upsetting the shark? Was Samehada upset? Was there anything in his body language to indicate what was the problem?
It took Kisame an embarrassingly long time to realize that he was cleaning a patch of scales right on Samehada's pelvic region, about where the genitals would be.
There was still nothing different about the scales there, so Kisame decided to be very still and unreactive and continue cleaning as usual. Samehada relaxed when he was done and somehow managed to turn around in the tiny bathtub so Kisame could clean his other side.
Kisame did so with a face that was too warm and a heart that was too loud. He thought about nothing at all. Nothing. He barely remembered cleaning Samehada's left flank immediately after he finished doing so.
The shark picked up Ducky in his mouth and got out of the tub so it could be drained. Kisame gathered up the mat of debris left around the drain and threw it away, then filled the tub with fresh water. Samehada climbed back in, released Ducky, and splashed. Kisame sat where he had sat before. Only then did the strange numbness that had descended over his mind lift.
He was pretty sure it would return if he thought about the wrong things, so he carefully thought about anything else. Himself, for example. Do I have scales? Maybe they're embedded into my skin, like an eel. Vestigial scales. That could explain why my skin is tougher than usual. He rubbed his cheek. How do the lizard Hatakes deal with theirs?
That was better. He could think about the way he related to other sharks sometime later. February 31st might be a good date.
Samehada
Samehada couldn't sleep. He felt strange. Maybe he was sick?
Human Cousin wasn't asleep either. Samehada was curled up on a bed of his own several feet away from Kisame's bed, but he could still tell. Human Cousin moved his arms around, from his sides to above his head and then to his sides again. He moved the blanket occasionally. He took a deeper breath than usual every so often.
Samehada curled tighter. Strange feeling. Sick? He didn't have much experience with being sick. He ate chakra, so he'd never felt the stomach upset that comes from eating bad or poisonous food. The tank was well cleaned, and he'd never been wounded anyway. Lack of oxygen or excessive saltiness or changes in acidity had never troubled him.
A new thought occurred to him. Did being so different protect him? He was immune to many of the things that sickened or hurt other sharks, and had not gained any new weaknesses of his own. Perhaps he was stronger than other sharks.
Samehada didn't think about himself very much, so he hadn't ever thought about whether the nature of his existence was good or bad. It just was. He did not think of it that way now, because good and bad are very human terms. But he did realize that the way he existed had advantages.
The sickness didn't feel very painful, anyway. It was irritating and made him want to move, made him want to get up and do things, but it didn't hurt that much. So Samehada distracted himself with thinking about his scales and what benefits they granted him until it eased and he could go to sleep.
Konan
The next day was going to be a bad one. Konan knew that as soon as she opened her eyes. The way it took noticeable amounts of energy to open her eyes and she didn't really want to get up always signified that.
Why? Why must this be the cost? The night before had been very pleasant. The visit with the Hatakes had been one of many pleasant and productive things. Hope had been with her, and she had sincerely believed that she could handle whatever came her way and handle it well. The world had shone with possibility.
Why does there have to be a cost? Other people seemed not to be this way. Konan had always thought that joy and pain were paired, that of course every good period must be followed by a period of listlessness and hurt. But now that she lived in close quarters with a variety of other people, she was starting to doubt. Others in the group seemed to have great inspirations, and then settle down to normal. They did so gently, with the grace and care of a feather. Konan had known her belief that the world was a good place to shrivel in half an hour or less.
The others treat me as if I am sick, as if I need care. Perhaps they are right. It was easy to believe that. After all, didn't she feel wrong? Out of place, ill equipped, and uneasy. It was easy to believe that something was wrong. What she couldn't believe was that there was any help for it. They try, but they cannot change my basic nature. They spend so much effort trying. I wish they would give up. That effort could be spent in better ways.
She refocused on the wall in front of her. She had been staring at it for a full five minutes. Nothing in her wanted to get up. But habit, that old reliable safeguard, had her sitting up before she even knew she was moving. Then she was putting on her cloak, and then she was leaving her room, all in something of a daze. She couldn't quite seem to plan anything.
Today was not going to be a productive day.
She idly wondered about possible things she could do, knowing that all of them were beyond her reach, while letting her feet take her to the kitchen. I could test Hidan's new training room. I could test the old training room, which I meant to do but haven't done. I could procure weapons, which I also meant to do but haven't done. I need to. If the situation with the vampires takes any unexpected turns… Then she would feel personally guilty, because here she had this thought right in front of her, all the knowledge she needed in order to act, and she already knew she would not use it. That was inevitable. But she should use it. So the inevitability of her not doing what she should must mean it was caused by some flaw in her self. Or perhaps she was deluding herself into thinking it was inevitable to cover up the fact that really she was deciding to do the wrong thing?
Konan looked around the kitchen and wished she was an automaton. Then the thought You have control over your actions would not circle her mind over and over again. How did the thought of free will inspire anyone? It was a curse to her.
Hidan checked the kitchen, saw her, and came in. "Knew you had to be here somewhere."
Konan closed her eyes. "I am sorry." For hurting you. "For my poor decisions." It is said that every human has the power to control how they think, and therefore how they feel. Why do I do this to myself? I have too much power. I have none. What is wrong with me? Why do I not control my thoughts when they are capable of being controlled? Even now, I'm harming myself. Stop!
Futile as this train of thought seemed, it did accomplish something. The listlessness was gone. Now, instead of feeling greatly distant from and bored with the world, Konan felt like she was going mad. She clutched at the world for stability. She wasn't sure whether she wanted to or not, but there was no other choice.
Hidan held both of her cheeks firmly in his hands and forced her to look at him. She enjoyed the firmness of his grip. That was real. That was solid. Nothing else was solid or real. Did she have free will or not? Too much power or too little? Was she making a choice or not? Did she even exist?
He tightened his grip, staring at her intensely. His eyes bored into hers, and little by little, she thought she could feel their solidity seeping into her. His steady gaze must have something equally steady as its object. So I do exist.
That feeling of existence gave her strength. Ah, so I can make a choice. She decided (what a relief it was to make a decision!) to open her mouth and speak. "Thank you."
Hidan took his hands away and stepped back. She didn't miss the way his gaze dissolved and slid off of her. It must have taken great effort to make his gaze as steady as it was when he felt as unstable as she did. More effort wasted on me.
He shook his head. "Have you seen the new training room? I finally got it up. Kakuzu tested it and thought it was awesome."
"I have not."
Hidan took a deep breath and gathered his strength for another burst of solidity and stability. He looked directly at her and ordered, "Go and test it. When you drop out, go up to the roof and look at the sky. I'll be making a quick trip to the library."
Konan knew she was not supposed to be directly ordered around. However, if she had been able to order him around, she might have ordered him to order her around because it felt damn good to have someone else make plans when she couldn't. Her guilt lessened. "Very well."
But the fact remains that I did not come up with this idea, she thought on her way to the training rooms. Why on earth not? It is a very obvious idea. I was obviously stressed by being unable to fulfill responsibilities, so having someone else take over responsibility is an excellent solution. Yet she hadn't realized that was the problem until Hidan gave her an order. What seemed so obvious now had not been at all obvious before. My thinking is compromised. My thoughts are untrustworthy.
Today was going to be a downright rainy garbage fire of a day, and she would count herself lucky if she survived and stayed sane.
She carried out Hidan's orders. She punched the bags until she dropped out, and then she sat on the roof and looked at the morning sky. Strange. I haven't had a single distressing thought since I began exercising. She felt less ill, too. Her mind was wobbling around less. Exercise is good for the mind, she concluded.
The morning sun lit the treetops in a very artistic way. Maybe her portion of the day would be a garbage fire, but the rest of the world was going to have a perfectly fine day. She enjoyed watching it.
Hidan
"Do you have any books that can give therapy?"
Hidan asked that of the librarian at the reference desk. He asked it of the librarian at the circulation desk, just in case she had a relevant personal experience. He asked it of Google. He asked it of two other people in the section of the library that was relevant. One of those other people mumbled something about seeing a book in the office of their sister's therapist. Good enough!
Hidan checked it out and went back as fast as he could, which wasn't nearly as fast as he would've liked because he didn't want to damage the book. That limited him to a normal non-chakra-propelled run that only made the pages flap a bit. The sun cleared the tops of most trees when he got back, which meant he'd taken far too long for his liking.
Fortunately, his orders seemed to have worked. Konan sat peacefully on the roof and he picked up only a moderate swirl of unease and guilt as he approached. That was good. It meant she could think straight, and that was required if a book was going to help her any.
"Heyo," he said while sitting next to her. "I got a book. Let's see what it does."
They read the foreword, which confirmed that the book could be used in the way they intended. Hidan drank in every word. That's a fucking excellent sign. They skimmed some of the brief message before the first chapter. Konan huffed and turned the page. "Too technical." Hidan didn't need any special senses to tell she wasn't as hopeful as he was.
Then they got to the first chapter, which was not technical at all. Konan pronounced it entertaining, if nothing else. The first chapter led without any pause into the second chapter, and at the end of the second chapter was a worksheet.
"Okay," Hidan said, taking the book and placing it in his own lap. "I'll read 'em, and you just answer. So, first up's your environment. Any recent changes, childhood traumas, or ongoing problems?"
"Too many to possibly list," Konan answered. "Orphaned by war, saw the man I loved die, died myself. I barely need to mention any of them."
"Say them anyway," Hidan said. "Saying shit aloud is very different from just knowing it. You have to say it."
Konan acknowledged that with a nod. "I have witnessed the deaths of many, many people. I killed most of them myself. Nagato and I changed our entire view of the world and what was possible in it. Then we changed it back, just a few months ago. I became the leader of the Akatsuki, where formerly I was always second in command. I nearly lost that position two weeks ago by my own actions, which I consider myself responsible for, bizarre mental state or not."
"Any good changes?" I know there are some. C'mon!
Konan took some time to think about this one. "I met you. I have somewhat reconnected with Yahiko. This new world isn't all bad."
Hidan grinned. "Knew I could drag some good news out of you. Okay… Physical reactions?"
"Lack of energy, disturbed sleep, racing heartbeat, mild headache, difficulty breathing, shaking." Konan paused. "As I recall, I passed out when you held that 'funeral' for your originals."
Hidan nodded. Fuck. A bunch of those things are listed here, like they're expected. She could really have something serious. "Moods. What kinda moods have you had lately?"
Konan looked down. "I have felt guilty. Apathetic. Ashamed. Carefree. Incredibly happy. Greatly hopeful."
Hidan nodded and carefully avoided frowning. It says most frequent or troubling. I don't doubt she did keep it to the most troubling. So what about being happy troubles her? "Um… Behaviors. What've you done because of these moods?"
"Attacked Yahiko." She closed her eyes. "Stole Sasori's personal property. Made promises I couldn't keep."
"Okay, this one's something I think I should chime in on, since you might need an outside perspective." Hidan cleared his throat. "Let's not forget about distancing yourself from people, focusing on work, and clinging to me. That's important."
Konan opened her eyes. "Have I been distant?"
"You don't talk to anybody but me about this shit, and you like to go away and be alone," Hidan pointed out.
Konan tilted her head. Had she not realized that before?
Hidan gave her a few minutes, then moved on when he felt a general settling down. "Oh. Ooh. Fuck yes. Fuck. Yes. Shit. This one's a fucking gold mine."
They had gone over multiple examples of this same questionnaire while reading the second chapter. "Thoughts."
"Yep!"
Konan sighed. "I...hardly know where to start."
Hidan restrained himself from squirming impatiently. "That's okay. Take a minute."
He winced at a burst of pain. Ow. Shit. Maybe thinking of them's making that mood come back again. Konan's breath shook as she began to whisper. "I cannot control anything. I am powerless. I have too much power. It's all my fault. Others would be better off without me. I make bad choices. I hurt the people I care about. I am a monster."
Hidan's eyes teared up. He moved the book out of the way. He bit his tongue. I want to reply so fucking hard. I want to tell her every last one of them is wrong. But no. No. It's not about me.
"Anyone else would be better at what I'm trying to do than I am," she finished. "There. Those are my thoughts."
Hidan nodded. "Mka-"
"Wait." Her eyes flew open. "My thoughts are evil, I can't trust myself, I am my enemy, and I am going mad. Those are also thoughts. I nearly forgot them."
Hidan stared off into space. Ouch. That's too close to home. I don't know what I'm doing behind my back either.
"Ahem."
He blinked rapidly. "Um." Like a child who got caught daydreaming in class, he raised the book and began to read the last paragraph. ""Can you see some connections among the five parts?'" The paragraph explained that all five areas are usually connected, and went on to offer hope by asserting that changes in one area could lead to changes in all the other areas as well. "'Changes in your thinking or behavior are often important if you want to create lasting improvements," Hidan read.
"But the way I think and act is beyond my control," Konan argued.
"That's a thought," Hidan argued back. "And the book just says a change. It doesn't say shit about who has to be causing the change. I already did help you with behavior, just now. Punching the bags helped, right?"
"That...is true."
"Fuck, how did I not find this one before?" Hidan made a careful note of the title. "So useful. Imma read all of it and see what's most helpful."
He felt a spark of desire to smile. "The fact that you have hope gives me hope somehow." Konan eyed the book. "Speaking aloud changed something. I do not know what."
Hidan put the book down and gave her a hug. "Something for the better," he mumbled into her hair.
Konan sighed. "Maybe." She doesn't believe it yet. But I do. Something has to get at least a little better. Making something better is what I do.
No matter what she thought, Hidan knew he wouldn't stop trying to help her. He liked it too much to stop. It would be a greater burden on him to have to restrain himself from helping. She doesn't believe that yet either. But I know it's true. Someday, she will too.
Yahiko
Pulling out new stock did not help him feel better. Neither did picking up clothes from the changing rooms, or responding to a customer complaint. None of those things stopped him from thinking about the previous night. In fact, they only made him think about it more.
Yahiko didn't really want to be working today. Working got in the way of thinking, which felt horribly unpleasant but also like something he needed to do. What he really wanted was to either stop thinking, or to lock himself in a tiny, enclosed space and devote all of his energies to thinking and nothing else. This in between state was frustrating on both accounts.
At least he was permitted to sit down sometimes. That was as close to a small, enclosed space as he was going to get. He took one last look around, sat down, pulled up his knees and wondered Why did it feel so bad?
Last night wasn't the first time he'd felt heart-pounding fear. He'd always thought of that as anxiety, but having Nagato there for contrast highlighted his own reactions. It had been hard, impossible, to even function. Maybe that wasn't anxiety. Maybe it wasn't something other people felt regularly. Maybe it was something abnormal.
He tried to get his thoughts in order. A small, dark, enclosed space would have been ideal for that, but he did the best he could in the distracting environment of the store. If it was really fear, then I had to be afraid of something. So what was I thinking about? It was hard to remember something like that when he was many hours and a full night of sleep removed from the event. I probably thought the usual things. That it was embarrassing, that I'd just embarrassed myself. I remember fearing what Nagato would say, as if he would say something hurtful. Is that it? Was I afraid of what people would say?
He had to get up every few minutes to make sure there was nothing he should be doing, so he reluctantly dragged himself away from his thoughts and did that. The desk had some items for him to put back. He reluctantly did that, hoping he didn't look too reluctant. He should focus on work when he was at work. But he really wanted to focus on what happened last night, which seemed much more important. It was frustrating!
Thank the gods, there was nothing that needed attending to after that, so he could sit down again. Where was I? Um… Being afraid of Nagato. People saying hurtful things. Right.
Why? I know nobody ever would. Hidan has a female form too, and nobody reacted to that even when he first got it, when they should have been most surprised. If nobody reacts badly even when they're surprised, then they really don't care about it. They wouldn't think anything bad about me. They definitely wouldn't say anything. I know that. I know it, but the thought of being looked at while I'm in that form still makes me freak out. Why? Why can't I trust what I know?
He was called away again. Gah! Why do I have to work when I'm trying to think? This time, he must have been unable to control how much his reluctance showed on his face. The person putting together stock for unloading gave him a funny look. Yahiko took a quick breath and put his good-humored cheerful face back on.
That was the first of a series of tasks, each of them minor but very, very frustrating. The time they took made him want to cry. He was very nearly about to think bad words when finally, he finished the last of them, and he raced back to the chair and found his boss waiting.
He still had his good-humored face on, but she saw right through the cracks in it. "Are you alright?"
No, no, what am I doing? Work when you're at work! I can think later. It's unprofessional to bring personal stuff into work. "Um, uh, it's fine. I'm okay. Nothing that'll cause any problems."
She looked at him some more. His whole body twitched from a bolt of terror. Would she send him home? That would mean he was failing in his responsibilities, and he didn't want to fail her. He didn't want to fail anyone, but after everything she'd done for him, that would be especially horrible. No, no, I'm okay! I'm not a failure!
"If you're sure," she said.
"I'm sure." I'm not a burden! I can do it!
She glanced at him like she didn't really believe that, and his stomach dropped. When she walked away, he sat down and let his head hang like a weight on the end of his neck. She already makes so many allowances for my personal life. She shouldn't have to, but she does, and that's amazing. I can't ask her to keep going above and beyond for me. That's not fair. I have to keep my personal problems where they belong, and that's not here. I need to deal with them on my own time, like an adult, and not treat her like a substitute mom.
He raised his head, put his cheerful face back on, tried not to think, and went back to work.
.
A/N: I learned about embedded scales from a game. However, that game told me flouders had them. Google tells me flounders have visible scales that can be scraped off. I was miseducated! Luckily, the website of the Australian Museum tells me that some species of freshwater eel have tiny embedded scales, so I can still use that. (Edit: The game actually said halibut had them, and Google says that is correct. I misremembered what kind of flat seafloor-living fish whose eyes migrate onto one side of their head the game had talked about. But halibut is still a not commonly known term that would cause more trouble than saying eels, so there will be no change.)
The book in this chapter is a real book. I have it. Those are real quotes from it. It is called Mind Over Mood, by Dennis Greenberger, PhD, and Christine A. Padesky, PhD. I was a little concerned about having Konan do the first exercise, because her issues are very similar to mine. However, I was overestimating the similarities. We're actually very different. So using it in this chapter did not affect me very much, and I can do it myself later.
I don't think the book will be very useful. There are some problems with it in our case, which I might have Konan discuss next chapter. The book is really only written for depression, anxiety, and anger issues. It looks good at dealing with those, but slightly less good at dealing with other things. I'd have to modify much of it. But if you have unipolar depression, anxiety, or anger issues, hey.
I like writing Yahiko. Not because I delight in his pain or anything, but just out of intellectual excitement. I don't think I share his issues, so it is fascinating to write from a perspective that is different from mine for once. Not too different, mind.
I might write more about the characters at work. Now that I have a job of my own, I am starting to see how people can regard one day as very similar to the next. Something about working irons out all the normal highs and lows of emotion, forcing them into a very steady state in which I don't change much from one end of my shift to the other. it's very curious. I understand more now.
Can't wait to see yall next week!