#hidan is holding his own head

[junk-heart]

Hidan made it into this post cause he's on the other side of the spread

And I like how contrasting they look

[or0ch1maru]

18+, minors dni, size kink

His hands engulf your small frame. Thick fingers holding your sides tightly as he bounces you up and down on his cock. Your poor legs twitching and quivering from overuse. He thinks you look absolutely adorable like this, tears running down your red cheeks, head thrown back as orgasm after orgasm washes over you, your cute lil hands clawing at his chest, leaving marks that he’ll proudly show off. If he isn’t watching your expressions, his eyes are focused on the bulge in your tummy, his cock head repeatedly hitting your sweet spot. Letting out a deep groan himself as he notices the white ring that formed on the base of his cock.

“daddyyy, ‘s too big” you manage to whimper out. him picking you up, just to slam you back down. All you manage are broken whines, feeling like you’re being split in two

“heh, you can handle it baby.” He encourages, his pace and harshness only intensifying as he thrusts up, meeting the way he’s bouncing you. Another climax washes over you from the way he uses you as his own personal pocket pussy

“there ya’ go, cum f’ me again, know ya can”

TOJI, SUKUNA, Satoru, Suguru, KENPACHI, KAKUZU, HIDAN, Obito, Kisame, Shiu Kong, Jiraiya

[aritsukemo]

What it's like with an Mitsuri Kanroji!partner | Akatsuki Members

Characters: Itachi Uchiha, Sasori, Hidan, and Konan

Warnings: Hidan. That said, vulgarity and threats ahead. Reader is heavily implied to be female/fem-bodied!

A/N: Been rewatching Naruto lately ( with my bsf who's watching Naruto for the first time ) and soon plan to rewatch Naruto Shippuden. ( Never finished it.. ) That said, I got the inspo to make this after Itachi and Kisame got introduced! This wasn't meant to exactly be romantic, but you can see these as whatever makes you comfortable! 🙈

Itachi Uchiha

↪ He found you odd, but in a good way.

↪ Being apart of the Akatsuki, he's met and collabrated with some of the most sick in the head and heartless people across the nations and he himself is far from a saint. That said, he was surprised, and quite suspicious, when he first met you.

↪ You were everything the Akatsuki wasn't; as bright and as cheery the sun with a transparent air of innocence to around you to boot.

↪ Everything about you from your smooth, clean, and supple skin to your wide, glossy smile told him that you had yet to see even the smallest slither of the terrors of this world..so why were you here before him squealing and blushing like a little kid?

↪ At first, he thought you were a spy like Orochimaru and were trying to steal information on the Akatsuki or get to him and his eyes, but it didn't take long for his suspicions to be dispelled.

↪ Your first mission together was a test. One that was to prove your loyalty and dependablity to the Akatsuki and during your entire walk, you talked. You never stopped and eagerly hopped to different topics and by the time you reached the village that hid away the Four-Tails, he had learned just about your entire life that you had left behind; how many siblings you had, your two bunnys and three cats you had as a child and their names, and your strange reason for becoming a rogue ninja; to find someone suitable to marry you.

↪ Futhermore, he was able to get the front row show of your abilities. Your Kekkei Genkai was nothing too eye-widening as it simply allowed you to manipulate metal, yet the way you went about using it was nothing he expected. Never did he think someone would use a Kekkei Genkai such as yours to manipulate a whip-like sword nor did he anticipate the utter destruction a weapon like that would cause.

↪ With all that said, your inexperience shone through here and there. You made simple, avoidable mistakes but your sheer power, flexibility—your flexibility especially—and your agility helped you escape majority of what would've been life-threatening injuries.

↪ Then again, you did tell him that you left your village on a whim and basically everything other than your Kekkei Genkai was self-crafted and taught..

↪ Anyways, after your mission was over and done with, you took him out to celebrate! ..And what I mean by that is that you took him to a run-down ramen shop in the middle of nowhere.

↪ It was then that he learned something new about you; that you held the appetite larger than the tailed beast you just killed. You were embarrassed about it, but seeing as Itachi didn't mind, you let yourself run wild and bought two or three ( or was it four? ) of every kind of dish the little shack had to offer! ( It was a rather humorous sight when your meals were set down and your food towered over your head and completely covered your face and body while as Itachi was able to hold his meal—a singlaur dango stick—in his hand )

↪ After that day, his suspicions were pretty much nonexistent. He also deduced that you wore every emotion of yours on your cloud patterned sleeves for the world to see and poured your golden soul onto everyone you met whether it be friend or foe. You were naively open about everything and overall just easy to read, not that he necessarily saw that as a bad thing.

↪ He eventually told you about his past. How he slaughtered his own people and even admitted the true reason behind it. That said, you were sullen for a while after that, having realized that your reason for becoming a dangerous criminal was rather silly and kind of disrespectful in certain ways. Itachi told you that your reason for walking down this path was just as serious/valid as his even if it's not filled with guts, blood, and pain. In a way, he felt like that made you even more fit for this path. ( Because who in their right mind decides to go rogue just to find someone that would be so insanely out of their mind and strong that they'd see you—who has the raw strength to potientally manhandle the nine tails itself and features flashier/brighter than it—as a normal woman?? )

↪ He quickly got used to your fangirling and rants about the others. Although some of them, including himself, he found odd to have you raving about like a lovesick, diehard fan, he took it as one of the many odd things that makes you the person you are. It does make him worry whenever you do it on the battlefield though. ( Times like those tend to end with him swooping you out of danger like some prince charming while gently scolding you which makes you even more flustered and squealy. )

↪ Most of the others view your partnership like a parent looking after their little kid because of how much more mature Itachi is compared to you and how much he ultimately looks after you despite the two of you being around the same age.

↪ Whenever you would throw off your cloak, revealing your embarrassingly revealing outfit underneath, he's quick to grab it—ready to drape it back over you whenever the fight is done and over with.

↪ Doesn't mind your touchiness! After a battle, no matter how simple or difficult, you had a tendency of running over and crashing into him, wrapping your arms around him and giving him a tight hug and he lets you without complaint. Sadly he never reciprocates it, simply patting your head or not touching you at all, deciding to ask you about your wellbeing instead.

↪ Overall, he respects you as a comrade and as a person in general. He commends your resilience and your determination, because never once has he ever met someone who treads a path such as this one do it with a genuine, beaming, sinless smile. Never once has he met someone in this profession shed tears for the ones they strike down and apologize to the cities they ruthlessly trample and mean it with their entire being. Never once has he met someone who's guilt for their actions were just as strong as their conviction..but he can understand it. He can sympathize with you. And he will, though, he wishes that you'll achieve your goal and leave this life behind before it breaks you down, taints your soul, and ultimately kills everything he admires about you.

Sasori ( of the Red Sand )

↪ He thought of you as a complete idiot.

↪ He honestly thought Pain was trying to play some elaborate prank on him at first, that's how much he couldn't believe it.

↪ You were..nothing the Akatsuki stood for and after the first conversation with you, ( that lasted ages by the way ) he went straight to Pain and questioned his decisions only for Pain to simply smirk and say with utmost confidence, "Just wait, you'll see her true worth in due time, Sasori. You simply have to be patient."

↪ And like the loyal dog he was, he did. Despite his impatience, he waited until your first mission was given and you two were sent to retrieve the One-Tail Beast.

↪ During your walk, you never stopped talking. You attempted to get to know your new partner, but as he was rather tight-lipped, the conversation became all about you. Your upbringing, your small, unknown clan, and even more unimportant things that he didn't care for like your siblings and their names, your pets, and your favorite sweets. That in itself was irritating, but what really got to him was how much of a klutz you were. You were rather animated and as you two passed various places to get to Sunagakure, you would often trip or slip, slowing your travels..

↪ There were various moments were he wanted to just impale you on Hiruko's tail and be done with you, but as Pain and his own curiosity insisted, he refrained and patiently awaited the time to witness your true power. And, when he was finally able to witness you completely in the zone, he was completely blown!

↪ He watched from afar, but he was able to see everything from the very moment you whipped out your peculiar sword to the moment you had the Kazekage in your grasp and were escaping.

↪ He was dumbfounded. Your power completely defied any kind of logic he once knew. Your Kekkei Genkai was nothing to gawk at, but the idea of using it to make and manipulate a flacid sword that can cut through and completely destroy even something like sand was as astonishing as it was illogical. He couldn't wrap his head around how it worked nor how you manage to wield such a high-maintenance weapon with such ease.

↪ He was also taken aback by your unique body composition. There was a moment where you miscalculated and were hit with a head on attacks from shinobi—many of which could exploded and should've completely obliterated you—but you came out of the attack completely fine and intact save for some burn marks.

↪ It was then that he was finally able to see what Pain saw in you. It was also the moment he saw you in a different light. He saw you as an actual comrade and not just some hinderance like Tobi.

↪ As you walked back together, Kankuro attacked you after having tailed you for some time. You were ready for the battle, as moved as you were by Kankuro's actions to save his little brother, but Sasori had other plans. Whether watching you fight had fired him up or there was some other reason, he told you to stand down but stay put as it was his turn to 'show off his art to you'.

↪ He went on to destroy Kankuro's puppets and immobilize him, feeling a sense of pride in the way you squealed and eagerly complimented him and his puppet.

↪ On the venture back to the hideout, he was much more open to conversation. After listening to your odd speech about how bad you felt about what you were doing, he asked about your view on what you believe is true art.

↪ "True art? Hm...well I suppose it'd be love!" And you went on to explain that whether platonic or romantic, you believed the art of love was the truest form of art there was as it was completely honest, showed a person's true character, and made people see others in a breathtaking light. That led to your confession behind your reason of joining the Akatsuki; to find someone who shared your views, someone who'd believed in love and all of its aspects and would accept someone as abnormal as you and take you as their bride.

↪ It was honestly laughable how stupid you sounded to him. Nevertheless, your acceptance of others views—no matter how illogical or flat out wrong they were—was something you two shared in common, and to that, he decided not to express his thoughts aloud for once.

↪ You didn't know Sasori for long as he died to the hands of that pink-haired kunoichi and his grandmother some time after you parted to fight the Nine-Tails Jinchuriki and his sensei, Kakashi Hatake, but even in that short of a time, you had left quite the impression on Sasori.

↪ You were immature, innocent, bubbly, and capable of sympathizing with the ones you brought misfortunate to. You were a complete enigma to him in many ways despite how willing you were to tell him everything he wished to know about you and, in a way, he liked that. It added to your charm, as dumb as that sounded coming from him.

↪ Huh, you truly were a work of art in your own right. It's a shame that he had to bite the bullet before you. He's sure that if it were the other way around and he was able to preserve your beauty in wood and silk and turn you into one of his puppets, you would've became his favorite work of art yet.

Hidan

↪ He found you hot as hell.

↪ He didn't care about anything regarding you, the only thing he could think in that moment was how you would look butt ass naked and bouncing on his—

↪ Anyways, he could care less for you pass that, but he was overjoyed that you two were partnered together because that meant he'd have the best view of your tits at all times. How Jashin has blessed him!

↪ Speaking of tits, that's the nickname he chose to refer to you as. It was fitting in his opinion since you always kept your cloak open and the outfit you had on under..well, let's just say that it left little to the imagination. ( Which he loves more than anything because, again, the view it gives him is fantastic! )

↪ On your first mission together, it was realized very quickly that you two were polar opposites and pretty much a complete mismatch for each other in both personality and fighting wise. For reference, Hidan was like a ruthless machine gun that only cared about the rush of the sight of his opponents blood filling his vision and you were like sunflower who brightened everyone day and shed it's petals for all but people like Hidan.

↪ Safe to say that you weren't a big fan of him. Nevertheless, Pain had paired you two together and you couldn't bring yourself to bother him over something like this. ( Especially not after how you embarrassed yourself the first couple times you talked to him! >.< )

↪ Despite your many differences, you did share your story with him as well as your reasons for joining the Akatsuki. And at the face of your heartfelt story, Hidan laughed in your face and insulted you, calling you every name in the book.

↪ He also didn't believe half of what you said. I mean..you? So strong that even the kage of your village couldn't take you? Oh, please! He's sure he can beat your ass in five seconds flat! ( And he stands by that even after watching you manhandle a tailed beast )

↪ He found your worrying annoying. Whenever he would perform rituals, you would whine about him stabbing himself, worried about both him and the soil beneath him that was being mercilessly soiled by his blood. In times like those, he'll yell at you to be quiet 'lest you want to face the wrath of Jashin and yada yada.

↪ Over time, Hidan became more manageable as a partner ( or maybe you simply got so used to him that meany became an incorrect word to describe him as when brought up in conversations ) and from the jump, he wasn't all bad. For example, he didn't care for your big appetite or bright appearance! ( Though, of course, his reasons behind not caring was as vulgar as ever )

↪ He also had moments that showed that he wasn't completely heartless. There was once a time where your opponents caught you off guard and you took a big attack head on. One would think Hidan would laugh at the sight or insult you for getting taken by surprise, but instead, panic coursed through his veins and he frantically called your name and even went as far as yanking you out of danger when the smoke cleared and he realized that the attack knocked you out.

↪ He has also attempted to recruit you to Jashin on occasion. When he first saw you in action, for example. You declined every time, telling him that you had no interest in becoming apart of a religion that would allow someone as cruel and as heartless as him to join. ( He berated you for that one by the way, even went as far as to attempt to slice your head off )

↪ Speaking of which, just because he finds you attractive does not save you from his short temper! He has attacked you on various occasions and once or twice during a battle and no amount of time together will make him like you nearly enough not to attempt to kill you when you even slightly tick him off.

↪ Overall, Hidan was a tough partner to deal with. Nevertheless, you found yourself shedding tears during your escape after finding out he, despite his immortality, died. You didn't hope that his soul would be carried onto the heavens. You didn't say, "Good riddance," and say rot in hell. You didn't even pray that he'd get reborn into this world as a better person. You simply cried. After all, as horrible of a person he was, you'd be lying if you were to say that your dear partner didn't leave little marks of fondness on your heart after a while.. ( And he was just starting to warm up to you too.. :( )

Konan

↪ She found you cute, but peculiar.

↪ You were the first person she ever recruited. When Tobi described you to her, she had some thoughts in mind in terms of the type of person you'd be. You were the princess of a clan unknown to the majority of the world. With that in mind, she thought you'd be rather down to earth, possibly a bit arrogant.

↪ It turns out she was way off. Firstly, you were much more..ebullient, than she expected. Not only that, but your appearance was much bolder than she anticipated..

↪ She wasn't expecting your eager acceptance either. While you did exchange blows initially, you immediately ceased your attacking once you heard more about the Akatsuki—specifically the part about having strong comrades.

↪ On the way back, she quickly realized how talkative you were. In the span of the day it took to get back to the hideout, she had learned virtually everything about you. Not only that, but you were unashamed in complimenting her appearance and jutsu. ( She did find it odd, though, that you grew all flustered when she politely returned the favor. )

↪ She didn't become your partner per say, but you did travel with her many times. Your unique fighting style and overall power and disposition earned you special tasks from Pain, and since the Akatsuki wasn't one to travel by themselves ( and with you two being the only females ), he sent Konan with you on those special missions.

↪ She wasn't one to become comfortable around those she wasn't especially close with, but you made it really hard not to. You were such a warm person that she naturally gravitated towards you which ultimately resulted in the two of you spending a lot time together.

↪ It was sometime during your first or second mission together that you confessed your reason behind joining. You had been feeling guilty after learning the overall goal of the Akatsuki and felt the need to apologize to Konan for joining with the sole intent on using the Akatsuki to lure in capable shinobi and rogues alike who would be crazy enough to take a woman like yourself as a bride.

↪ To your surprise, she didn't scold you nor did she laugh. She simply told you that she didn't mind your reason for joining as long as you would remain loyal to Pain and his ambitions.

↪ She found you rather silly for someone your age. Every once in a while, your mind would fill with these puerile thoughts and you'd go to the extremes acting on them.

↪ For example, there was a time where you grew weak for a while due to your attempts at hiding your appetite. You really liked Konan and thought she was cool ( Same with a lot of the others in the Akatsuki! ) and you feared that you'd put her off or that she'd consider you a risk factor or something and kick you out of the organization.

↪ Konan found out that your sudden lack of strength was due to starvation and when she confronted you about it, you tearfully confessed your fears to which she sighed. ( Because did you honestly think her or Pain would discard you over something like that? ) Not only did she not kick you, but she also took you out to eat, pushing you to order whatever and however much you'd like.

↪ Safe to say that she severely underestimated just how much you could eat. ( You had a mountain of giant bowls and plates that took up the whole entire table the two of you sat at )

↪ There was another time where you two were walking to your next mission and you were noticeably glum and silent the entire way there. She noticed that you refrained from your usual cheery rambling and during the entirety of your mission, you held this weird, scrunched expression.

↪ When questioned why after everything was over and done with, you told her the most surprising reason ever; that you were trying to seem mature and overall more like her.

↪ That was the first time you ever heard her laugh.

↪ She couldn't help it. The whole situation was incredulous to her. I mean, you want to be like her? She can maybe see your reason, but at the same time..why in the world would you do that?

↪ That said, she told you that she prefers you acting like your normal bilthesome self and was more fond of the sight of your face covered in a wide smile. She's flattered that you look up to her so much, but going so far wasn't necessary as it wasn't considered a bother or hindrance to her, Pain, or anyone else.

↪ She honestly did love how passionate you were about everything you did/believed in. Your emotional sensitivity to the people and things around you was something she admired and respected as she had overall grown to have a heart of stone over the years.

↪ She also found your unique fighting style beautiful and fitting for you. To her, it completely encapsulates your style and being, and she has mentally commended you on being able to take such a simple Kekkei Genkai such as Metal Manipulation and mold it into something like this; a weapon that no other could wield even if they had a similar power which is not an easy feat!

↪ When you're not on a mission, you two have spent time once or twice at a hot springs. Konan herself isn't one for such leisure activities, but she couldn't resist you whenever you asked. ( Plus, you managed to find one secluded that had zero knowledge on the Akatsuki and ultimately let you two in without batting an eye to your appearance ) She'll admit that it grew to be a seldom, but enjoyable pass time to partake in with you.

↪ Speaking of which, during one of those rare pass times, she saw the tattoo on your collarbone for the first time. She found it beautiful and when asked, you were more than happy to tell her all she wanted to know. ( Apparently the tattoo grants you unimaginable power and even amongst the people of your clan, it is rare to obtain. It comes with it's costs, but whether it was because of your sheer determination or some other reason, you were able to live long past the twenty-five age limit unlike the others who were granted it. )

↪ Slowly, she watched as her sunflower companion started to shrivel up. With each Akatsuki member that was killed off, you bawled your pretty little eyes out. The more it happened, the more it seem a piece of your heart cracked away. Thankfully, your rapturous personality didn't cease to exist, but Konan could see how each death that occured got to you little by little. She did her best to comfort you each time, but she could only grant you little relief.

↪ You did do something surprising, however, promising to her that you'd be her and Pain's knight and shining armor and keep them protected and alive. It was a tall order, but she humored you for the chance to see you revert back to normal.

↪ Alas, it seems that tall order was even taller in reality. Pain—or, I guess it would be better to call him by his actual name, Nagato—died, albeit of his own volition.

↪ Konan told you not to blame yourself, but you found yourself doing it anyway. Lately it seemed that all you've managed to do is get in the way and get others hurt trying to save you..and Konan could tell from a mile a day that you were thinking that.

↪ And so, after calling a truce with Naruto, she invited you to come with her back to Amegakure and work as her second in command which you ended up accepting, wanting to at least do the bare minimum of protecting her.

↪ During that small time of peace, it was nice. Amegakure saw you as the Angel's spear and praised your beauty and strength. Even then, your guilt didn't settle, if anything it ate away at you for relaxing/doing menial task while the others who passed fought long, hard battles and died fighting for what they stood for.

↪ In the end, you were finally given relief as you were soon killed by Tobi. You fought as best you could and lost half of your limbs doing your best to protect Konan and the secret of where Nagato's corpse's laid. You didn't want to go so soon, especially so quickly after the battle had begun, but your senses were dulling at a rapid rate and your blood was pooling out of you from various angles.

↪ Not everything was bad though. You died in the arms of the one who's comforted you the most throughout the years; Konan. And, even at that point, despite your uselessness, she smiled and thanked you for everything you had done and told you to rest.

↪ You didn't feel as though you deserved such kindness from her, but you didn't have the strength to fight her at that point and ended up passing away with tears rolling down your bloody, wet face..

↪ Konan loved everything about you. To her, you were the true angel, shielding everyone with your golden wings even when they began to wear down and tear. You were the light that illuminated the darkness that was the Akatsuki—her world—and she's forever grateful to fate that led you two together.

↪ You were pure—purer than the life you led. She hopes that in the next you'll have better, even if that meant she wouldn't be reborn alongside you to see it.

Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx

[mushies-stories]

Bringing you back

Akatsuki x F!reader

This chapter: Hidan- The begining.

summary: You were on a mission that didn't tell you enough information before it was to late. met with Hidan, an Akatsuki member much to powerful or you to fight against. you don't have much to fear, so long as you let him have you and bring you back to the base.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT! MDNI, unprotected sex, swearing. Hidan? let me know if i forgot any!

word count: 2222

You knew now you never should have taken the job. What was asked was far beyond what anormal shinobi could. Now here you are, trapped with one of the world's worst criminals. Your weapons are used or taken and your Jutsu useless. 

“Good try, but you definitely aren't winning against me.” The man known as Hidan taunts with a wicked smile. “With a weak body like this?” he runs his eyes over your body, keeping you easily in place with your hands secured above your head with one of his own. 

You scowl up at him. “Trust me, if I had more information I wouldn't have taken the job.” 

He laughs and swings his scythe, aiming above your head and into the tree, securing it in place there. “That so? Didn’t wanna come out and play with me then? Well since you're here, you might as well anyway, right?” You looked up at him, confusion written across your face. Hidan’s free hand comes to cup your cheek. “Can't let a pretty little thing like you go, can i?” 

Your eyes widen. “What do you mean?

Hidan leans down so his face was level with your own. “Well, unless you want to die I see the only way to let you live is to get some in return for sparing your life, right? You think that's fair don't you?” he says. 

His eyes bore into your own, they almost seemed to put you in a trance. “Wait, no way i'm no-” Hidan leaned down and into the crook of your neck, he bit into the soft flesh causing you to stutter. “Hidan, that hur-ah.” He gives you another sharp nip before he begins sucking at the same spot. You struggle against his hold on you but he just won't let go. “Hidan, please.” you beg softly. You don't want to admit it but he was making you feel good and you couldn't let that happen. 

Fingers trail from your cheek to neck and down to your breast. One large hand feels you up through the fabric of your shirt. Your hips jerk forward a little and your back arched a bit, pushing your chest even more into his hand. “Eager little thing aren't you?” He chuckles against your neck. “Where did all that fight go, get too turned on from just a little bite?” you wanted to resort back, words were on the tip of your tongue, but Hidan suddenly yanking your shirt up and shoving his face into your cleavage cut you off before you could even start. He pulls back enough to pull your bra down and take one of your nipples into his mouth. He didn't torture you for too long, pulling away after just a moment. “I'm going to let your arms go, and you aren't going to run.” he tells you. You nod and he slowly releases your arms and you drop them to your sides with a side of relief. 

“So then you'll have your way and that's it?” you ask, raising a brow up at him. 

He grins devilishly. “Oh you’ll have your way as well.” His hands grab your waist and bring you a step closer to him. He pushes at the sides of your pants and starts to push them down. “I'll make your pretty pussy feel good, don't worry. I’ll make sure to fill you up just right.” he says, tone laced in lust and deviancy. You shudder a little at his words but make no attempt to stop him when he really starts to slide your pants past your ass and to the forest floor. Nudging your thighs apart a little with his hand then he feels how wet your panties have already gotten with his fingers. “Dirty girl, making a mess of your panties.” he snickers before hooking a finger in them and pulling them down too. You shiver, feeling how exposed you were. You were just lucky you were deep in the woods and the possibility of someone seeing you was slim. You watch as he unzips his cloak and adjusts his pants so his cock could spring out. 

It was hard to keep your eyes from looking. You weren’t shocked by how big he was but that didn't make you feel any less intimidated. “That's not… that's not gonna just fit you know.” You try and reason with him.

He chuckles and hooks his hands under your thighs before lifting you, spreading your legs apart so there on either side of his hips. You yelp and throw your arms around his neck, clinging to him. The fat tip of his cock nuzzles between your folds. “Oh it’ll fit, your sweet little pussy is dripping for my cock.” he states, and proves it by gliding his cock through your slick folds, coating his cock. 

You gasp at the feeling, the tip catching a little at your entrance in teasing you. “Just… be careful please.” you pout a little at him. 

He gives you his signature devilish grin as he pushes at your little hole, threatening to push in at any second. “Don't worry, I'll have you coming on my cock in no time.” he promises. Then slowly he pushed the tip in. His hands gripped the fat of your thighs as he slid in a little at a time. You both had to breathe slowly as he sank in. “pussies so fuckin tight.” he grunts. You couldn't respond with anything more than little whimpers and breathy moans. 

You felt every inch and vein on his cock as he bottomed out in you with a low grunt. “Big… so much, filling me up.” you babbled. Getting your pusy stretched open with his cock has clearly already made you cock drunk. 

He huffed a laugh and gave you a second to adjust to him. “That so? Ready to really take me, want to feel really good?” he asks, looking into your glazed eyes. 

You nod a little. “M’ready, please move.” you tell him. 

His cock twitched inside of you. Your face, your sweet voice were just what he needed, he thought. Slowly, painfully slowly for Hida he began to pull back and and sink back into you, repeating the slow action until he could feel your pussy start to relax a little more. “There you go, let me make you feel good. Let me fuck you just right.” he says into your ear before softly biting your lobe. 

Your body jerked against his as he continued his assault and traveled to your neck, biting and sucking anywhere he could reach as he leisurely pumped his cock into you. It felt good, but it quickly wasn't enough. “Hidan…” your voice is quiet, just above a whisper.

“Mm?” he hums from the crook of your neck. 

You let out a soft huff and find the courage to tell him what you needed. “M-More, need you to move more.” you finally rush out. 

He grins before running his teeth over a tender part of your neck. “That's it? What a sweet girl, asking so well for me.” He praised you. He took in the lewd sounds you made when he did as you said and started to fuck into you with more purpose. Snapping his hips in the right place when he noticed more of a reaction from you. “How's that baby girl, pussy feeling better?” he asks.

You nod and let your head lul back a little. “Better, thank you.” you dont even register you were thanking him for fucking you. Getting lost in the bliss his cock was making you feel.

Hidan silently chuckles to himself at your words. You were perfect, taking his cock so well and begging for it? He couldn't help but pound into you, making sure your pussy will remember his cock no matter what. You took everything he gave you, gushing around his length and holding onto him for dear life. Together the sounds you two made filled the forest around you.

“Tell me how you feel, moaning so much for me I want you to tell me how I'm making you feel.” Hidan tells you. You can’t get yourself to speak, too embarrassed about the way his cock was making your pussy feel. “C’mon, you wont get to come if you can't tell me.” He threatens with an evil grin.

That does the trick however, you could feel something building in your core and his cock was making you feel so good. You manage to find all the words you could remember in your cloudy mind. “S’good, big. Fucking me s-so good Hidan. Want more, it feels so good!” you ramble. 

Hidan groans and thrusts a little harder, his fingers grip tightly at your plush skin. “There we go, tell me what you want. What do you want me to do?” he asks. 

You whine as he makes your pussy flutter around his cock. You can feel your orgasm building. “Want you to fuck me, need more. Need to cum, please I wanna cum.” you beg, your breathing labored and your eyes begin to flutter. 

With no problem at all he fasted his pace, bouncing you perfectly on his hard length. “Fuck, need my cock to make your pussy gush? Gonna take my cum too, huh, gonna be a good girl and take all of it?” Hidan didn't think you would be this good, so tight and begging so perfectly for his cock.

You nod and wrap your arms around his neck, bringing yourself closer so your face is buried in the crook of his neck. “Need all of it, want you to fill me up. Need to be filled with Hidan cum” you beg, you can't seem to stop. No one has ever made you feel this good before. “Want all of it Hidan.”

Your voice was like music to Hidan’s ears. “That's it, what a good girl, you listen so well when you got a big cock stuffed in your little pussy dont you.” Hidan kept that firm grip on your thighs, making sure your pussy was stretched perfectly on his cock as he slammed his hips up into you. Hidan would prefer to see how wrecked you looked while he fucked you, but he figured letting you cling to him was okay for now. He already decided you were coming back with him, how couldn't he when you begged for him so perfectly? No for now he would let you cling to him and whine about how good he was fucking you. 

“M’so close, Hi-Hidan please i wanna…” A shaky moan leaves you before you can finish your sentence. Instead of trying again you resort to begging in the simplest way and plead over and over. You dont think you’ve ever said the word please so many times in your life before. 

Hidan chuckles at the sound of you. Your body was beginning to shake in his arms as he moved your body in time with his hips. “Need to cum? Your pussy is starting to really squeeze me, trying to drain my cock with you?” he teases. He wasn’t lying however, the grip you had on him had his balls aching and cock twitching and leaking precum. 

You shake your head. “Y-yes, please!” you managed to choke out. You wrap your legs tightly around his back, locking him in place and giving him little room to really pull out. 

“That's it. Fucking perfect pussy, cum for me sweet thing, let go on my cock.” He encourages you, keeping his pace and roughness how you seemed to like it best. You could feel it creeping up, building more and more until you were a whining babbling mess in his arms. You pussy clamped down on his cock as you held tightly onto him. “Fuuck, there you go, cumming so fucking good for me. Pussy begging for me to fill it up.” Hidan grunts while he fucks you through your orgasm. Once he feels your pussy start to flutter and the grip on his cock lessen a bit he finally lets go.

His cock twitched as his cum paints your insides and gives your body a tingling after shock. “Hidan, fuck that fe-els so good.” you whine, squeezing your legs a little to force him as deep as he can go. He groans and squeezes your thighs a bit more roughly as he comes down from his own high. “Gunna make sure your pretty pussy is satisfied everyday.” Hidan says before beginning to pull out. 

“W-wait!” you yelp, causing him to stop in place. 

“Huh? Can't get enough can you?” Hidan starts to say cockily. 

You shake your head. “No, what do you mean everyday?”

You shudder and gasp when he pushes his cock all the way back in. “Oh babygirl, you're mine now, but I promise you'll be well taken care of.” he grins at you. “c’mon, why not?” It was hard to think properly, your body was still reacting to him and all you wanted to do right now was lay down and fall asleep. “We can talk about it later, let's just get you back and cleaned up first.”

You were passed out on Hidan's back before you even made it out of the forest. You had time to worry later, right?

!thanks for reading!

[depressedhatakekakashi]

what are your favourite kakashi moments that made you love him as a character?

Ohhh I have so many.

From Og Naruto.

When Naruto whinned about doing another 'boring mission' and asked if they were going to chase cats again, and Kakashi just responded with a 'purrhaps'.

His whole talk about the importance of teamwork and protecting your teammates. His beliefs are made clear from day one and it's very friend oriented which i love.

How he showed respect to Zabuza, the man he'd been fighting just minutes before.

When he talks to Naruto about rivals and looks at Gai. after playing the 'cool guy' and continuing to bother Gai by asking him what he'd said it was really cool to see that he clearly felt the same way about their rivalry as Gai did.

Saving Sakura in the Konoha Crush. no hesitation, man cut two shinobi down in an instant to protect his daughter student

Walking away from Tsunade while she was trying to give him a new mission and heading out to find his students instead.

Fighting back to back with Gai in the konoha crush arc. Up to this point Kakashi has been a protector. the one guarding his students and fighting alone. To see him fighting back to back with someone, thus protecting them while allowing them to protect him, was really cool and showed how deep their bond is.

when he told Iruka that Naruto was working to be a shinobi like him. He was being so sweet and cheerful, and i love how he reminds Iruka just how much Naruto looks up to him.

Knowing how to open the first gate. It's pretty clear Kakashi has rather negative feelings about the gates when he finds out Gai taught them to Lee, but here he is using the first gate because he can at least appreciate its use (but still sticks to using only the gate that doesn't cause any significant negative effects to his body)

Shippuden

How he just talks to Lady Chiyo when they're on their way to locate Sasori and Deidara. Dude has no reason really to be nice to her considering the welcome he got from her, but when she asked about Naruto's drive to save Gaara Kakashi did not hold back on telling her about his student. (In general just how he treats everyone around him with kindness, even his enemies)

Getting frustrated with Naruto not listening to him and physiclly having to grab him and pull him back in their fight against Deidara because he needs Naruto to work WITH him, not against him because he's allowing his anger to get to him. big mood my dude.

How he spent his time stuck in the hospital thinking about how to improve the team, and ultimately accepted that the only person he could really help improve at the ridiculous rate they needed was Naruto. If he could have found a way to improve his own skills at that incredable pace i have no doubt he would have gone with that idea, but he accepted that it was time for him to help Naruto surpass him.

How he stepped in without hesitation to save Team Gai when Deidra decided to blow himself up in hopes of taking them down with him

how he does the same thing for Iruka, putting himself into a battle against Pein he has next to no chance of winning so he can give others an opportuity to escape to safety.

His cute challenges with Gai. I just love how he actually lets himself relax and goes full dork mode around Gai <3

how he smiles at Sai and tells him that he belives in him

"Sensei is sorry" it's so stupid but cute and I love how he obviously recognizes he needs to explain things a bit slower for Naruto.

Bullying tenzo. One is not a true friend if you cannot bully each other XD

Stopping lightning with his hands to protect Team Seven from Kakuzu's attack

Being such a sneaky shit that he's able to take out Kakuzu's first heart before his presence is even known.

the entire hidan and Kakuzu vs Kakashi fight tbh. I love how he's just jumping around dodging Hidan like it's not big deal XD

his background! The loss of his father, Obito's death, Rin's death, Minato's death. This man really watched as people around him dropped like flies and still refused to stop believing in other people.

And so so so much more. I love a lot of what he does and who he is. He's a facinating character

[immoralimmortals]

ok so what if, hear me out Takara was pregnant (gasp) nah like I want to hear your thoughts on this

So all cards on the table...miracle of life, wonderful, wonderful thing... Yeah, I know all that. But all the same, pregnancy to me is largely a form of body horror. A lot of this is going to be on the fly since it's not my cup of tea. So putting that aside and trying to make the subject warm and romantic, here are some thoughts on what it'd be like if Takara was pregnant:

You KNOW they dote on her. Absolute kings. There isn't a day that passes where ten separate Akatsuki members come up to her, if not multiple times, to make sure she's okay.

Itachi swears she's radiant, glowing like she's holy. You've heard this all before in other headcanons on this site-- he's over the moon with love. Glued to her side, yet somehow not overbearing. 10/10, I'd let this man be with me during my morning sickness. Takara will want for nothing. Probably becomes the most overtly sweet and romantic in al the time they've known each other, gently stroking her skin and kissing her head. When it comes to the point where she's "showing", he's quick to tell Kisame to do tasks for Takara whenever she's about to do something, and he has to be reminded she's not useless and it's good for both her and the pregnancy to continue being active.

You thought Kisame was awkward and cautious *before*? He's at the point where every single little touch, regardless how small or where it is on her body, is so, so purposeful. Nothing he does is haphazard. He will clear paths for her if necessary. He's her knight, her guardian, placing himself between her and the rest of the world. Definitely at one point rests his head on her belly and cries. He's very quick to answer to Itachi's orders and further enables inactivity. It is a lot easier to use his body to interact with other things than it is to use it to directly touch her; he's up for anything. He'll mow down a mountain just so she could go for a walk without having an incline. He will walk to town to buy her flowers every single day.

Hidan gets...quieter around her, especially as the pregnancy begins to show. He's more observant than before. Still gets into his usual attitudes if he doesn't understand or see something coming ("What? You seemed FINE a second ago! What do you MEAN you're gonna throw up!")...but he's certainly taking all this in. What does it mean to Jashin if someone brings forth life instead of takes it? He holds his prayer beads and feels the sigil between his fingers, only shutting his eyes to pray once she is surely asleep. He'll wonder a lot, eventually out loud, what the baby is going to be like, who they'll grow up to be, what it'll be like to have one around. He won't say it, but he's nervous as hell for that part. It's a whole new human being.

Kakuzu is so fucking stressed. This man is the closest in the group to being a normal-ass man with a normal-ass job and goal. He is trying to coordinate enough income for eleven fucking people to live at least somewhat comfortably. You're going to add a BABY? Good lord he might break. That being said, he's a worrywort that's always a little bit on edge. If someone is fucking around with her or the pregnancy too much, he will actually hit you. ...But not until he took you outside, she doesn't need to see it and stress herself or the baby. He is also especially concerned about accidentally being too rough. She'd have to convince him to touch her or sit next to her. Once she does? He finally relaxes, and he's in heaven. There's a whole world that fits right in his arms. He has a second chance not just with her but this child to have a life worth living.

Deidara is the most to treat her like...a normal human being undergoing a body change? I'm not saying he's uncaring, more like he's the best at not losing his fucking mind. Most willing to just hang out and not make it weird, let her do things on her own. Other people-- no, literally everyone else-- will see her reaching up in the kitchen cabinet for a mug and will scold him for not jumping to do it for her. He argues otherwise-- and it makes sense-- so therefore the other person gets pissed off. He tells Takara to be grateful for what he does for her independence, and she genuinely is, rewarding him with a kiss on the cheek that makes him bright red. It makes him stutter and try to move on so things are normal again. I think like Hidan-- even more so actually-- he's very curious about what it'll be like once the baby is around. It's fun to see her change little by little, day by day, too.

Sasori doesn't like change. That's kind of his whole bit. He isn't looking forward to the noise, the filth, the troubles of a baby and then later another growing person. So the pregnancy is kind of a precursor for that. Once it's clear that yes, this baby is coming, he has to make peace with it. He's the one that's most attentive about her physical health and body. He'll notice any change in color of her skin-- reddening or paling-- catch on to ANY morning sickness before she even says a word. She'd have to remind him that regardless of if the stretch marks stay, they're a part of her right now, and with that explanation he begrudgingly appreciates them. He eventually becomes entranced by the idea of teaching the child what he knows.

Konan is...wistful, I think, as well as in awe. She's kind of like Itachi in that she's very present, very gentle. But Takara being pregnant gives her a lot of...thought. Surely when she was born-- when Nagato and Yahiko were born-- their parents, too, had the best intentions in the world. A piece of her is afraid. The best laid plans can still fall into ruin, the intentions of being good parents and giving a happy life certainly did not happen to her and her friends. That being said, she finds comfort in being a pragmatic planner. She's the one that gets a routine for Takara both prenatal and then postnatal, the one that strategized how the baby is going to be educated, what kind of food they need, etc. So if nothing else-- if anything and everything goes wrong-- they at least have a plan to follow even if they panic. She also, like Itachi, finds her radiant in this time. I can see her sitting with Takara and holding her hand for hours on end, just finding peace in how much she loves her right now.

Nagato picks up where Konan leaves off on the whole planning thing. She is not to be alone at any time. She wants to go for a walk? Kisame, walk ten paces ahead, Kakuzu, ten paces behind, Deidara, go up in the trees. If she so much as scrapes her knee, there will be consequences. This will NOT be fucked up. He won't say it, but he loves her even more right now than he ever thought he could. He thinks that despite all her flaws-- any human has flaws, of course-- Takara will be the best mother to grace this universe or any other.

"Tobi" is so, so excited. While Konan is sitting next to her, he's on the floor, wrapping around Takara's legs, talking endlessly about how much fun the baby is going to be. He's also excessively careful and protective, which is in earnest at heart but also being played up so no one second guesses he's an idiot. He will throw away a cup of tea if he deems it too hot for her to drink, uncaring if it hits and spills on someone else. In private...he's quieter. I can see him putting on her socks for her as she has trouble bending, and he does it nearly reverently, looking up at her through that mask with a gaze she can feel as adoring. Obito is feeling every emotion possible. He's afraid, he's overjoyed, he's shaken, he's happy. This situation is the culmination of everything he's come to want while Takara has been here. He looks at her carrying this baby like she's Mary, mother of Jesus.

Zetsu is the funniest one. He doesn't get it. Like he DOES-- there'd be a joke where he'd say he doesn't get it and Tobi begins to explain where babies came from and Zetsu would yell at him to shut up-- but he doesn't get it. He's like me, the author, in the sense that like...if you really want to experience parenthood...why are you making a whole new baby? There are so many babies out there who NEED a parent. And you're going to fill up that slot? Humans are really genuinely so selfish, what the hell. That aside, he's at least mindful of her, in a physical and medical sense. He asks her questions, in the rare moments she is alone, and he genuinely listens and tries to engage. I think he would, finally, in at least a little way "get it" when Takara invites him to put an ear to her stomach and listen.

Everyone is excited to see who the father is, regardless of how much they say it does or doesn't matter.

[woofgang69]

Oooh for the spotify wrapped challenge, can I ask for n°12 and Deidara :3

josh you could ask for the world 💕 #12 is red wine supernova so while you only asked for deidara this definitely is a shippy song so i made it itadei. it's sfw but there's like a hint of spice because of the song lmao. also sorry it's so long 😂

Deidara adjusted his sunglasses before repositioning himself on his lawn chair, attempting to look good while also attempting to look like he wasn’t trying to look good.  He glanced over at his neighbor’s yard, hoping to find someone looking back, but Itachi was still focused on weeding the flower bed right in front of him.  Deidara huffed loudly and considered throwing something at Itachi to get his attention, but ultimately decided against it as it wouldn’t get him what he really wanted. The sun was high in the sky by the time Itachi eventually finished, three full trash bags surrounding him.  Some of his hair had escaped his ponytail and there was a smudge of dirt on his cheek, and Deidara’s mouth felt dry as he watched Itachi use his shirt to wipe the sweat off of his face.  Itachi dropped his shirt and finally seemed to notice Deidara, his lips twisting into something that was almost a smile.   “Hey Deidara.”  Itachi didn’t raise his voice, but he didn’t need to, his words clearly carrying across the small space between them.   “Hey.”  Deidara didn’t raise his voice either, wanting to appear nonchalant, but he must have sounded uninterested as Itachi was already starting to turn away.  “Do you want some lemonade?”  He held up the bottle he specifically bought for Itachi up as he asked.  Itachi’s forehead creased as he thought about the offer. “Are you sure?” “Yeah I don’t mind.”  Deidara’s voice was light and a little coy, which he hoped was the reason Itachi decided to come over.  He took the bottle with a small smile, and Deidara watched him drink it behind the safety of his sunglasses.  “So I heard you like magic.”  “Yeah…”  Itachi’s cheeks turned a dark shade of red, though that might have been because of the sun.  Deidara gave Itachi a flirtatious sort of smile as he lowered his sunglasses. “Well I’ve got a wand and rabbit.”  Deidara felt a little embarrassed at saying it so boldly, but Hidan had given him the line, telling him to try something more direct with Itachi.  Itachi must’ve understood exactly what he meant as his eyes widened. “You have a rabbit?”   “Yeah.”  Deidara flipped his hair, emboldened by Itachi’s obvious interest.  “I can show you if you want.”   “Right now?”  It wasn’t an answer, not really, but Deidara took it as one anyway.  He gave Itachi a sharp smile before grabbing his hand and pulling him towards his front door.  He pulled Itachi through the living room, ignoring Hidan and his exaggerated wink, and all the way up the stairs.  Then Deidara pushed him towards his twin-sized bed. “Give me a second.”  Itachi looked around the room as Deidara rooted through the bottom drawer of his dresser.  His face felt hot once he grabbed his rabbit, overly aware of the other sex toys that it was buried under.  He waited until his face felt a little cooler before standing up and facing Itachi.  Itachi looked at him curiously, but then his entire face turned a dark shade of red as he noticed what Dediara was holding. “You meant that kind of rabbit?”  Itachi’s voice was pitched all weird. “Yeah…wait did you think I was talking about the animal?”  Itachi looked embarrassed as he nodded in answer to Deidara’s question.  Deidara wanted to bury his head in his hands, his own embarrassment too overwhelming to bear, but he was still holding his sex toy.  “Oh my god.  Please pretend like this never happened.  Actually please just forget all about me.”  Itachis’ face was still all red, but his expression softened. “I could never forget about you, Deidara.”  Itachi grabbed Deidara’s wrist and gently pulled him into his lap.  Deidara quickly tossed his rabbit onto his bed so he could wrap his arms around Itachi’s neck for balance.  “While this wasn’t really what I was expecting, I kind of like you.”

Deidara knew he should probably say it back, but he leaned in and kissed Itachi instead.

[tobstr]

Hidan x reader

It's our favorite jashinist guys!!

I might rewrite it in the future I'm not sure if I liked how this one played out 🤷

If you've seen my other one shot you would know that I'm pulling my inspiration from @immoralimmortals

Im a real big fan of their fic a song with ten names and decided to make my own one shot backed around each of the akatsuki relationships with the reader

Oh btw! The readers name is takara same thing applies here!!

Now just below is the fic ↓

Hidan was a religious man

one who worshiped his lord with blood

and offered tributes of death and destruction for his lord

jashin, such a holy name

one that gifted him an angel

takara

a lady that jashin himself had sent for him

he didn't believe it at first, till jashin showed him her beauty

not to mention the wonderful melodies she brought with her

…

there she was as radiant as ever

the jashinist didn't quite understand intimacy like how most would

he enjoyed hurting and destroying things, leaving his mark on the world in the name of jashinist

He found pleasure in both his own and the pain of others

And yet here he laid his head in her lap

resting on her pale dress

her eyes were closed

as she lightly dragged the sharp blade of a kunai across his skin

if she applied any pressure shed surly cut him

it made him antsy

she was so gentle

yet she carried so much sorrow

and a sin of her own

he had found her frazzled and scared

and yet, she had it in her to kill

just that had made him believe jashin had set them to meet

he could almost say it was meant to happen

his lovely angel…

hed carve her sins into a prayer...

To clear her head and rid her of sorrow

…

she pressed down just a it more

the pain was almost euphoric

blood seeped into her dress

dying what was white to red

she continued to slit and slash at him

much to his delights

His hand reached out to the hazy light above him

the tips of his fingers leave marks of blood on her face as his hand cupped her cheek

he could feel the blood loss seeping into him

it felt so nice, he was on cloud 9

he felt warm, a smile tugged at his lips as he half lidded stared up at her

It was ephoric

she was glowing like an angel

she was here all for him

and gosh red complimented her skin so well

his eyes flicker closed for a moment

…

she was glorious

covered in blood

everyone else died around them

a wonderful tribute to their lord

he met with her in the clearing of the village looking at the wonderful destruction they had caused

his hands held hers, hands red and pure a symbol of their love

he brushed her hair out of her face hands now cupping her cheeks

her eyes were closed

at this moment he felt truly happy

what better then to express his admiration for his angel

he firmly held her still as he pressed his lips against hers

the light taste of iron on his tongue

…

she leaned back

looking down at him his head on here lap

his blood on her pale dress

she was beautiful

her eyes glimmered so nicely

she smiled, creases forming in the corner of her mouth

she was so soft, so gentle with the way she harmed him

she was delicat, like glass

he was careful not to break her

what a pitiful state she would be in

hed wouldn't want to see her so pathetic

hell hold her close

nice and tight

no one could take her from him

she could never break

she was so small

the symbol of jashin pressed between them

oh he was grateful for his lord

he'd never doubt him again

what a great disciple she was

wonderful listener too

he could never find a replacement

not ever in is immortal life

she was his angel...

…

…

…

And just like that ...

It all faded away...

lazy eyes opened, he was annoyed his dream was cut short

it hadn't even gotten to the good part

…

maybe it wasn't so good he dreamed of her so often …

And here he thought she was the one clinging to him

[smh-yoon]

akatsuki - fucking you dumb

a/n: if you didn't know, i have an akatsuki bf/gf scenario book on wattpad and i was writing something for pein today that got a little spicy, so i had to bring it here. this will include all nine members, not including orochimaru.

pairings: pein, konan, hidan, kakuzu, deidara, sasori, obito, kisame, itachi x fem! reader

genre: smut; fem! on fem!, male! on fem!

warnings: dirty dirty talk!! (praise and degrading), swearing, creampie, fingering, giving head - male and fem receiving, exhibitionism, threesome, possessiveness, choking, toxic behavior (obito), tentacles, spitting, manhandling?, pool sex ofc

enjoy ;)

PEIN

the cold wood of the desk brushed against your nipples with every thrust of pein's hard cock into your cunt, adding to the buildup of your approaching orgasm.

he had your hands locked behind your back, using them to tug you backwards onto his leaking dick as he threw his head back. the best part about him being such a skilled shinobi is that he had plenty of stamina.

slick was dripping down your thighs, and he'd already fucked you through your first orgasm. his fingers were pressing hard against your skin where he was gripping you, jaw clenching as he felt his own climax approach.

suddenly he was pressing you down against the desk, arching your back with one hand and setting an all new pace as he drilled into you. in moments, you were gushing around him, nearly screaming as he brushed you g-spot until he was pumping his load into you, cum dripping down your shaking thighs.

KONAN

konan's bare breasts were pressed against your back, nipples hard against your skin as she fingered you from behind.

she was determined to make you squirt for the third time today, tears already dripping down your cheeks as you jerked from the sensitivity of your aching cunt. you couldn't help arching into her hand, desperately seeking your orgasm.

the sheets under you were soaked in your cum, and konan's fingers were sticky with your slick from fingering you non stop. her other hand reached around your stomach as she began thrusting her fingers faster.

the other hand flicked at your clit, circling and pressing hard as you sobbed in pleasure. you came again, crying out as the intense sensation made you eyes roll back.

HIDAN

hidan's obnoxious laugh made you want to cry, choking on kakuzu's cock in your mouth and he fucked you harder from behind. he was so sure you were into kakuzu enough that he invited him into a threesome, not the kakuzu minded.

his fingers threaded through your hair, the tugging making your eyes rolling back as you swallowed around his thick cock. "just like that slut. couldn't live with just one cock fuckin' you, huh? had to have two."

your jaw went slack as hidan kept up his bruising pace, paying no mind to the increasing volume of the hums you could get out around kakuzu. hidan's voice reached your ears in the haze of the moment.

"gonna cum in you, then watch kuzu fuck my cum back into your cunt. show him how good you take it whore."

KAKUZU

kakuzu was still counting money in the corner of the room, paying no mind to you as you writhed on the bed, bound by long tendrils stretching from his form. two skinnier ones alternated thrusting into your pussy, another flicking your clit.

this was your punishment, for forgetting to pick up one of his bounties. no big deal, he could always get some other quick cash, but there was no way he was letting you off easy.

"kakuzu.. please!" you were so close to the edge it hurt, but he never let you cum. not for the past half hour you'd been tied with your hands above your head.

his eyes flicked lazily to you, gaze dark as a smirk slid onto his face. with a chuckled he sent another tendril your way, watching it slide around your neck.

"shut up, i have to restart now."

DEIDARA

long blonde hair brushed against your shoulders as your eyes rolled back, deidara's hand on your shoulder holding you up as he pushed his cock past your walls.

he'd made a bet with hidan that he could fuck you till you cried, and he was sure to deliver. you were in tears after the first orgasm, after he ate your pussy out the way he knew best. and another bet later, now he was determined to fuck you till he couldn't cum anymore.

hidan was sitting directly in front of you at the edge of bed in his own chair, cock pulled out of his pants, leaking from the tip. he'd been barking orders all night, telling deidara where to touch, cum, how to fuck you and your mouth properly. if you didn't hate hidan so much, you might've thanked him for the advice, because you were getting your brains fucked out.

he stood from his spot, coming close and grabbing your jaw roughly, watching you gaze up at him through hazy eyes. then he was spitting into your open mouth, watching you flinch and moan and deidara fucked you faster as he sat back down and enjoyed the show.

SASORI

sasori was quick to attach as many strings as he wanted to your limbs, controlling you just the way he wanted, his own personal fuck doll. he'd watched you finger yourself, fuck yourself with whichever synthetic cock he chose, and now he was watching you choke down his own.

he had all the power, and he knew it got you off too. never having to worry that pretty, empty head about having to do any work. he might as well keep you with his other puppets, if that's all you were good for.

a groan left his mouth as you choked around him, swallowing and moaning at the way he filled your throat.

when he looked back down at you, one of his puppets leaning against the wall caught his attention. his newest, and by far the biggest he'd built. he rung his fingers in your hair and pulled you off his cock, petting your face as you gasped for air.

"get up. we're doing something new."

OBITO

"what the fuck were you doing? huh? think you can run off to some other man?"

you were sobbing into the pillows, back aching as obito pounded into you. it hurt, so so good. he was using you however he wanted, you were his stress relief, but that didn't mean you could get away with whoring yourself out to the akatsuki. not that you actually did, he was just a jealous freak when it came to you.

he reached around your shoulders and leaned down, sweaty chest pressed against your back as he got close to your ear, nearly growling as he spoke.

"you remember no one will ever fuck you like this. you're fucking mine."

KISAME

one of kisame's ultimate fantasies was to let him hunt you down in the water, a predator-prey type situation. you always worried he'd take it too far, maybe hurt you, accidentally drown you. as his thick cock slid into your pussy for the first time that night, warm water lapping at your skin, his hands holding you tight against him, you couldn't help but wonder why you waited so long.

while he'd pulled you to a quiet shore of a hidden cove, you were worried you were still too loud, that the world would hear.

kisame's shark teeth grazed your shoulder as he let out a shuddering breath against your skin, feeling your nails dig into his back. the feeling of his razor sharp teeth made you nearly freeze with terror, but you tightened around him as your body tingled.

"hope you can handle a little blood."

ITACHI

as much as you wanted itachi to trap you in an endless sex fantasy with a genjutsu, he was a much more gentle lover. not that you minded, he always made sure your needs were more than fulfilled.

he was taking his time lapping up your pussy, sucking and kissed and tonguing wherever he could reach. he lived for the feeling of your hips bucking into his mouth, fingers gripping his hair from the overwhelming pleasure he gave you.

he knew you so well, listened to your breathing and the volume of your moans, hearing them get more high pitched as you neared your orgasm.

"come on pretty girl, let me take care of you."

<3 <3 <3

[yowyowyaoi]

Kakuzu, stumbling into Hidan's room: Oi, brat? Braaaat?! What are you doing? Hidan, in bed, half-asleep: What the fuck do you want?! Kakuzu: I want you, you sexy asshole. *gets into bed with Hidan* C'mon, let's get naked and do dirty things to each other ~ Hidan: What the fuck ... old man. Go back to your room. You're drunk. Kakuzu: What? You don't think I love you? You complain all the time that I never want to do it. I wanna do it now, baby ~ Hidan: *gets out of bed and pulls Kakuzu to his feet* Hidan: Oi, I may be a dumb bastard, but even I know it's wrong to take advantage of someone who ain't in their right head. Kakuzu: Head? I could give you some spectacular head, Hidan. *starts trying to unbutton Hidan's pajama pants* Want a demonstration? Hidan: *grabs Kakuzu's hand and holds it in his own* No. If you still want to tomorrow, fine. But not now. Not like this. Now come on ... *starts guiding Kakuzu back to his room* It's time to sleep, eh? Kakuzu: You ... Hidan you're so good to me. You're too good for me. I'm in love with you ... Hidan: *gets Kakuzu to his room, and tucks him carefully into bed* Yeah, yeah ... I love you too, you drunk old fuck. *kisses Kakuzu's forehead* Now sleep, okay? Kakuzu: Okay. Hey, hey Hidan? We're getting married soon. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe -- *nods off and starts snoring* *the next day* Hidan: So, bastard, a few thoughts for our wedding. White and yellow flowers, one of those churches with the stained glass windows, a cake with -- Kakuzu, on his knees and hanging over the toilet, puking: A wedding? IN THIS ECONOMY?!

[wing-ed-thing]

Hidan x Reader x Kakuzu Love Triange Headcanons

𓆃 So... you're dead.

𓆃 Not to say that Hidan or Kakuzu are completely incapable of love... but it's not going to be traditional, healthy, and even the chances of the best case that you're even satisfied in this partnership is slim to none.

𓆃 And it all depends on you. Because the most important factor here is that you can hold your own with these two. It's like a bad choose your own adventure novel.

𓆃 Even that is pretty high stakes considering that they're both practically immortal and also prone to outbursts of anger and violence.

𓆃 Hidan's affection is like a puppy love. He gets attached quickly, impatiently, and possessively. And given things don't go quite his way, he will lash out without thought. Not to mention his inevitable bordom.

𓆃 Kakuzu's affection is slow and creeping. There's a fondness that must never overstep onto things he deems more important, because the moment you slip in the hierarchy of things holding his attention, he will strike as suddenly and quietly as his initial affection.

𓆃 Your best chances come if you happen to be a near-perfect match for each other. Because Hidan isn't accepting anyone that he cannot share his faith with— remember, Lord Jashin comes first— and Kakuzu won't let anything stop his prioritization of money.

𓆃 Ideally, perhaps you may be more skilled or offer a unique ability that compliments the two. Perhaps you are a religious scholar or are a cut-throat loan shark. It's a tricky balance to strike.

𓆃 The most promising thing about this scenario is that Kakuzu and Hidan will likely get distracted by each other. As possessive as they are, it's likely that their pride will get in the way and they'll duke it out with each other.

𓆃 It's probably best if you keep it this way, as you don't have to deal with the inevitable boredom that will likely come with actually partnering up with one or the other.

𓆃 Throw your weight around, show your skill, and don't show interest.

𓆃 The safest option would be Kakuzu. He's more predictable, and while money is king, this is something that can be more easily shared. Any rule-breakers around money can be avoided as he is the more logical of the two.

𓆃 While Kakuzu isn't easily impressed by any means, his respect can be won over (which would guarantee a degree of safety and may lead to a thriving partnership).

𓆃 Competence in negotiating, a fair but aggressive bargainer (without being cheeky), knowledge of politics... Kakuzu can be won over in a series of discussion.

𓆃 Compliments by Kakuzu include, but are not limited to, "You have a good head on your shoulders," "You drive a hard bargain," and "Hmp," accompanied by a surprised, yet impressed dip of his lip and nod of his head.

𓆃 (Bonus points if his arms are crossed.)

𓆃 For Hidan, Jashin will always come first. Failure to join or follow new edicts will result in your death. Failure to be as devoted as Hidan would like would likely result in your death. Hidan is also more distractible.

𓆃 Compliments from Hidan don't go much past crass comments about your body, but sometimes he'll say random out of pocket things that make you laugh and he really likes making you laugh.

𓆃 He's really bad at it because he doesn't quite understand what it is that makes you laugh, but he gets such satisfaction out of getting you to laugh.

𓆃 You have to play it by ear. If you hold them off too long, they'll get bored. Really, you have to just pick one eventually and pray it works out.

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

Three-Man Squad Relationship Headcanons with Kakuzu and Hidan

[ladykissingfish]

Hey I saw you take a few requests so I thought I’d send you my own. Could you write some (platonic) Nagato and Konan?

*Konan enters Nagato's room with a bowl something and some bread* Konan: Nagi? It's time to eat. Nagato: I'm not hungry, Konan. Konan: You didn't eat breakfast or lunch, so I'm sorry but there's no way I'm letting you skip dinner, too. *sits by his chair and puts the spoon into the bowl* Say "ahh". Nagato: *sighs, then swallows the mouthful she's giving him* I hate this. You have no idea how badly I hate this. Konan: Y-you hate chicken and dumplings? It used to be your favorite! Nagato: Not the soup, Konan! This!! You having to take care of me like I'm an infant. You having to take care of everyone else in the Akatsuki while I can only rot here and send my Pein bodies to do my work for me. Nagato, softly: I'm so sorry I'm having you waste your life this way. I truly am. Konan: Nagato. Shut your mouth. You presume to talk to your onee-san this way? I have half a mind to dump this entire bowl right over your head, you -- Nagato: Onee-san? Konan: In all this time, all these years ... haven't we earned the right to call each other family? Nagato: I-- Konan: You're my brother. You couldn't be any more my brother than if I'd seen my mother give birth to you. Same with Yahiko. And same with all of these lunatics running around here. A family you choose is just as good as the one that got taken away; or at least it is to me. And family takes care of each other, no matter what. Nagato, tearing up: S-sis ... Konan: *holds out the spoon to him* Now are you going to feed yourself? Or am I gonna have to hold your mouth open and shove it in? Nagato: *picks up his spoon* You wouldn't do that ... Deidara and Hidan, passing by holding their jaws: Yes she would. Nagato:

I hope this is okay, @littleflowerfaerie

[or0ch1maru]

hello Cj! I hope you've been doing well! I'm sorry that you've been working so hard this past weekend :( I hope you rest well and get some time to unwind and do smth fun!

I LOOVED your headcanons of snuggling/cuddling with kakuzu🩷 can I request a hidan version?

hello my pretty bby♡︎I’ve been having a lovely few days off thank you, relaxing and catching up on some stuff. Just took a hot ass shower to help my muscles after the gym. And of course, let’s get into it🫵🏻

18+ MINORS, and ageless blogs DNI. Short blurb of sex w Hidan

•

-Hidan is similar to his partner in ways he treats and cherishes his woman

-he is both vocal and physical about his love for you. His main way is through sex. Leaving bite marks and hickeys in places people can see them, your neck, collarbones, thighs, even leaving scars from his teeth along your neck, wrists and arms. Just so people know you belong to him

-he’s huge on consent, especially since he’s a rough lover. He doesn’t make love, he fucks, HARD

-he’s loud about it too, tellin’ you how much he loves you and your pretty cunt, how he could live like this inside you, how pretty you are and how lucky he is to be the only one to have you this way

-where you go, he goes

-if anyone gives him weird looks about being glued to your hip, he gives them an even nastier look if he doesn’t straight up tell them to fuck off and mind their business

-but back to touch, he’s got to have a hand on you. Whether it’s playing with your hair, hand in your back pocket, or the small of your back. Or walking with his fingers intertwined through your belt loop

-even when you two are sitting on the couch around the other members, his arm wrapped around you, resting gently on top of your breast.

-or wrapping around your neck, no squeezing, just resting against your delicate, scarred skin

-when you rest between his legs, your back against him, his hand casually cups over your pussy, even when he’s not trying to do anything sexual. He just loves touchin’ you

-when you two are alone in your shared room, he’s like your own weighted blanket, he’ll lay on top of you, watching his positions so he doesn’t crush or hurt you

-he loves skin to skin

-you two will just hang out and cuddle naked, he’ll have you sitting in his lap, calloused hands resting on the soft flesh of your hips. Admiring your form

-taking in all your scars, any form of blemishes, doesn’t care about acne or if you’re chubby, he goes crazy when he sees your stretch marks

-he’ll caress every part of you, especially the things you’re most insecure about. Hidan will kiss you head to two, telling you how beautiful you are to him

-sees you as a goddess

-one that deserves to be worshipped, gifted, and treated like one should

-another thing Hidan includes in your cuddles is deep, raw, and passionate make out sessions.

-his hands holding the back of your head as he nips at your bottom lip, his tongue exploring the inside of your mouth while yours does the same to him

-now, not every time ends up with sex but when it does, he’s turned into a needy puddle

-begging you to use him, ride him and take him any way you need him

-head thrown back as his hands travel up and down your body, gripping you wherever he can, whines and whimpers falling from his lips as you slam your hips down his girth

-“baby, baby f-fuck. Bein’ so good for ya doll. Please.”

-he begs, not sure what he’s begging for but it just feels right. Just like Kakuzu, he feels like you were made for him, made to take and please him

-but back to the cuddles(may or may not have gotten of track but ya know, can’t help it with him)

-your shared bed has tons of blankets on it, just to make the two of you into burritos when you’re pressed against him

-your hands wrapped around his head as your chests are touching, his hands holding you at the small of your back, keeping your body up against him

-he also likes being little spoon. Feeling your small form pressed against his back while your arm wraps around his torso, holding him to you

-he’ll cup your hand in his, holding it against his chest, letting his heart beat against you, even though you can’t feel it. It gives him a sense of calm, and security

-when you’re on your cycle, (just like his partner, he makes sure your stocked on everything you could need and runs bubble baths for you) but he uses his hand as your personal heater

-he radiates so much warmth that the second his hand touches your lower belly or back, your cramps fade

-have y’all seen any of the videos where a bf will pull down his shirt just to expose his cute lil gf hiding inside

-that’s Hidan. Would love for you to live in his skin lol. The rare times he wears a shirt or hoodie, he holds it open for you to climb into. Smiles to himself when he sees that you’ve fallen asleep in there

-and lastly, on missions, he’ll wrap his cloak around you, engulfing you in his scent and the warmth of his chest

-he’ll walk with you that way for however long either of you please

-which will be the entire trip there and back

[gfguren]

hidan | !suggestive | cw: choking, mentions of blood, cursing, hidan being hidan

-playing chicken with hidan-

He's a streak of red amidst the dark forest, terrifying but beautiful. He smiles as he approaches and you realize he's in one of his moods. He always is when he returns like that, smiling and covered in the blood of another.

So deliciously sadistic.

He raises a bloodied hand, knuckles grazing the expanse of your jawline, gently - so gently it makes you nervous. Your breath hitches in your throat, wary of the tenderness that's so unlike him. And he notices, of course. A wicked smirk tears at the corners of his mouth, the moonlight making him look almost sinister. "Are you afraid of me, sweetheart?"

You know full well Hidan could snap one day, succumbing to the bloodlust that bubbles just below the surface; the insanity he suppresses just for you, his sweet, naive little pastime. And it scares you sometimes, if you're completely honest. But by the gods is it exciting, the outlier in your otherwise monotonous life.

"No."

It's the truth but Hidan tilts his head to the side, humming with doubt. And when his fingers move to encircle your throat, you stay completely still. He watches you, studies your expression, lower lip tucked between his teeth. He seems almost disappointed at your lack of reaction, pressing down harder, harder, harder until you fold, eyes fluttering shut and hand grasping desperately at his wrist.

"Please," you breathe. He considers letting you struggle, letting his knuckles turn white until your face is drained of color and the light slowly fades from your pretty eyes - but he doesn't. Instead, he graciously decides to release his hold.

But you shake your head, pulling him closer, forcing his fingers back against your throat. "More."

He pauses, the cogs in his brain screeching to a halt. One, two, three whole seconds pass before the pieces click into place and he throws his head back laughing. "Sweetheart," he drawls, suddenly intent on painting the shape of his fingertips into your neck, a pretty shade of violet. "Don't tempt me."

You know you shouldn't instigate the man, that he has neither brake nor moral compass; he could choke the life out of you without a hint of remorse and you know that all too well, but when you meet his gaze and see the bloodlust dancing in those vermillion eyes, well you simply can't help yourself.

Your hand moves faster than the angel on your shoulder can tell you that you're an idiot, wrapping your fingers around the chain dangling from his neck and tugging hard. His playful demeanor is gone in an instant and he rips your hand from the holy sigil.

"Playing chicken today, are we?" he growls, slamming his lips to yours, canines teasing the flesh of your bottom lip before he bites down. You flinch when he shoves his tongue against yours and you taste the tang of your own blood. His free hand tangles in your hair, tugging sharply until your head is angled just the way he likes. Your own hands fumble for support, landing clumsily on the firmness of his chest. He groans into the kiss, lips coated red when he pulls away.

"Blasphemous little brat." His grip around your throat tightens until tears well in your eyes and spots of black dot your vision. "Is this what you wanted?" You try to nod but find it impossible; he knows anyway, if the smug grin spreading across his face is anything to go by.

You look up at him through wet lashes, hand moving to cradle his face. You don't miss the way his shoulders relax, hold easing and chest rising and falling slower; as if you made him melt, like putty in your hands. Perhaps that's why you continuously test his patience, crazy as he is; betting everything on that little soft spot you know he nurtures just for you.

"You're fucking crazy, you know that?"

His hands fall to his sides and the cold air hits your lungs in full force. You laugh breathlessly, thumb caressing his lower lip. "I guess you rubbed off on me."

His eyes narrow but there's a playful glint in them when he nips at your thumb. You throw a sharp glare his direction, withdrawing the offended appendage back to the safety of your chest. He picks you up and you squeal, kicking your legs and playfully pounding against his shoulder. "I'll show you crazy," he grumbles, making his way towards your little cottage in the woods.

Oh please do.

[depressedhatakekakashi]

Gosh looks like today needs more Kakashi positivity

Kakashi's first lesson to his students is 'fuck the rules if your friends are in danger/need your help

Kakashi actively wins multiple fights on his own and even holds his own against Kakuzu and Hidan without using the MS. Cannonly (Manga only) Kakashi wins against Zabuza (twice), the seven deadly swordsmen, multiple enemies in the war arc. Kakashi is also portrayed as more of a leader than a direct fighter, excelling most when he can lead a team to victory (like in the Kaguya fight).

Obito's eye is a GIFT to him. It doesn't matter if he 'shouldn't have it' or any other reason people come up with for him being crap for using it. He is the only character we see with a Sharingan (that is none Uchiha or even Uchiha in the vast majority of cases) who was 100% gifted the eye and told to use it. He uses it to honor the memory of a friend he lost.

Kakashi is the only character we see actively stand up to the system from inside the system. He's the one who stands up to Danzo to save Yamato. He's the one who turns his back on the 'New Hokage' (Danzo) and takes Naruto out of the village during a time when ALL shinobi are supposed to be restricted to inside of the village. He's the one who ignores Hiruzen's order's and plan in order to go save Yamato. He turns his back on Tsunade giving him an S-Ranked missiong to go after two of his students.

Kakashi taught each of his students something in the short amount of time we actually got to see him in teaching mode. He helps Sasuke improve his taijutsu so much that Gai is impressed by his improvements in the short span of a month. He teaches Sasuke his Chidori. He teaches Sakura the Qi release. He teaches Naruto how to make use of his shadow clones to learn faster (something Naruto uses both to create his rasenshuriken in such a short span of time and which he again uses later to learn sage mode.). That's not even touching on the obvious moments of teaching them about teamwork and chakra control (with the tree climbing)

Kakashi cared about all of his students. When he saw Itachi he assumed he was there for Sasuke, and when he found out he was there for Naruto he was just as ready to fight to protect his students. He carries Naruto on his back after he exhausted himself and gives Naruto a head pat. Seeing a bit of himself in Sasuke does not mean he ignored any of his students. While other teachers were hyper-focused on one student, Kakashi at least recognized he was only one person and when he needed to hyper-focus on Sasuke he still made sure that Naruto had someone to train him in chakra control as that was his weakest point.

Kakashi is the Hokage that made genuine changes to the system. He's the one who made a no-kill order for the shinobi of Konoha. He's the one who redirected Konoha's system away from shinobi toward a more economic system. It was during his reign that Konoha became an economic giant and grew exponentially in size.

Kakashi also became stronger after losing the Sharingan. The Sharingan was a gift from Obito that directly hurt him because he didn't have any magical fixes to keep him from getting chakra exhausted. the chakra was constantly being drained from him by the Sharingan, making him chronically fatigued just by existing with Obito's gift.

Kakashi's purple lightning is a stronger move than his chidori and does not require the sharingan. He's also capable of turning pieces of his mud wall jutsu to glass to deflect electricity before returning it to mud so that it is not left as an extremely fragile material that would shatter under most other attacks. this is a feat that was thought to be impossible even by the person who originally suggested it.

His chakra pool is so much bigger that he held a mud wall for three days and released it when he was ready to go on the attack

he defeated 50 jonin rank missing nin shinobi with a frying pan and some really well-used genjutsu

he's always learning and growing. Kakashi in OG Naruto was one of Konoha's strongest ninja and he STILL trained to get stronger after Naruto left because he knew he needed to. The same Kakashi who made the mistake of looking directly into Itachi's eye in their first fight then turned around and tricked Itachi into wasting a MS move on a shadow clone.

[immoralimmortals]

Name 3: Kakuzu

Hello! I've decided that I have enough tidbits I've written for some Akatsuki members in my fic that I can make posts of them. There's a running story, but I hope you can enjoy this standalone post. Think of them as drabbles c:

This one is very overdue! Kakuzu is one of my favorites and I've written a lot with him. I have a particular headcanon that because he's been around so long and seen so much, he is especially taken by the new and novel. There's a terrible side effect, however: these things are often very silly, an adjective Kakuzu avoids. So to be a little bit in love, he has to tolerate someone a little bit ridiculous. How else would he end up being the self-appointed manager of a one-man band?

Note: due to the nature of the actual fic, I've decided to include moments with both Hidan and Kakuzu with the reader that aren't posted in the Hidan post. These include lemons. Enjoy!

Hidan - Deidara

He’s looking at her. If she wasn’t sure before, she sure as hell is now that she doesn’t like him looking at her, at least if it’s always so intense as this. An old tree accepts her weary spine for rest, her thin blue sweater sleeves a plaything for hands that have no control over anything else. What seem to be red clouds float over the cloth Kakuzu wears, a ring sitting between his knees as its hand dangles over one leg while he sits on a stump. His other hand reaches into the chest of his cloak. Once again, a book is pulled, and there’s brief gratitude as his eyes lower.

Till he throws the book her way.

“Ah!” It’s too soft to call a shriek, but the emotion is still there and downright embarrassing.

“Read the first page.”

...Ah. She opens it up not quite to the left-most page but corrects the mistake, fingers as careful as if bending it would be a sin, though, clearly, this is a well-worn read. Page one: it’s a face. Mugshot, even? A paragraph of text slides either up or down- she doesn’t fucking know which. She just needs to hold it long enough to be convincing.

…

“Out loud.”

Her cheeks deceive her first, bright red and hot in a flash. What does she DO? What can she do?!

“I-- I—”

One secret uncovered. Fucking HOW-?!

“I’m. Sorry.” Each word comes with its own step to tower over her. His hand drops, slowly, and just as gradually in turn a shaky grasp returns the bingo book to it. He says nothing. Maybe this’ll be the last of it? Just another notch into being useless for him and a reason to leave her behind? At least the stress would stop stabbing her.

Not a chance.

“Your name,” he demands.

Oh, that’s a THING that PEOPLE have, DON’T THEY?!

She’s such a fucking idiot.

“I’m-- my name is—” What was it that first guy kept calling her? “—Duckling.”

Kakuzu blinks. “Duckling.” She’s withering on the spot as he kneels down, still tall as he forces eye contact lock in place with his large hand pinching her chin upward. If looks could kill, it’d be a mercy to her.

“...You’re a horrible liar.”

Two secrets uncovered, not a minute between them. They leave her helpless to unravel once he releases her face, like rope tying her upright, and she doubles over to try to get as low to the ground as possible.

“...Yeah. I know.”

Will he hit her? Yell? Oh, please don’t yell at her--

…

He just sighs.

“Word of advice: pick another name if you’re really sticking to this.”

And then he stands up. Is that it? Is that all there is to it?! No way, she knows in her gut, that’s too easy. But then sits down again, on the stump, and goes through his book like has nothing happened.

Maybe it can be too easy, just this once, just for a poor girl.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

She practically hugs the guitar, head and hair swinging side to side.

She’s no maestro, nor bird, but music makes her happy and she can fumble her way through a song. It keeps her distracted; it keeps her honest.

“Guess she knows how to talk after all.” What about? No fucking clue. It shouldn’t surprise Hidan that his partner has nothing to say to that, but he takes it personally anyways. “Eh? What?" He turns to see Kakuzu stare at her, moss-green eyes piercing straight through as he thinks.

Hidan squints. “Eh?” he repeats, and then urgency strangles his throat. “Wait. Wait, wait NO, you are NOT--!”

The two approach her at once, her fingers scratching surprise across the guitar as she jolts up in horror. The masked man now looms over her once more. For once, for the first time...he almost sounds pleased.

“We can monetize this.”

“KAKUZU!!!” This is the first time she learns to recognize the true difference between annoyance and alarm from Hidan. It...doesn’t immediately scare her. The care is even...nice? “You can’t be serious!” Kakuzu continues the age old tradition of talking to him while locking onto her, offering a hand to take her from the dirty floorboards.

“What if I am?” Is that...playfulness? Is he capable of teasing?

“Whoring out a fledgling disciple of Jashin for nothing more than cash! YOU! GIRLY! I’m going insane here, you fucking agree with me, right?!”

But all boldness is gone and she holds the guitar neck like a kid does a favorite blanket, refusing to meet his demanding eyes. “That’s...kind of how music performance goes,” she breaks the news. It isn’t pleasant, but that’s how any business is, if you want to put food on the table. “Kakuzu, sir...--” she begins for the other one, mouth in a firm line. I’m no professional, she wants to protest. I’m untrained. But those words will leave her in the dust. A 1% chance at faking till you make it is better than a 100% at freezing all alone in the dark.

“You’ll earn your keep,” he confirms her fate.

I’m scared.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Minutes now until night falls and the zombies walk free under the new moon sky. The woman glances out from her smudged window, Hidan still perched on the front porch. He has an impatience reminiscent of a wolf waiting to pounce as he faces down the final tangles of sunlight through branches. Loneliness wraps around her like thorns.

“Ah-!”

In the corner of her eye, she sees the perpetrator of her broken concentration, a set of fingers with a ring settled on her shoulder. A voice does its best to not sound overly rattled. “I- I thought you were…” Not going to bother saying goodbye. “...Getting ready to leave.”

Kakuzu is a man of few words, as always, merely stepping back to give her space to face him. It’s funny; her perception of those eyes of his fluctuates so easily. Are they a soft moss or a gemstone emerald? Do they glimmer brightly in the low light, or are they dull with his years of labor and death? She’s spent nights prior contemplating the strange man’s multitudes- Hidan’s too- and she knows it’s not going to be solved tonight.

Yet she’s distracted long enough that Kakuzu ends up speaking first. The corners of her lips have risen, perhaps unconsciously. Why does she give this to him, he wonders? He can’t make it stay. It isn’t worth her expense.

“Our replacements have been delayed.” Hope so briefly grown is cut down: “But we can’t stay for them. Zetsu will be around until they show up.”

The woman repeats the name under her breath, smile faded. The amalgamation...black, white, unnatural, sinister.

“Listen.”

So she must, straightening to attention despite the weight of worries. His stare is unflinching.

“We are all dangerous. Every single one of us.” The bounty hunter’s brow furrows harder underneath his headband. “No one will ever defeat one of us, unless they’re wearing the cloak, too. And in that case, it’s a tossup which. Don’t test their nerves. You. Will not. Survive.”

This is advice he knows very, very well, the way he’s held back in these weeks. That face, in hallowed horror before his truth-- it’s fragile. Her eyes are too trusting. She’s pitiable. She’s ignorant. But a part of him believes she must not be stupid. And that’s kept her alive around him longer than most anyone else.

“We are each under oath from here on to protect you, but that means nothing. Know this. We’re no heroes. Takara--…”

Her breath hitches, though the name he gave puts its weight in his own mouth. The ringed hand clasps her shoulder again, and its grip is tight.

“Whatever skill you have, making me and Hidan soft like this...keep it up.” His knuckles clench. “It’s all between you and death.”

Too tight, too tight-!

Kakuzu lets go as she squeaks, her own hand flinging where his was to ease the stinging skin.

“I...--” This is a horrible time for Kakuzu to be mistaken about how she may be saved, for his voice to flounder for the first time. By his own hand, he is proving himself wrong. But why should he care...-?

“HEY SHITBAG!” a voice calls, dampened only by its distance down. “TIME TO GO!”

Takara flinches between Hidan’s stance below and the man ahead who hurt her. Something flashes in that green, and even he isn’t sure if it carries rage or fear.

“...I’m sorry.”

Without another word, Kakuzu lingers by, past, down the stairs, out the door, and is gone.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

The moon is massive in the rising dusk though also thin as a crescent, shape meaning they’ve nearly hit the one month mark since their departure from the haunted mansion. It hits the edge of the horizon right where Hidan sits, like a sickle through his stomach as he’s perched upon a star-drenched boulder, tall within the desert clearing. Concentration lowers alongside his hands. Purple eyes open, gleaming like they share the light in hers miles and countries away. Satisfaction raises the corners of his lips.

“’Bout damn time!” Hidan, for once, is thrilled to receive orders. He even lets his teeth bare, smile so wide for something so innocent, so far from his usual delights. His shoulders roll back and his palms lean onto the rock underneath him. “Finally...we can get back to business!”

The other ringed hand that lowers, however, is owned by someone much more unhappy.

“You nearly ruined the opportunity,” he growls deep in his throat, behind the cover of his mask. Even through the cloth, the chill of desert night stings the inside of his mouth. “Picking fights like that. You realize you have something to lose, don’t you?”

“Yeah?” Kakuzu’s partner absolutely does. Not. Care. He got what he wanted, and he hauls it up for display like a hunter does his trophy. “Well, I was right and we’re being sent back anyways!”

“That is in spite of you and not because of you.” The voodoo doll is as serious as the grave, a tone which only serves to escalate Hidan’s attitude. Ideas seep into bare skin the more he wakes up, no shirt to act as barrier between the cold wind and his heart.

“Apparently that wasn’t on ME! ...Kakuzu…— ” And now his tone is deadly sober, too, the younger ninja having twisted his head around so fast that it almost ripped off the neck. As ever, there is a delay intaking information, but it does always come together in due time.

And how it looks with the puzzle pieces clicking in place, with what Kisame said, is absolutely spelling disaster.

“The hell do they mean you bruised her?” harsh words sting more now, hissed instead of thrown as the older nin is accustomed to. In fact, it worsens as he whispers:

“Kakuzu,” he gapes, bottom eyelids twitching. “Don’t fucking tell me...— “

Kakuzu doesn’t speak fast enough to stop the train from going off the rails. The silver-haired demon clenches one fist and points a finger with another. The worst part is though it’s from someone so rash, the accusation is true. He’s not talking. He’s not denying. The only person he fucking trusted in all this despite his faults, despite his money-hungry ways...he thought he could be relied on.

The coals in the engine burn up and up and up, steam filling Hidan’s head until he explodes.

Oh, you evil old bastard.

“DID YOU TOUCH HER?!” Hidan shrieks at the top of his lungs, standing to his feet. That mouth of his is still so wide, but now instead a snarl. “Is THAT why?! Is THAT why she agreed to everything?!—”

“No.” Kakuzu says this firmly, just before iron hands catch a blood red blade. But even caught, the pressure does not cease. The priest is right in his face, searching for answers, eager for destruction. Despite his combative nature...this situation is not common between the two zombies. It’s usually the other way around, in fact. While Kakuzu’s fury is justified, Hidan’s is downright righteous. His teeth are gritting so hard, like they’re imagining tearing the threaded man apart, limb from limb.

Always so reasoned, always so right, Kakuzu’s nightmare is that he has nothing to back him up. He merely repeats his denial:

“No.”

Betrayal.

The Cerberus of scythes stays raised, locked against hardened skin, forcing green eyes to meet Hidan’s. As if it’ll bring him any sort of satisfaction. As if it will undo what has happened.

As if there is any answer worth hearing.

With a shing! too sharp-sounding to merely be pressed onto human flesh, the weapon pulls back. The Jashinist’s head tilts up by the chin, and Kakuzu is unsure if it’s a trick of the light that those pinkish eyes are, against all odds, soft. Lips whisper something, something that hurts more than it should to a man that has experienced more hardship longer than most others have been alive:

“And here I thought we finally agreed on something.”

Purple gaze becomes hooded after one last twitch, one more readjustment to the stark reality of things. Uncaring if he’s alone, Hidan turns around and walks away. They’re almost done, almost ready to journey back. Even if he is alone, soon she will not be.

Regardless of it is in spite of Kakuzu and not because of him.

There is nothing more shameful to the old man than the fact that nothing he can say right now will change Hidan’s mind. He is alone in the world, and the only one left for him is the one girl that will accept anyone. He is afraid that even then, they may be pulled apart.

If his hand has branded her, then Kakuzu has become the very thing he told her to fear. He will try to deny it till the end, but it is still true. They may be pulled apart for her own good.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Almost like it’s a gut instinct, the traveler wanders to the front door. The entrance is open, but the two tallest guys she’s met are at the threshold, barring entry and exit alike. Kakuzu is arguing- as reasonably as he can— with Kisame.

“I can...understand your hesitation,” he draws out, deep and careful as such a precarious bargain requires. “But it’s been long enough to wait for her. She’s not coming down.”

Cloakless, muscled arms are folded and their shoulders tense. The shark is trying just as hard to meet in the middle, but an attachment both hold— ironically what this is about— is causing an uncrossible barrier. The treaty is wavering, and it hardly even started. It’s a difficult balance that both Akatsuki have artificial sympathy for another, for her sake, as Kisame needs to temper down after Takara’s explanation, and Kakuzu now has to reprove he is safe enough for her to be around.

Just for her sake, they’re trying. God they’re trying. But it still isn’t good.

“We’ll hang out here, then.” Yeah, Itachi’s idea for her to come at her own pace is mostly because of that other one, but...the one that bruised her may initiate alarm as well, even if she so earnestly pushed it aside. He second guesses himself again, as he did with her upon his bed. Him? Kakuzu really cared about someone? Anyone?!

Sizzling annoyance and anger is under Kakuzu’s skin and stewing in the back of his throat, and the fact it is still there instead of expressed outward in his fists is proof. Yes, he does care. So he must have patience. Patience.

And finally, patience is rewarded.

Kakuzu freezes as soon as he sees her, tilting her head to appear from behind Kisame’s large, protective figure. She smiles. So softly, she smiles. The bounty hunter must keep his gaze unmoved, lest he emote in such a way it could alarm the delicate creature. To Kisame he succeeds, but her this is the kindest he’s ever looked back, and so he fails the task utterly.

And what does he feel, those eyes widening? Is he afraid, she wonders? Afraid again like as he clenched her shoulder?

And of her to him...does she hate him? Is that pain on her face, he asks? She looks like she’s been crying. Is that why she hesitated to come down? For a calculated man, his thoughts rush so much faster than hers. Are those tears for him? Does she fear him after what he did? He wouldn’t blame her. Not at all.

Kisame and Tobi wait, one with worry staring down to where she hides behind his arm, and the other with distant interest like that of a scientist. What will they do?

But she does not fear him. Not even after how it was supposed to end, in tragedy. Kakuzu gave her a name, and though she does not know its meaning, it is still a treasure grander than any wealth that glitters like gold. His hopes for her from their beginning shine through. She will succeed, always succeed and never be without, not again in the state she was found. But he never wished for her success to be wrapping him around her finger, for her to never be without the steel hunter’s best intentions...yet here they are.

"Hi," she says.

God damn you, girl, for falling into his lap not once but twice to look up at him with those starry eyes.

Kakuzu dares not move even as she does, as the queen steps around her blue shield and approaches. Her regality astounds him, something he never noticed until it was gone. The smoothness of every motion, from the way she hoods her eyes to the way her chin keeps so level even as she walks; it is all so precise, so accidentally commanding with how simultaneously demure and unconfident it seems. It impresses him. Perhaps, unconsciously after all those nights of observing her talents, it always has.

The guard, in turn, watches with caution as his ward raises her arms around the dragon that once captured her like she was a hoard of riches, holds him with all she has in her poor forgiving soul with a love better reserved for saints than sinners as he.

Just as Hidan did a month ago, Kakuzu’s hand raises, bends fingers that don’t know what to do. She trusts him. Why does she trust him?

Palm goes flat.

It lands on top of her head as lightly as humanly possible, perhaps even lighter.

The fool has forgiven him, the treasurer must accept. How terrible. How terrible for them both. It’s a shame Kakuzu has nothing to pray to, as that would mean he could be absolved of his harm. But at least she has been kept alive. At least, at least. No matter how conflicted he is— why should he care? He meant to leave her be in the end, after all-— Kakuzu still has a gratitude in how blind fate ended up in her favor.

“I’m glad you’re okay.” Words he should be saying come instead from her. Kakuzu can’t even grunt to that, voice trapped behind his mask.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

“Takara, isn’t this just fucking WEIRD?” ...Oh god.

“Weird? I say that’s how you behave. There’s a reason you weren’t allowed alone with her.” Oh god. She has just made this all even worse.

“The hell do you mean by that?”

“Exactly what I said, cretin. The only reason you were sent on a mission was so she could be safe. Don’t you remember how we were proven right?”

She wants to crawl out of her own skin.

“OI! That was NOT me!”

“But did you stop it?”

“I—”

“Kisame!” the woman shouts from her raised position to the fighting men, much like a damsel does from her tower. She already explained this to him, that it was an accident. Why is he—?

The sound of her distress only pushes him onward. He has honor to protect. He tastes blood in the water. It twists his expression into something terrible, something Hidan is quickly starting to match with absolute abandon.

Talking is over. Milliseconds split whether Kisame draws his sword first or Hidan his scythe. The woman screams, and they don’t listen, so she has no choice but to throw herself forward until they do.

Both men tangibly feel the weight of their smiling lips drop as soon as she comes between them once again.

Shing-clink, THUMP.

Two stories over their heads fly a sword of scales and a scythe of blood, in a near instant hitting the earth. Both cling into the dirt like their ends were cut off and the flat edges glued where they landed, just absolutely, firmly in place, even as thick as Samehada is. Both animals have their jaws dropped and eyes wide, but not for the hunt. The sight that splits them is their bounty, a woman uninjured yet still twitching and flinching.

Looping around her over and over— around her waist, her raised arms, her heaving chest— are black, metallic threads. Kakuzu has never said her name like this, not since he gave it to her.

“TAKARA!”

It’s a mere split second she’s kept on the battlefield, immediately whipped backwards to stand beside him at the front door. She’s horrified as she looks upon him in this new, battle ready state, still on the brink of losing everything thanks to adrenaline and misunderstandings between her friends, and the bounty hunter decides it is the best time to teach her of her place.

“What are you thinking?” His volume is so much lower, and yet she’s even more intimidated. This is a goddamn nightmare. Her saviors nearly killed one another, and now here she is captured by something she can only describe as eldritch coming forth from another who she has come to trust. The threads wiggle around him; they're so dark and tinged with a glimmer that it's almost look like you took a pencil and scribbled onto the air itself. They writhe from his sleeves like worms. Gemstones bore into her.

And boy do they see every inch of her foolishness.

“You. Were mere inches from death.” His eyes will hurt later from glaring so hard, going without blinking so long. “Do you know a damn thing, girl? Do you know how so, very close you are to dying every moment you are alive in our presence? Do you KNOW?”

The threads don’t let go, but as he looms over her so much his shadow consumes all of her body, it’s one of the last things on her mind. The stitched doll is relentless. He had warned her. And he had given her proof to be afraid. It needs to be drilled into her empty skull. His voice raises:

“Can you not even THINK?!”

“KAKUZU!”

Though Kisame’s mouth had opened, it’s not his voice that speaks. Beside him, the swordsman sees Hidan seethe. His body is leaning forward, both fists clenched to his sides. Slowly, the same way a prisoner may drag their chains, green irises fall onto the silver haired man. There’s an expression about him, the way the muscles in his face twitch with effort to hold their position; it is more than just outrage…a bit of the same thing as the night of the meeting where it started to go wrong. And then into his ear, a little sound is made, as soft and small as a squeak from a mouse. The chains drag back, eyes finally seeing her again instead of just through her.

Helpless in his grasp, like a fly twirled into spiderweb, the performer can do nothing with her body but cry. She tries not to— because he is right— but no amount of biting your bottom lip and sniffing up the tears can keep the emotion away. In fact, it only makes it uglier. Hidan says his name again, more distant to Kakuzu’s spiraling mind, and the woman feels the bindings retract, piano wire slithering away like snakes. Kakuzu steps away, gawking at what he caused, the way she holds herself exactly in place as he had demanded of her. But others are here now, judging, and so panic sets in.

He can’t even manage an apology this time as he must walk away before it gets worse.

A third time Hidan says his partner’s name, and he runs right by her to chase him, to demand answers wherever the stitched man is going to hide.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

“Kakuzu. You’re too seasoned to need to be disciplined, yet here we are.” Ah, how shame and anger alike boil in a horrible brew in Kakuzu’s throat, that he can’t make them into words. “Don’t think you needn’t listen to this. Consider again: Clearly—” Pain acknowledges, “—You are aware of her ignorance, her fragility. Effort needs to be made not just to shelter her. Give opportunity for her to absorb. And therefore she may learn.”

A very polite way of asking him to stop scaring her. It’s shameful, but he can read it as such.

“I sent you back because you’re in prime standing with this traveler to unlock her secrets, get us closer to the purpose of her arrival, of if anything with her own world may be done for ours. Tell me, was I wrong? Is your original care not enough to keep your standing in her household?”

Hidan’s answer is quick. “Motherfucker, of COURSE it is!”

“...Good,” is the level reply. But he is not satisfied. “Kakuzu.” Emeralds and galaxies lock unblinking. It is up to the masked man to choose his own fate. “Can it be done?”

The person in question closes his eyes, not to run away but to do something such a calculated fellow never takes time for these days: introspection. Living this long, seeing so much...you think you know yourself. You believe you can predict your own mind and actions and reactions as well as chess pieces on a board, sometimes as simply as the order in which someone counts to ten. The painful truth is that this is not the case; that is why she makes him so uncomfortable.

His unpredictability is now, itself, unpredictable. It only took a girl that walked into his life from another dimension to put new possibilities on the table.

So what is his choice? He opens his eyes. Three colors bore into him: Orange in curiosity, purple in wait, magenta in tension. But, as ever, it can only be green who can speak for himself.

And he won’t back down from the challenge of a lifetime.

“Yes.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

What’s the closest book in this damn place to whatever the hell the girl might like? Fairy tales, sure. Not to his taste and he’s heard them all, so no. Romance novel? ...Not for the best. Oh. Hm.

Well, it isn’t his choice for her, but Kakuzu can certainly pass the time with a geopolitical nonfiction. May as well…

Patter, patter, old yellow pages flip open. “...Hn,” he grunts in displeasure.

The first Hokage. Suppose it can’t be helped; most literature is rather Fire Country biased. Still, the memory of the Konoha shinobi gives Kakuzu a headache. He paws a couple more pages—

...But then fingers stop from turning one more.

Around the corner, the woman has her back to the wall, taking a breath before getting on metaphorical stage. This guy has heard her sing over and over. Kakuzu is, sincerely, the one constant member of her audience since the first performance. Don’t be so nervous! You do this all the time.

But the difference now is...he’s going to know this song is for him.

Kakuzu pretends not to notice the girl is there until she makes herself visible on purpose, standing awkwardly in the library nook’s entrance with the guitar over her neck. In the corner of his eye, her cheeks are bright pink. As tempting as it is since she’s already made this first move, to keep his promise of letting her approach means to let her continue— no matter how painfully— and not stop whatever the heck is about to happen.

“I...um…” Her voice is so small. It isn’t really in her favor to say ‘hey, Hidan told me everything! He told me you really care! I care about you too, and I’m sorry!’ No, not the most tactful choice. She has to open the conversation by stepping right in, no one to take responsibility for it but herself:

“I—...Talk?” Find your tongue, kid. “Is now a good time? To?”

It’s disheartening if the stammering is because she’s scared half to death, but a few words from their mutual friend/”friend” outside as he laid in the grass have made the hunter wiser than that. As always, she sees his face covered, all but the gemstones fixed in his skull, but they do look tired. “As good as ever.”

That isn’t a no, at least! She steps forward, presenting herself as if a newbie ready to audition. “I…” More stuttering. The girl must have a sixth sense because just as Kakuzu opens his mouth to tell her to spit it out, she beats him to the punch:

“No, let me. I got it.” Her eyes close and a palm raises, indicating he not interrupt as she digs inside for the right thing to say. Her shoulders slump with a sigh and she visibly relaxes, a detail carried out very much on purpose. Let go. Just talk.

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you.” Abruptly much more complete, her language. Her eyes stay shut, brow furrowed in concentration. “I’m sorry I put you in a bad position. I know it must not have been comfortable. You’ve done a lot for me when I didn’t ask for it. Frankly, I don’t even know what I’ve done to deserve it. But you’ve looked out for me and I should return your kindness better.” Her eyes open, soft yet determined. “I hope I can be better.” He stares up, unblinking; she cannot wait for his assurance, the truth still needs to be said. “And I forgive you for anything that may have possibly happened that you could regret.”

Ah, to not speak the obvious. She’s opened the gates, and since she’s making it so damn easy, now he’s walking in. “Are you certain of that?” Her nod is firm and immediate; he’s never seen her so serious.

“I forgave you as soon as it happened. I just missed you. That’s the only thing I felt.”

So, is she lying, he thinks? Is it pity? Or is she a fool? But something— always something— in his gut tells him she is most certainly not stupid. Perhaps that instinct makes him the idiot. Over one slow second, his eyes become hooded and his shoulders relax, too, as he exhales, weary and ready for rest from the whole emotional affair. He doesn’t like to accept kindness, nor be blamed of it, but he’ll do it just this once. Just so long as he doesn’t need to announce it.

“Sit down.”

The woman does as told, and she’s never been more relieved to be near him. The seat at far end of the couch becomes occupied. Part of him wishes she sat right next to him as before, when he pushed her away. That’s his own fault, he supposes. Yet another sigh falls from the back of his throat. So much unnecessary discomfort...it hasn’t been this difficult for him in years to simply exist. She bites her tongue, trusting they can both be adults and speak for themselves about her own feelings.

And damn, he’s going to try.

“You want to know why I care?” The musician glances at her toes for a second, down to where she’s set down her instrument ...She nods, confirming not her only her obvious desire to know but rather also the ability to withstand the answer. And withstand she must, as he raises the curtain on his mysterious ways:

“I don’t know.”

She blinks up at him. Did she hear him right? He’s always struck her as such a knowing, confident man, one that has a reason for everything. He won’t meet her eyes, his are glued to the pattern of books in the case ahead.

“I don’t know,” he repeats. “It’s something you do. I know it’s on purpose.” Guilty as charged, she glances away momentarily. It’s hard to say that’s not the case when she had a whole breakdown at Tobi’s feet over how that is very much the case.

“But.”

And but, she agrees, though she needs his lips to explain what she plays out. What does he have to say “but” about?

“But it’s...sincere. It’s damn on purpose because you mean it.” It’s a grumble he speaks; is he angry? But Kakuzu knows deep in his many hearts— each and every one— that he’s never held anger for her. An emotion that defines him, allows survival...it is lacking with her. That’s what the problem has been, the imbalance that’s thrown him so off. How do you navigate without something that has always guided your way, struck clear the path you haven't trod before?

Perhaps another emotion is needed, one she has plenty to spare.

“I think I’m allowed to make one silly decision for its own sake.”

A pause is allowed for it to hit her: this is a joke. She blinks once again, now curious instead of worried. “Silly?” she repeats. He grunts in affirmative reply. “Oh…” And then, like lighting a candle, she brightens slow but sure; perhaps they have middle ground after all. “...I’ve always thought life isn’t worth it if you can’t be a little silly,” she comforts.

What odd advice. He’s the last person to accept it. Perhaps that means he’s the first to need it. The man puts aside his sense of dignity to humor her, this relationship he has allowed to fester being his own fault:

“I think I’m too hardened for your philosophy...duckling.”

The word is arsenic on his tongue, poison that tastes sweet as it goes down the esophagus. Duckling. Duckling. Duckling. He’s never said it, not once since that second day together, but it’s echoed in his mind ever since. A nickname so ridiculous, so flagrantly dumb...that he could never forget it. That he can’t stop hearing it in the back of his head whenever she does something simply he cannot comprehend, from the way she moves her legs so far forward when she walks to how she smiles even when he's done nothing to earn it. Silly, silly, silly.

What is it that she’s thinking, the way she looks back so blank? Are her feelings hurt? Did he put to much emphasis on the sarcasm, the strangeness of it all? Oh no, no. Quite the contrary, the performer bursts into laughter, so suddenly he can feel her bounce with each shout even from his end of the couch. Never before has he heard her laugh much less like this. But the ugliness, the snorting and the wheeze stuck in the back of her throat and the way she covers her mouth...yes.

It is sincere.

Perhaps he’s not making a mistake, after all. Perhaps even briefly, it can be indulged without consequence. Her cheeks are still flushed with the color of roses, but it is in something closer to bashfulness than shame, even as he considers if it’s the latter Kakuzu experiences for himself. The woman he named, his silly little duckling…

The treasure he keeps so hesitantly, as if it’ll make him human again.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

“Read this one to me.”

How lax things have become since the conversation started with her needing to hold her instrument simply to feel prepared to speak, to perform her words to be understood. Chin propped onto her palms and elbows propped onto the couch cushion, looking up at Kakuzu, her finger gestures to the book he had set aside upon her entrance, the one that provided him unfortunate but important memories.

“...Sure,” he answers, picking it up and flipping open again, but he has misgivings. “Don’t think you’ll like it, though.” The woman purses her lips, big eyes pouting up at the man.

“Why not?”

“It isn’t happy enough for you,” he answers bluntly, as he always does.

“That’s okay.”

Oh, so we’re going this route. The book flops onto his lap as wrists go limp, his gaze on her pointedly. She is undeterred, seemingly to the point of denial. “It’s nonfiction,” he tries to clarify. But she just lights up.

“I love nonfiction!”

“…” His eyes narrow down at the lady who has positioned herself much like a child would near his lap, waiting for a bedtime story. “...Are you saying words just to hear them?” But she shakes her head, eager as ever, especially just after being emboldened to be so goofy— a fatal mistake on Kakuzu’s part.

“Nonfiction is easier for me than fiction,” the stranger explains, and the quickness of the answer leads him to believe she’s said this aloud before. “With nonfiction, you get to be more detached, you get to learn. It’s silly—” As she always is. “—But stories are...hard for me. I get emotional really fast.” And then, softer: “I like knowing how stories end before I begin. I get to feel prepared.”

Oh? That’s not something Kakuzu’s ever heard before, not once in all his years. Usually fairy tales and the like are used to escape harsh feelings. That’s why he never liked them; hard emotions made him stronger. As he mulls this difference over, the girl continues, her tone bashful:

“And...I kinda...need to learn about you guys. About where I am.” Ah, here we go again. Kakuzu is as neutral as possible on whether or not the nonsense she spouts about another world is literally true; it is clear as day, regardless, she has a lot to pick up about the world she is currently in. Sheltered or spiraling from another dimension, it does not matter. She has to be educated...so she’s got him there. He sighs the way he so often does, not a vocalization but a release of a breath to prepare the next one.

“...I suppose so.”

Pages flutter like wings as he aims to skip the so-embarrassingly slanted narrative about the Hokage that ruined his life. Green irises blink at something they spot. Oh, that’s appropriate. She can at least become a better liar if the time comes to protect herself. He tries his best to ignore the way her plump cheeks squish in her palms, though he can’t manage to turn his head far enough to push it out of the corner of his eye. He reads:

In contrast, the Land of Bears homes the ancient Hoshigakure. The oral tradition states that the village was formed following a meteorite striking the earth after falling from the heavens. It produced such a spectacle and affect upon nearby societies that the staggered groups gathered to worship the “star.”

For such a gruff voice...it makes a wonderful narration. Kakuzu’s words are easy to follow, neither too dull nor too enthusiastic. Her gaze softens as she drinks his sound and knowledge in. He’d make a lovely audiobook actor, the way the gravel so gently tumbles in his throat. Kakuzu ASMR...the performer ponders, half-closing her eyes and seeing if she gets the well-known “tingles” sitting so close to the source of such pleasant, low sound.

A merged society formed as travelers mingled and exchanged culture, eventually large enough to dub themselves “Hoshigakure”: the Village Hidden in the Stars. Although unrecognized by the Five Great Shinobi Countries despite the insistence of the Hoshikage, it is nevertheless a successful economy, largely self-sustained but still receiving notable tourism for its clear view of the night sky.

She’s quiet now, a dreamy but troubled look upon her face as she no longer sees Kakuzu but through him, watching her own thoughts wash over his shape in a haze. Distinctly, her smile is gone. Perhaps she was hoping for something a bit more grand for her crazy backstory, Kakuzu notes, but he’s off the mark.

The performer doesn’t end up singing for him like she planned on, walking in with her guitar. She’s got other things on her heart now. Other things she needs to figure out first in rehearsal.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Knock knock.

It isn’t like Kakuzu to receive visitors after bedtime, but today’s a special kind of day. It somehow even surprises him that it’s the woman he named is the one at the door tonight. He sees her face first and his eyes crawl down the length of her nightgown second, them alone moving and nothing else as his bare arm holds the door open by its thinnest side. The gaze finally comes back up to where is appropriate to look at a lady, and he finds his tongue. “Can I help you,” he says more than asks.

“I…” she stammers for a different reason this time than the hours before. Kakuzu follows her stare past the shape of his glossy hair, draping like a curtain down as he tilts his head forward, and then it hits him. Oh. That’s right. He decides at least one of them should dress appropriately.

THUMP.

The door closes in her face, leaving her stunned. “I...oh…” she deflates. The dreamer considers if it’s better to walk away or try again, as if another knock will fix everything, and the decision hangs until in as quick as a flash the door reveals a different man, mask thrown on and the Akatsuki garb buttoned shut, lest she ogle at his stitches any longer.

Unlike some hours before, this time she does need a good prodding. “Speak up,” he commands.

What had she seen…? It was so fast that she begins to doubt if her eyes are starting to play make believe. He looked so…so...—

...Nerves and rudeness are swallowed, aware she’s leaving him in wait. “Can I talk to you about something?” But Kakuzu’s eyes narrow. They’re talking now. Get to the point. A couple seconds pass before she elaborates: “...Outside?”

…

A strange request is answered with yet another sigh, the man exhaling as the gift he did not ask for so bizarrely requires they be under the night stars. Shame on him for signing up for this, for feeding stray cats and not expecting them back for more.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

The grass seems even taller and wilder after hours cooling in the midnight. The thinnest sliver of a waxing moon gleams down the edges of leaves and budding dew that waits to be seen in the morning. The insects sing, chirps and cheeps and chirrups becoming a symphony that if you listen too closely, the vastness in their unified melody will begin to overwhelm, begin to make you realize the world is so much bigger than just you, than just one little cricket. Many people and many crickets there are...and another thing

Another thing, which is what she can’t let go of.

She looks ghostly in her long sleeve nightdress, pale and frilled under weak light. The barest hint of yellow gleams from the gangly weeds, a gold complimenting her silver. “I’ve never seen this before,” she whispers as if it’s a transgression. As Kakuzu finishes trailing behind, he looks at her back; she won’t turn to see him, to evaluate a response as she so often seeks. 

“What…?” He tiredly turns his head for something to blame, him being woken up this late. Something rattles in the grass. A bug, he quickly identifies with a sharp eye. But she doesn’t look at it.

“...Hn,” he mumbles to himself. A shape swirls over a small boulder. A snake?

But she doesn’t show him that, either. No, not a creature low to the earth just as she may be. She points.

...She points up at the sky.

He tilts his chin up to follow. It’s a quiet night, clear as clear can be with not a cloud to hide the heavens. His brow knits under his slashed headband. Perhaps a bird? No, not that either. The answer is hidden in plain sight. Her hand falls as the thing hypnotizes her, leaves her mystified till numb.

“Stars.”

The word is tinged— deeply, deeply sad. She had heard about it— had accepted it— and yet you cannot miss what you don’t truly know. Even when she visited family in the farmlands, the nearby cities still lit up the horizon, still tainted the view of the firmament that was once the birthright of every living creature. The stranger never realized how far the light clouded, how much vision it took away. She did not know until now that this, as it is tonight, is how the sky is supposed to be. She’d seen it before, even in this world, yeah...but not as clear as now. They aren’t mere dots, mistakable for satellites. They swirl with color and shades across the rainbow, a prism of everything holy, a glisten made for the dressings of God. They twine such shapes and depth that now, suddenly, she understands what constellations really are.

How they’re more than just imaginary lines on black space.

A man raised by suffering and time steps forward to her side, tilting his head down to watch the reflection in her eyes, the galaxies and planets that yearn to find home within her soul. The stranger’s pupils are so wide like maybe if they’re big enough, the night can slide right in and fill her till she’s stars inside and out. She’d like nothing more. Kakuzu’s shoulders rise and fall with a sympathy-laden breath he wishes to lessen the load of.

“You’re not going to get far if you can’t pretend you haven’t seen them all your life.”

An abrupt awakening, but it isn’t as rude as her ears first mistook. By the time she looks back to him, he’s averted his gaze, studying the lights themselves. He gestures up too, briefly to redirect those big watchful eyes off himself, and he lets his arm swing back down. “Hoshi is the village of the stars. You remember, don’t you, girl? You’ve seen them all your life. You know them.”

…

The humor in his voice is rare but not so foreign to the performer’s ears that she can’t, eventually, follow.

“...Are you offering to teach me how to lie to people?” The mask doesn’t hide how the underneath of his eyes crinkle, the fact that he’s smiling.

“Not at all...Just filling in the gaps of your piss poor memory.” Almost quick enough to make her flinch, his hand rises again, but the direction it picks is right over her head. “Look,” he instructs. “Tell me what that is.”

She does a double take between him and the spot of space his fingertip tries to touch. Confused eyes blink.

“...A...star?”

“Wrong.” Well, kind of right but for their purposes wrong. “Leo.” His firm stretch aims a little lower. “This,” he demands. The traveler guesses his pattern:

“...Virgo?”

“Gemini.” The target returns to the first point of interest. “This.”

“...Leo.”

“Here.”

“Gemini.”

“Good.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Knock, knock.

...You’ve got to be joking.

The bounty hunter pinches the bridge of his nose as for the second night in a row he is asked for at an ungodly hour, though having sense to learn from mistakes and put on his cloak before opening the bedroom door to the woman he named. “What the hell is—” Once his rubbing stops, so do his words. Lifting eyes see her, fully dressed not only in her pastel sundress and sweater but her hat, shoes, sunglasses, and letter-shaped bag. Blue and white and pink, this is a lot to take in at 12AM. His cheeks pinch upward, lifting the bottom eyelids into a more scrutinizing stare. The sight makes him forget he hasn’t yet hidden his face, the shape of it memorizing in her brain like an afterimage when you look at the sun too long. Lips part, held open for a couple seconds before forming a single syllable she gets to ogle at: “...What.”

“Please come outside with me,” the performer insists, voice quiet as to not alert anyone else asleep behind walls but urgent nonetheless.

“Takara—”

“Please.” Despite it being a word common in her defensive politeness, this is also way the woman makes her demands. Kakuzu isn’t so naive to not know this. To ignore this means to have it happen again, night after night, until he gives in.

“Fine.” The ridiculous girl will be humored despite the grumbles from his unmasked mouth. She sees it now, every minute twitch and leer and frown. She’s gotten so used to reading just the upper half of his face that abruptly it’s like he’s emoting twice as much as before. He’s almost a whole new person.

But she has gotten what she asked for, and a hungry gaze will tear away in order to carry on as planned.

They weave through the corridors, go outside, step onto the porch. The air is brisk, like the stars are ice cubes dropped into the galaxy and poured around them.

“...Another lesson,” Kakuzu presumes, tilting his chin at the sky once more. He has no idea how correct he is.

One of his five hearts stops beating as she takes his hand and runs.

It’s an easy pace to keep up with, of course, as she is no ninja nor even a runner, but the adrenaline is contagious. He finds himself unwilling to argue— perhaps even too stunned to— as they traverse the length of the small plain in front of the adopted home and slip into the forest. They’re mere specks, their shadows simply blades of grass taller than the others, moving underneath the vastness of velvety night. No explanation from her lips come, no matter how urgent this seems. Once they hit the line of trees and out of sight of the house, he has to ask:

“Where are you going?”

“You’ll see!” is all he gets, breathy and giddy. “You’ll see!”

Kakuzu second guesses himself, as he has come to do each time he is in her presence. So much younger than he, but he trusts her. So much more ignorant than he, but he believes her. So much different than he...but…

But as she takes him somewhere he finally needn’t worry about others judging, he understands her. He understands all too well.

“This.” The traveler puts it simply as she catches her breath, and indeed such magnificence needs no further introduction. Her hands guide one of his as they walk through the final layer of brush to a short cliff-side. The world is so vast, an expanse of woods shaded in different indigos and purples underneath the blanket of an unpolluted night sky, rolling until you can no longer see leaves, then branches, then individual trees. It’s a depth of detail so beyond the human eye that it makes you understand what the impressionist movement of art was about, trying to capture the things photos cannot. Underneath it all is the clearest view of the heavens, even more so than at her new home where she’s learned the horoscope.

Underneath it all, the stars are twice as many. A pool reflects them all back up, nearly as bright. Thrice as many, shining in her eyes.

“This is what I was talking about last night,” she reveals, sweet as nectar from her mouth. That’s all a wary Kakuzu needs to piece it together: She snuck out, ran home, and he was the first she told of what she found. A dangerous adventure. It deserves a scolding.

“...You’re not coming out here again without me.”

A now familiar tone, even if rare, even if he frowns. His teasing is oh so welcome, and she wouldn’t want anything more. The smile she provides in turn is as mischievous in kind. A couple giggles slipping past containment precede her punchline. “...Can I give you my song now?”

Ribbit.

Ribbit.

One of the frogs wading among cattails in the water below has already started, long before the next main act arrived. It’s a sound that vibrates deep in one’s chest, the little croaks. Kakuzu’s eyes hood, and gradually, one corner of his lips rise in a smirk. It makes her heart flip, having such a look to match the voice. He’s so much...younger than she expected, at least younger looking. He speaks like he’s traveled the universe, end to end, seen everything there is to see.

“...What a trick to pull. It’s impressive.” The performer takes the opportunity to wink. Gotta know something in her brain full of cotton and glitter. She sits down at the edge of the cliff, legs over the side, and pulls her guitar off her back.

“But,” Kakuzu adds.

Her smile is gone.

“I still don’t want it.”

Ribbit.

Ribbit.

They’re taking turns now, him once silly and her now serious. The scent of lake water fills her nose and wafts down the throat, puts an aftertaste in her mouth. “Can I ask why?”

“…”

Silence is the reply. He doesn’t want to enjoy it. How can you put that into words without seeming weak? He didn’t live this long being vulnerable. The performer beats him to the punch:

“I thought life wasn’t worth it unless you’re a little silly.”

The way his lips curl in disdain is utterly delicious, no possible better response to the pastel clown, the way his silky brown hair drifts down at an ever-so-slightly different angle as he tilts his chin lower. “...You said that,” he chastises. “Not me.”

“But you didn’t disagree!” Her own irises become half covered by their lids, an expression somewhere between playful and challenging. She raises a smooth but accusing gesture of her open palm, reaching forward to welcome excuses. “And you called me ‘duckling’!”

His glower narrows even further as he’s presented the truth. ...Touche. Let’s get to the point, then. “Why do you want to give it to me?” he counters a question with his own. She’s ready to the draw like a pistol’s at her hip.

“Because I love you.”

The bluntness of it…!

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” Kakuzu snaps. It’s clear now that the upset on his face since being accused of lightheartedness is, in all entirety, real. She is making a grave mistake. “People will misunderstand you.” She loves everyone...everything...people will take it personally. People will take it harshly. People will simply take it— take her as a possession.

How hypocritical, he knows. But that doesn’t stop it from being true. Something else is, too, she counters:

“But I mean it.”

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Even if she does, even if somewhere in one brain cell, in one iota, one molecule of her being...even if she loves him, then...—

Kakuzu spits the answer back.

“...Then you shouldn’t love me.”

He’s so beautiful in the moonlight, even when he’s mad. Maybe especially so.

“And yet I do.” A patient tone, as if she knows everything, as if facts do not change at all just because you believe in them. The back and forth is too quick for his liking; this is something she has given thought, a script to follow. It needs to end here...no matter how painfully.

“I’ve killed, Takara,” he explains, cold as the water, cold as the furthest star, throwing a list of reasons over his shoulder at her like knives. “You know this. Among killers, I am the worst. I’ve created nothing but dead bodies and stacks of cash, neither of which you’ve expressed interest in having. Stop loving me.”

He’s done it. He’s said it all. There’s no way for her to squirm out of this, to make-believe an answer she wants instead of one she needs. The hunter’s brow pinches further as she loses the joy in her face. His frown stretches wider to reveal teeth as her sweet lips part. His eyes shake in their sockets with the effort he takes to lock onto her, to make it seen without a shadow of a doubt that he is not, will never, be worthy of her trust.

But even the frog knows to stop singing when it’s time for truth to ring. There’s only silence until the woman finds her voice.

And merely, once again, she smiles.

“Kakuzu… Do you think I’m stupid?”

What? In a flash, his confidence gone, wiped away in millimeters of shifting muscles that make his expression from one of faux rage to that of stupor. The performer, in all her practice, has the upper hand of changing faces with ease.

“There’s a reason I’m like this, you know.” Smiling, smiling, and it reaches her eyes— it reaches her eyes, so it must be true. It boggles Kakuzu, even more so as she goes on. “I know what death is. I know about starvation and poverty and the goddamn feeling that nothing you can do matters. Kakuzu—” Her voice raises, “—That’s why I’m here!”

It’s so sweet, her voice. It’s saccharine, words dripping from the humidity in the air to trickle down his throat. It’s like he’s tasting arsenic again, horrid as his dismissive, childish nickname for her. Duckling. Oh, silly duckling, what did you do? What do you know?

“I fucking killed myself because I lost my goddamn job.”

The hell…? Suicide… Kakuzu could have believed she didn’t know what suicide was if you had asked him only yesterday. Literally or otherwise, clearly the woman means something grave by the tale she’s weaving. Why then why does she sound so hopeful?

If he’s in a world of shock, then he’s about to be electrocuted to the other dimension.

“I’m in debt 40,000 fucking dollars on a useless degree when my parents didn’t even teach me how to open a bank account, when they instructed me to slave away a decade of my life to get said degree to keep myself alive.”

The performer begins to talk with her hands, arms stretched wide with the massive stage backdrop of dark blue night. She is an actress, and she gets to spin the tale of her demise just for him to see.

“I know that even though things are really different here, humanity is still shitty and there’s always going to be assholes and politicians and war.”

One, two, three. She’s stopped looking at Kakuzu and instead using her index finger to point where she imagines the three words to be.

“That sometimes, no matter what you do or pick, things aren’t going to go well. If you’re the worst person I’m going to meet...I don’t care!”

Palms face up and open the space in front of her in full, sarcastic welcome.

“I’m dumb and silly and do stupid things as a choice because I don’t want fear to keep me from doing anything at all. I did it all already!”

Quieter, now. He is helpless but to stand there, to listen, to feel but even a sliver of what has happened to her to make her like this.

“I did the serious life and talked to no one except who I had to, worried about so much as existing in front of other people that it has become ingrained in my FUCKING DNA.” A firm pinch on the skin of her forearm before letting it go, letting her arms sink. “...That I’m just a nuisance that doesn’t know how to talk to anyone. I did it all. Did it all without a goddamn thing to show for it. Kakuzu, I didn’t expect a round two at the whole ‘life thing.’ If I end up dead for giving it another shot…” The woman shrugs, casually with nothing she can do to change fate. “...I have nothing to lose!”

Kakuzu has no mask to hide how his lips part, how his jaw drops. She motions dismissively with both hands, palms downward and flat as they cut sideways in the air as if to part it while she stands up.

“I’ve had enough!” she puts as simply as giving up her place in line at the DMV. “I told you how I felt and that’s all I can do. Not gonna wait for other people again. You can find me if you need—”

He grabs her wrist. All confidence leaves her voice, turning it into her mousy squeak once more.

“...Me.”

Ribbit.

Ribbit.

The silence is long. It is awkward and painful and so very, very desperate. Even such a calculated mind needs time to sparse the details, effort to read past the raw emotion.

The question he has is, perhaps, not the first she expected, so soft it’d be unheard if he wore his mask:

…

…

“...How much is 40,000?”

A hum and a glance to the side before she returns to him, calm as can be. “So you know how a cup of soup costs 300 ryo?” He grunts. “That’d be like...six dollars.”

His brow furrows, though eyes stay wide as he runs the math, darting eyes counting with stars on an invisible abacus. “How,” he can merely breathe, “Did you get 2 million ryo in debt?!”

It’s criminal how she only shrugs to that number. That’s one that’d create a domino effect for a small nation, let alone ruin a single human being. There’s only one way you can speak about the bullshit, of course, and it’s with irony and humor, something the old man should be more than familiar with. “It’s the normal,” the performer sighs boredly. “Whole generation of kids got indoctrinated to believe that if you pay for higher education, you won’t be homeless. Hiked up the prices of college, and voila!” Her arms spread in presentation, a shit eating grin on her face, which she then points a finger into either cheek and twist around till it puts red marks on her skin. “You get a societal failure like me!”

Ineptitude of this grandiosity is impossible to wrap his mind around at the pace she’s running. Fake or not, this is quite the concept to imagine. “And you say this is normal?”

“YES!” He has never, ever, seen her more passionate about something, even singing, and perhaps he never will.

“The hell did you learn worth gambling your soul over?”

“Sociology,” she answers sharply with a point of the index finger; he’s beginning to see where she channels her body language from when performance is needed. She is, indeed, angry. He didn’t think it possible. She claps her hands every fourth word in the next statement. “I studied to be a goddamn sociologist because that’s what I’m interested in! Guess what I did for a living!”

The woman slaps her knees in rhetorical wait for a guess. She’s nearly manic, fire scorching in her eyes.

“I worked CUSTOMER SERVICE! I had to go to work the day my grandma died because they said they’d fire me if I took a day off, and then I performed so shittily that I got fired anyway!”

Kakuzu has never had so many questions in is goddamn life. “Specialization like yours...—” He tries to remember. Sociology...the study of societies, yes? That explains a lot about her, he guesses. Her tolerance for things, her willingness to withstand even Hidan’s religion. “—...worthless.”

“Apparently! But I’m not special.” Kakuzu follows her weaving of an economic nightmare with ease after seeing many in his own time on earth, words quiet on his tongue. Understanding doesn’t make it easier to swallow, though. He has to summarize, lest it all escape him:

“...An entire society of people so vastly in debt that they’re in servitude for all eternity.”

“Yes!”

“Despicable.”

“I know!”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

“And that’s how my country successfully functioned as a war-based economy.”

Kakuzu is beside himself, laying on his back next to her as they stare at the constellations, some of which she can name. He only managed to delay the inevitable. He did, after all, stay up till morning with a woman who should really be in bed.

“I…underestimated your knowledge.”

Too tired to add much more, she just shrugs. “It’s okay. I can’t blame you.”

But it can’t stop there; he has to wrap around to something she mentioned so briefly in passing, minutes and maybe even hours behind several adjacent topics of conversation. Question is...if it’s all theoretical or otherwise.

“...You said you killed yourself.”

Ribbit.

Ribbit.

The frog continues on his own as she’s quiet now, no longer just thinking of herself as a statistic, as a symptom of a weary and sick society. The stranger is her own person, the only one that can be responsible for herself. Such care is overwhelming, exhausting, and so she can’t manage to repeat herself. Kakuzu sighs, this time finally in a way meant to be heard.

“...This is all hard to believe.”

“I know,” she answers, unaffected, eyes missing above. “You don’t have to.”

That’s something they have in common. They don’t have to believe any of the details about each other in order to know the core of the matter.

But that does leave one more thing…

“Don’t tell anyone. Okay?” He stares, stares with his whole uncovered, stitched face, but even if he’d beg, the woman couldn’t bring herself to look back as she pleads for her life. “That’s the only thing interesting about me… That’s...my whole backstory. Okay?”

Defensively, that ‘okay’ is said. Tired eyes draw closer to shut, lost in space, lost in wherever her soul may have flown off to so long ago.

“...That I’m a fucking failure.”

She whispers her deepest sins, sans pity-worthy details. Somehow she cries even more over the welfare of two bloodthirsty ninja than her own poor self, not even a tear. Perhaps they’ve all dried up long ago over this thing, this ghost that haunts her.

“I didn’t even kill myself right.”

There’s no choice in his mind. He has to touch her. He has to bring her close. He begins by reaching forward, slow as not to frighten the delicate creature. His palm merely brushes against her cheek, merely asks it to move to face him through the chilled grass instead of force it to. But he can’t make her eyes look back. She’s biting the inside of her lip, both to shut herself up and to punish for that which she feels shame. She talks too much. Thinks too much.

Yet not enough at all.

She’s so tired of trying to figure it out. What more does he want? What can she say to make him feel better, stop worrying? The whole speech she gave was supposed to make it better, to make him less upset. She’s still a fuck-up. Such a fuck-up...

“I don’t have more to offer,” the dead dreamer consoles, wondering if he can feel her disgrace through a shiver she has in this night air, upon the near-morning dew. “People are...being so nice to me. Treating me precious. Your leader thinking I’m special.” A bitter chuckle. “...I think if the whole ‘Jashin plopped me down from the stars just to meet Hidan’ bit was true, it’d make more ironic sense. At least God would be funny about the whole damn thing.”

Wit, resentful wit. It tastes familiar in his own mouth, but doesn’t sound the same arriving to his ears. Not from that voice which puts tales of fairies and unicorns to shame. It’s too pretty for this. And yet…

And yet.

Ribbit.

Ribbit.

He has a solution, at least of some sort. Kakuzu replies to his musician:

"...More ironic than finding success?" It stings. It fucking stings. Her eyes squeeze shut, teeth grit, and Kakuzu’s afraid to move even an inch, even to take his rough hand away. Tears finally find a way out. They’re hot against his skin.

His skin feels like home. Even if she doesn’t know what that is.

As a hand with no ring comes up to clasp his, the bounty hunter notices something he’s never seen before. His whole life, he’s been one color. Let’s say...blue. He sees others, the way they affect one another, and sees their colors hope to make something beautiful but begin to muddle, begin to be unsightly and regretful and permanent. He keeps his hands to himself; he will not take part, not any further than the betrayal of his homeland turned the sclera of his eyes bloody, bruised red. And then, so long down the road, it surprises him when someone brave enough to ignore the warning signs grasps his hand herself, holds it so lovingly. She’s yellow, like tart lemons and stripes on bumblebees. She catches onto him long enough to dye him, at least a little, the stain reaching further and further up his arm like watercolor on wet paper. Being yellow means he is no longer just blue; he is no longer what he knows, what he can control. It’s scared him. So foolishly, it has, and yet he had reason to fear; his dyed hand, after all, is the one that hurt her.

What he didn’t see till now is that she’s more than one color, too. A drop, intense as condensing all of the ocean but small as the beads of dew, has found its way from the top of her scalp, dripping its hue downward in a line over her lips. She is changed. It just took time to bleed down from where cool-toned fingers pat a warm head of hair.

In front of him, his blue is crawling down her body. He’s feared it all along, and yet...it is not the worst, not the thing he truly did not want.

Despite it all...he never realized he was blue at all, that he was acting so defensively. That he had been afraid of being anything. It’s a lot to realize about yourself all at once:

That he is changed, too.

Sunshine’s aura washes into the fingers of his that touch her, from too the fingers of hers that touch him back.

Ribbit.

Ribbit.

The quivering of holding back sobs eases away. Eyes drenched crack open. Her thumb evaluates how stitches feel. Calming, lake-toned azure eases her suffering, at least dulls it into a more distant throb than a sharp pang. His skin feels like...leather. It matches the color, a soft shade of brown. She wonders if this is part of why threads weave into him so easily. "Kakuzu..." He returns, not with her name but what she is to him:

“Takara.”

She still does not know what her name means. She asks something nearly the same as asking for that:

“Why are you so nice to me?”

She speaks of it as if it’s worse than her trying to die.

“I don’t know.” But he does. But it’d taint her more to admit it. Gently, oh so gently, she moves their hands to be clasped over her heart.

“Don’t tell anyone,” she whispers, soft as soft can be, like even a feather could tip the balance and collapse it all for good, things too good to be true crumbling until it turns to dust, the ashes of her cremation. “I’m not ready. I’m not ready for the dream to end.”

…

Kakuzu makes a gamble. He imagines her hand in his as rolling the dice, feeling luck and magic on his fingertips, making him breathless with risk.

“...Then make me a promise.”

“Anything.”

…

…

“You say you love me,” the man finally speaks. His volume so small matches hers, matches the wicked feelings. “How much do you love me?” There’s no time for her to interrupt his answer. “Enough to live?”

The most he could ever ask of her. It’s the challenge of a lifetime. His voice, so soft, so low, sends tingles down her spine. The answer is clear, even if impossible:

“Yes.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

The next day, she finally does it. Rose-tinted glasses and bow-tied hat on, she holds her guitar in the piano room and has told everyone she has a song to sing. But it’s for him.

It’s for all of them, but it’s for him.

Kakuzu ignores Tobi’s excited shoving of Hidan’s arm, bumping the Jashinist into his side. The swearing washes over him, distant and meaningless. The piercing gaze of the Uchiha is no more, nor is the sharp teeth of the animal he calls his partner. Everyone is here, but all eyes are on her.

A strum of the strings, a flick of her wrist, and she practices making a second chance worth the while.

It’s a childish song, the dreaded “s word” that Kakuzu has thought so much, heard too much. It’s about a man that grew out of the ground with a goofy grin on his mug, follows you around like a smiley-face tick. You carry on with your mundane, useless chores, sappy and homey and ridiculous all at once. You change one another.

For better or worse. Bad things happen. Tragedy is inevitable.

Oh...oh...oh… Her melody hums, thick as honey from her tongue. Kakuzu is certain this song is about him, and it is. But it’s also about her. And she’s not willing to let this song end as badly as a prior lifetime. The last “oh” starts low, but it soars, high and hopeful to the heavens. Her stance widens and she looks up to the sky as if it’s hers to claim.

Lemon Boy and I, we're gonna live forever

Like Snufkin and Little My, we'll get around wherever

She wishes she knew how to drive a motorcycle, longs for the wind in her hair and the excitement; it’s what she feels, it’s what would be appropriate. She closes her eyes and arsenic has the aftertaste of adventure. The image pops in her head: her hands on the handles, coolest leather vest in town as a leather-textured boy hangs on her back, her for once in charge of there they go. She has no idea that this is the case all along. Wherever Kakuzu’s arm is dragged, he now follows his treasure to the ends of the earth. The lyrics repeat, the names unknown but the sentiment as clear to the treasurer as their starry night sky:

Lemon Boy and I, we're gonna live forever

Like Snufkin and Little My, we'll get around wherever

Yellow and blue make such a refreshing shade of green.

It's actually pretty easy being nice to a bitter boy like him

'Cause we're the bitterest boys in town

Yeah, we're the bitterest guys around

It’s far too audacious as she abruptly walks over, goes from one man to the next, how she finishes by leaning into Kakuzu’s free side as if he’d have nothing to say about it. He is cloaked, garbed in red clouds of death and a dark mask to conceal his face. To everyone else, he is pretending not to notice...

...But to the stranger, he cannot hide how the smile reaches his eyes, even if he's still unsure to welcome the emotion or try to shove it away. He’s learned so much from the person he’s intended to teach.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

“AAAAAAH-!”

The woman screams as she’s tossed unceremoniously up to the clouds, feeling the force of gravity first in the way that her body attempts to break it, climbing up and up and up with the power of his throw. A couple of times on roller coasters have prepared her instincts well: her stomach sinks in anticipation for the rest of her, just as the acceleration slows and the drop is about to begin.

“AAA—” … And she waits for a fall that does not come. “...Oh…?” The first thing in her vision is the bright blue sky in contrast to the vast forest. Wow...what a view. It’s open like she’s high above—

—Oh. Oh Jesus. Is she really two stories up in the air? TOBI?!

A heavy, heavy sigh is heard from an open window nearby, practically behind her ear. It wakes her up to look down, first at the guys staring up at her from the ground, then a bit closer to her own self. Black threads wrap around her body, around from her back and then loop over and over around her legs; it feels as secure as, well, if you somehow warped metal straight out of the flame to a custom fit just for you. The sight of herself is enough to swallow further shrieks, much to the relief of he who has rescued her from such reckless affairs.

Kakuzu leans down, open fist outside the threshold of the window pane with threads weaving out of rips in his skin that keep her in place. Menacingly, his glower rolls down to the ants below. "You...stupid motherfuckers."

"IT WAS TOBI, JACKASS!" Hidan quickly accuses, pointing to the culprit. A growl and a death glare is all it takes for the masked man to whine like a scared puppy. That’s good enough to appease Kakuzu. For now.

Ironically enough, it's his turn in this ridiculous game: "Come on, then..."

The three watch as the woman flies back into the house, a small eek on the back of her tongue and window promptly shut behind her with a slam. A moment of silence, all four men staring up to where she was spirited away.

…

…

“He’s going to kill you, you know,” Hidan states without any urgency, glancing over to the orange spiral. “He’s kind of famous for that.” And though Tobi fakes shaking in his boots very, very convincingly, everyone else still thinks he’d deserve it.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

What a mess, Kakuzu thinks. He exhales, fully undressed besides a pair of pants, no face covering nor shirt to cover his unnerving stitches. Thanks, Tobi. A small “oof” is muttered as the woman is set down on his bed without a second glance, man himself turning around to retain what little respect he has left. It's an opportunity for the performer to briefly gain her bearings. Kakuzu’s room, she vaguely recalls. Really has been inside it only once— no, not even inside . She’s only seen into it less than a handful of times. Frankly, it’s pretty...ordinary. It’s clean. It at first seems to lack hobbies. No piles of clay, no sword to polish (re-wrap??? Samehada is a stick of bandages, after all), no circle to pray in. But it becomes apparent that what he has instead of things to humor him is...finances. Receipts and bills are nicely organized or are in a pile waiting to be, a bingo book of wanted criminals open that perhaps may promise enough funds to keep this makeshift horrid fucking family alive another day. A couple of briefcases are neatly lined next to his desk, metal and heavy looking as if to transport valuables.

Her head shifts side to side. Grumbling, taking no heed, the treasurer has walked over to his closet in search of attire to make him better suited to be around a lady. He forgets so easily that the strangest thing about him isn't just the stitches but what they lead to on his backside…

"What...?"

Thinking this is about the metal threads, he looks over his shoulder as she finally looks to him and speaks. “They—” he begins. But, oh. Oh, no, it isn’t those her eyes are locked on; the threads have slunk back into his hollowed body already. What he sees, instead, is her pointing squarely at the masks. There's four of them, different animals and colors.

"Are those...attached to you?"

Ah. Right. Damn . He exhales yet again, not moving so she gets a good long look, ogles to her heart's content at the freak he is, get it out of the way. Guess it was inevitable she find out. "Yes." Then he reaches forward, a tank top chosen off the shelf with an open back for these creatures. It’s more comfortable, for one, and for another makes it easier to fight if they don’t have to pop through and ruin a perfectly good shirt. Never can be too prepared. Not too fast as to not scare, he turns his front back around despite his bare chest facing her. She looks so small, somehow, head hunched down and eyes angled up as she sits upon the edge of his own bed. How do they always get off the wrong foot when they don't even try?

"I'm sorry." Because of course she is. There’s footsteps coming up the stairs.

One thing is sure: "Don't be."

A thread drifts away from his bicep like an autonomous, thin tentacle, locking the door just in time to hear the nob shift futility and Hidan knock ever so impatiently to be let in. His head turns sharply, a snarl on his face. She notes how the way his eyes scrunch up is such a common expression above his usual mask; does he always frown like that when they do? "Give the girl ten damn minutes without your nonsense!"

Vague but clearly angry response muddles through the closed door, but Kakuzu's expression stays and so does his order. A moment of silence and gradually the arguing fades, something about promising to be back later. The hunter’s tense brow relaxes and so do the corners of his lips, and red and green eyes stop bulging. In. Out. He catches his breath and turns boiling rage to a simmer. For her sake. Calm down, for her sake.

The stitches on his face move with his cheeks, she can tell from where she grips the edge of the bed; they are, most certainly, not just burns or scars or face paint. His eyes catch hers, a challenge in them that regains a sliver of the anger he managed to beat back, daring her to call him a monster. Unnatural. Hideous. It’s all true, just get it over with. A flash of something else was before that, though, on his face. It's an emotion that feels familiar in her own chest.

Despite his expectations, she reaches out to him, slowly raising her wrist with a begging, upward-facing palm. He doesn't flinch, eyes starting at the woman’s fingertips, trailing up her arm and to her face.

"...What?"

How can she say it? Both palms, now, come back, gesturing together for him to come here. Out of pure confusion and desire to know what the hell she means, Kakuzu simply obeys.

Shaky hands go to the brown arm as he grunts with the unexpected contact, even as her touch is more gentle than he could have imagined. Maybe even especially so. As she sits on his bed, one hand goes under his palm to steady it in place while the other wanders up to explore, both visually and tactilly...

The bounty hunter…has two tattooed bands on his forearm. At first she assumed that's where they come from, but no, the actual stitches are higher up, unmistakable as the source of his eldritch-seeming threads. She traces up to the shoulder, then under his chin. There's even more of these lines on his torso, seen far, far too easily as he hasn’t yet slipped on his top in this unexpected intermission, and she can tell they all lead like train tracks to the masks embedded into his latissimus dorsi. Her eyes consume him, taste him, know him. She's far from the first to witness him like this, in battle or otherwise, and so he ignores the sense of novelty that washes over him and behaves with expectations that are tried and true. Something Kakuzu and his musician have in common is how they’ll insult themselves with the truth before you can turn it against them first.

"...I know. I know what I look like." But she acts like she hasn't . She's seen him before, though, the times she barged in at the peak of midnight...why is it different now?

Sometimes trauma heightens the senses, lets you take in things better than before. The quivering touch of the performer moves to reach further upon his skin, still. In awe, fingertips barely brush against his chest and most unbelievably, he doesn't stop her.

Tears well up on her eyes, which to his surprise turn up to his own instead of staying locked lower down on his ugly, deformed self.

"Does it hurt?"

...That’s not something he's been asked before. IF it hurt, yes, when “it” happened decades ago. If it does when hearts pump out of his back to attack and spew the elements at his enemies. Yes and yes, answers to both as well as if others have been so brave as to inquire directly to the bastard himself. But does he hurt now , merely existing with this curse? It's been so long with the aches stitched into him that he's forgotten, so he searches the numbness under his skin for what the answer may be.

"...Yes," he discovers, despite how it might make her cry. He knows she likes the truth. "...But it's better than before,” Kakuzu softens. In several ways. Better off with than without them. Better off than being fully human. Better off than being dead.

He sits down next to her and unbelievably, after rubbing the saltwater from her face, this woman shifts. Yes, yes, he is not mistaken; this woman now crawls onto his lap.

And he lets her. 

All hearts pounding in discordant, unmatched pulses, he lets her. Legs wrap around his side, thighs seated atop his own. She trusts him. Even after everything, even seeing him like this...—? Oh so delicately, with a hesitance that draws her away before curiosity pulls her back in, this soothing lady traces the metal woven into him. The way he is… It reminds her of something. Something distinct. A visceral sort of memory, one from long, long ago…

…Kakuzu notices before she does that his performer is humming.

It's a tune both sweet and melancholy, befitting a creature like her and somehow, too, the way she approaches a beast like him. His gaze softens, lips no longer a stern, stretched line, and he drinks her wonder in. Kakuzu missed the songs that used to always tinge her voice, and this is the first it’s come back since she has come back home to him, even if so, very small.

“...Oh…!” The woman pulls back, somehow both after too long and far too soon, and she...smiles up at him. This…who he is…makes her happy? “...You remind me of...a rag doll.”

…

Dark brown hair drifts past his face as he savors that nickname, elaborates to himself on the implications. He’s been called it before, yeah...usually just before deciding to detach the person by their arteries. How can it seem so... kind from those lips? So adoring…? She has an answer, and it’s silly just like her.

“When I was little…” the performer tries to explain with stilted words, as plainly as she can so as to not confuse, “...I loved a story. It had a rag doll...who...stuffed herself with leaves.”

The Frankenstein's Monster stays silent, does so regardless of if there’s more for her to add. The slightest, softest inhale and the humming begins again...this time closer to the singing the Akatsuki miss, just without words. Down, up, and up...down… Down, up, and up...down… Lovely indeed, whatever it is, even if simple and bouncy. It was, after all, one of the first melodies she memorized on her own volition. Idly, she traces him again, finding a spot just at his collarbone and right at her line of sight. The threads are stiffer than they look, less like woven fabric and more like surgical staples. How do they move with such lithe grace, so little effort?

As she ponderers this question, one of his own springs off Kakuzu's tongue like a diving board.

“...You never sang when you were alive?” To his relief, the humming doesn’t stop; it’s such a piece of her, this melody that she can do it without thinking. A free hand wipes her eye again, and despite the nature of everything, her tiny smile does not waver nor flinch away as she answers.

“...I wanted to,” she murmurs after a moment, voice light and wispy much the same way as she seems next to someone rough like himself. “I wanted to be a singer...a musician…” A guitarist, a keyboard player, a...star. A performer. “I...learned...to stop doing it...just because I felt I had to, and started doing it...for fun by myself.”

Eyes close, and she tries to identify these marks on him with touch alone, tries to narrow down exactly what he feels like skin on skin. Kakuzu wonders if she can feel how his pulse is stronger than one any normal person should have.

“You could have been.” And she is now, he reminds himself. Or at least she will be once this nonsense is said and done and she can get back to a nondescript civilian life. But...she shakes her head.

“Too scared,” the woman says, “Too shy.”

“How do you know that? Did you try?” Perhaps foolish to challenge; the thing she is surest in besides the persistent strength of humanity is the failures of her own making.

“I had the chance...I was offered...to be in a play…” The smile widens, showing teeth and hiding a grimace. “...I was too little and too scared. And I never…”

…

She doesn’t continue that thought.

“Why didn't you try again? You were just a child, right? Children are allowed to be wrong.” But as soon as he says it, he knows this isn’t true. He knows from experience. So does she. A long, painful silence...and then her eyes open. The humming continues, sweet and sad. She reaches up into his hair, delicately, to see if it feels as smooth as it looks.

"She falls in love with someone...who can't see his demise coming,” the woman explains of the rag doll with leaves. His brown hair is silky and soft. “She tries to help. In the end...it gets her in trouble. He realizes she's in danger and saves her." Kakuzu raises a brow, stitches at his mouth exaggerating a purse of his lips.

"What monster pairs with a living rag doll?" And to his surprise, she beams once more:

"A skeleton!"

...Oh. He grunts, his way of chuckling without being so vulnerable as to give off actual mirth, eyes hooding and smirk forming. "I know what you're going to say, Takara...that that’s like us."

The combing stops, big eyes blinking their befuddlement as the curled fingers pull away. "Excuse me?"

...Oh, dammit. She has never even seen Hidan's ritual form, and so Kakuzu feels his face flush at making the connection himself. Goddammit… As if Hidan could ever save him. It's always the other way around...

"Am...am I...a...a skeleton?" she stutters, not getting it.

"No,” he cuts in sharply. Too sharp, in fact— “I mean— ...never mind."

…

…

The now free hands of the woman fidget index fingers, pressing tip against tip. "There's another character...that's filled with bugs," she adds, as if this is helpful in any way whatsoever.

"…" Kakuzu answers, gaze narrowed and mouth in a straight line.

"I like bugs."

And so he exhales yet-fucking-again. "Takara, you're very fortunate I happen to be tolerant of the dumb shit you say." Hidan owes him for that, too, really.

"Oh." The woman on his lap doesn't need to say: she's sorry. She gets shy and withdrawn and her hands drift even further away. Exasperated, Kakuzu takes them into his own grasp.

"...But it's better than you never talking again."

He can't touch her with his own hands; surely he's too rough, both literally and figuratively. The threads come instead, strange and cold and inhuman. It only makes her remember what it was like to hold him by the fingers, though, as she did once when Kakuzu taught her how to read the stars.

"...Can I ask you something rude?"

What a weird thing to ask. He shrugs, just barely so not to shake her too much up and down as she sits on him. Is this fine? Is she safe so close to him? Is it proper for a man to let her do it? And yet he can’t bring himself to pull them apart. "Alright."

"Why is your skin... so...?"

It isn’t a sigh this time as he releases air from heavy lungs, but a chuckle. You can tell it comes from deep in his chest, even if quiet. "It'd be rude if you ignored it. That's just how I am now."

She blinks again, lashes fluttering. "You weren't... always...?"

"No. I was someone else a long time ago."

"Like me?"

…

He thinks about this, long and hard. This girl does, after all, remind him of who he used to be. So what does that mean of her before? He recalls her mentions of a life before a death, an existence riddled with agony, debt, and servitude. A broken loyalty to a system that felt nothing for her, and waking up to abandon it by any means necessary. …So, perhaps, they have switched lives. Silly boy to serious man. Serious woman to silly girl. Funny how life works out. They both had a death of sorts in between to make it happen, and here they are.

"Sure. Like you, I guess."

"Thank you," she responds inexplicably, despite the implications he sees, an emotion so bright dripping from her mouth like honey from a hive. There isn’t even a blush on her face; with the next action, it’s all whimsy and instinct and no thought whatsoever. It has to be, to be so silly.

The woman leans up and presses a kiss on his forehead, for once bare of the headband marked with his betrayal. A sensation tingles down his own cheeks, down his neck, into the depths of five dark hearts. Despite it all...he feels joy. It makes him tense up. Alas, this is so easy to pick up on with how close they are, and she jerks back immediately, crawling off his lap just as quickly as she got on. Now her face is red.

"Sorry…! I—... Sorry."

Sorry... That’s the right word for giving a guy like him the time of day, the warmth from a sixth blood-pumping organ somehow tied inseparably to his quintet. "It's fine,” he responds in calculation, choosing not to tell her how much he enjoyed it. “Just...be careful who you do that to. Alright?"

Instead of asking why, she simply says, unable to look him in the face: "I'm bad…" And calmly— oh so calmly compared to a moment ago— he retorts, his own voice murmured and already longing for her song.

"I didn't say that."

...

"I meant it,” the taki-nin elaborates, both as a comfort and an admonition. “We're all like this, Takara. ...If not outside like me then on the inside. Keep your wits about you. Save your affection for those who are deserving. It isn’t you that’s wrong, here. If someone has to be called 'bad'…" Childish worldview as it is, to be so black and white, the answer is undeniable. “...It’s us. They threw you, for god’s sake.”

"But...I...—"

"And if you can't," he adds selfishly, and the next is a whisper. "At least be tactful about it." The scariest part about what happens next is that he does, indeed, mull it over before it’s done. The outcomes are considered, the details poured over, and the fool still does exactly as he's warned her of.

A press of his world-weary lips comes from out of nowhere yet arrives so, so gently, just as soon pulling back before she can even tell what's happened. And though he isn’t brimming with sunshine like Takara can, this old man still can’t hide he’s making a silly, silly choice. "...Duckling."

And that’s it. There’s the slightest smirk on his face as he slinks backwards off the bed, visible until Kakuzu turns around and throws the signature cloak of his ilk over leathery-textured shoulders. The traveler gapes, what she thought as her mistake now his confirmation—

“Oi!” another guilty pleasure beckons impatiently behind Kakuzu’s locks. The bounty hunter huffs, allowing the woman one last opportunity to see a widening grin before the mask slips back on.

“Perfect timing.”

Before she knows it, another, paler set of arms come around the performer, Hidan complaining with his chin upon her head of her terrible, unforgivable absence for all of ten minutes. It really is over so very, very quickly. It has to be, lest the choices grow poorer and poorer between a half-naked man and a lady not even back to herself.

But he hums the lonely rag doll’s song back to himself all the same in private the rest of this day, up through dinner, in the bath, hell— maybe even in his sleep. It somehow sounds just fine on his old, gravely tongue as a mind re-walks the life it’s led just to work up to something as stupid and risky as this. Dead leaves fall down past the window where the zombie scooped her into his waiting lap, and he wonders what it would be like to stuff them underneath his patchwork skin.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Are you serious?”

A response like that and it's obvious why the woman squirms in embarrassment, looking away and locking her knees as she holds a prized possession tightly to her chest, though it hasn't been with her as long as the phone she shared with Deidara. Book to her chest, she nearly looks like a schoolgirl; that is, if she was a schoolgirl from Hell. Kakuzu narrows his scrutinizing stare. He’s wearing his face covering and hood, but only the eyes are needed for Jashin’s worst disciple to feel his harsh judgment.

“It’s never...felt like the right time!” Yeah, sure. The lady has time to tell Kakuzu she’s a suicide victim from another dimension but not any to tell her supposed "first friend" she can’t fucking read. Silence alone is capable of speaking this aloud, whether it is from the immortal or if it is her own making. Regardless, the truth of her hypocrisy is enough to make her hum with agitation, skin upon her face bright red. “I know, I know...I’m sorry.”

Kakuzu can’t help but lower his head and pinch his temple at that nonsense. “Takara...it isn’t me you need to apologize to.”

“I know—” The defense is quick...but then hits the reality, and her shoulders drop. “...I know,” she repeats, softer and wiser, hooded gaze locked on the lefthand wall, though it isn’t far enough to keep Kakuzu out of her peripheral, and that alone is enough to make her realize she’s hiding, even if metaphorically. Lids shut and she exhales hard, slumping her shoulders. “I just...don’t know where to begin.”

It is so, so tempting to be a smartass right now, but the tone she carries tells him that’s the last thing she needs. An exhale of his own, lighter behind his mask, and the stitched man reaches forward and gestures with an exasperated “give it” gesture. And though she hesitates, it is only because she wishes she did not have to. All the same, Hidan’s wretched, literally bloody bible is put into trusted hands.

“I’ll do it just this once,” the old man grumbles, though he has no idea what is going to stop her from asking again and him from giving in so readily to those big star-reading eyes. He feels the woman sit by his side as he observes the book itself. “I still can hardly believe he managed the damn thing.” The front cover, barely attached now with how hard Hidan tried to carve his own sigil onto it, is folded open. Hands so practiced with flipping pages feel the age of the ones upcoming, a finger tracing over the folds. “The blood certainly didn’t help the damage this one already must have had…” he laments. Not his kind of book, whatever sort of fairy tale this used to hold, but still seems like a waste... Though perhaps, since it was abandoned, becoming something else at the hands of a crazed prophet was the next best thing.

...The woman is so close, her cheek resting on his bare arm, usual cloak draping on the back of the couch instead of over his shoulders. A palm moves to rest on his thigh, and the way it feels makes him look over to her. To his own surprise, he speaks not with admonishment but with concern. “You’re tense,” Kakuzu observes. She nods.

“Kakuzu…” the performer mutters, looking lost in letters on a page that could mean absolutely anything. “...He made this so long ago...what if there’s something he’s meant for me to know this whole time? Working on the assumption that I just...get it and agree?” She’s already hardly on board with the whole ‘kill people’ thing, if even that. Hidan’s...a lot, to say the least, but what if...what if…?

...There’s a lot of what ifs, all of a sudden. That’s why she hasn’t told him yet she hasn’t read it.

“Like what?” Hidan’s partner prods, trying to decide if he’s savoring the sensation of her touching him so tenderly or merely noticing it, based on how much it’s sticking out to his attention. But she’s just quiet, the words she wants to say either nonsensical or merely impossible to describe. The resulting action is that she sinks ever closer, like she can disappear under his skin.

“Can I tell you something?”

That’s her way of saying she’s asking for emotional labor, which is honestly appreciated to consent to in advance. “...I suppose,” he allows.

Ah shit, where does she begin? There’s a thousand layers with a thousand more strings threading them together, stitching her heart into a whole human being. It’s just something so fundamental that it’s overwhelming to consider, to try to help someone see how you see without getting lost on the way there. Perhaps the only thing that can be done is start at the beginning…

“The...the day we first met,” the woman ties to explain, and she wonders if he can tell how her pulse is racing. “Hidan took me out to eat...and when I told him I was kidnapped...he said I wasn’t pretty.”

Kakuzu’s eyes nearly pop out of their sockets at first, though they soon narrow to nearly slits. “...What.” She squirms yet again, burrowing a little lower into his side.

“It...made sense in the context,” she tries to defend once more, “Talking about...why I might have been kidnapped.”

That doesn’t solve that much for Kakuzu, however. “So what?”

…

So everything, really. Her lungs empty again. What comes next may come across like a non sequitur, though it’s far from it for the traveler.

“Kakuzu...you— you were my first kiss...you know?” And finally, finally, she shifts to look up at him. All of a sudden, it makes sense; face so innocent, hands so scared, heart so gentle. Far, far from how Hidan and Kakuzu have lived their lives. And she picks them...? “And…” a smile flickers, genuine despite her anxiety. “...It was...wonderful.”

It’s his turn to heat up now, though it’s hidden behind fabric. He tilts his head to glance down. This is the first they’ve talked about it since it happened... A quick glance to the exit he faces, a quick sensing of chakra— at least as well as he can— and he decides this is safe, so long as their voices stay low.

“...I’m flattered you think so,” he replies sincerely, though so, so tempted to joke that it isn’t much of a compliment if she has only kissed once. The squiggly, shy smile she gives is more than enough reward for holding his tongue so obediently.

“I love you…!” But then...her expression so slowly drops. “I...need to tell you something." It's so, so worried. "And it’s okay if you don’t like it. You just have to know.”

He blinks with a short grunt. What could that mean? “Whatever you say won’t be as bad as you think it is,” Kakuzu assures. But she shakes her head in disagreement.

“You might not like me anymore,” she says, despite every alarm in her brain telling her to stop here. “And that just has to be okay.” Just as she turns to look away, lest she lose her nerve to talk at all, a leathery hand, as delicately as a brute like him can, takes two fingers underneath her chin and pulls her back. The only part of his face visible, still, are his eyes, but that’s all that’s needed.

“Tell me,” he says. And he means it. No anger, no harm, will befall her today. “It’ll be just fine.”

And maybe, just maybe, it will. The woman’s smallest smile comes forth, a teardrop welling in one eye that she shoves away with the back of her hand; Kakuzu’s own pulls back, allowing space. “Okay…” she promises, steeling herself.

With only the books on the shelf to hear, she tells him a secret. The woman had no idea until...well...the exact day is unknown. It more so...crept up on her. Little by little, it became apparent that a piece of her was becoming more prominent...something she never thought would have opportunity to be heard...and not everyone may understand.

“There’s...something from my world,” she starts, though backtracks already. “Though I suppose it may have a name here, too.” Surely it exists, but is it known? Is it accepted? “It’s...it’s like..." she struggles. "You know how people say they give their heart to you and only you?”

He does, though perhaps he's experienced it in a more literal manner. ...Damn, he’s on fire today. Shame it’s not the right place or time to be stand up comedian. As such, Kakuzu allows the woman to continue.

“I...never really understood it,” she admits, making herself so small, and though something deep inside tells her to feel guilty, her heart and mind both know better. It took a long time to get so far as to recognize this is how she is, let alone speak it. “I always thought of love as...bottomless. You know? Like how it can be unconditional. Energy is real and finite, yeah, but…”

You’re halfway there. Just spit it out.

...

...

“I don’t...feel...love...the same way others do. At least...how most others seem to. I can feel love...for more than one person at once.” And you need to elaborate: “Without feeling the need...to...choose.”

He doesn’t move. Not an inch. That could mean anything.

“Y-y-you don’t have to spend time with me,” she apologizes in so many words, tumbling fast as they can before Kakuzu can interrupt. It’s already unbelievable she’s been kissed at all; what if he doesn’t feel that way anymore? What if she just threw it all out the window?! “If that makes you uncomfortable.”

…

…

A shake.

Her eyes pop wide. She feels him tremble. Bit by bit, the stirring inside him grows. And it scares the shit out of her, so much so she sits straight up and stops pressing skin against skin. It scares her...until…

…

He squeezes his eyes shut...and...

The man chuckles.

To her amazement, from deep in his chest and five hearts, he feels joy. She watches in both confusion and awe, gaze flicking up at down over him as he raises a hand to cover a mouth already unseen. Almost like hiccups, a few more laughs come before the man takes in a steadying breath and opens his eyes once again to look at her. There's mirth in them that perhaps no one else has gotten to see.

“Is that all?” And it’s so silly how she perks up in surprise at that. “Listen..." he elaborates, "I’ve been alive longer than most. Certainly longer than you...unless you’re immortal too.” ...Did he tell her that yet? Well, damn. Explanations can come in due time if necessary. “I’ve seen a lot of unbelievable shit. And duckling?”

Duckling, she hears the word ring in her ear like a sweet, sweet bell.

“That’s far from it.”

...It takes a second before her mouth knows how to talk again. “You...you don’t mind?”

“Again. Far from it,” he snorts, tilting his head and hooding his eyelids so coyly, putting an arm over the top of the couch so as to exaggerate his relaxed state. “I knew from the start. You...just love everyone.” And a raise of the brow with enough pause to make sure she sees it. “...Didn’t I tell you so? That’s why I warned you.” Warned her to be strategic about her affections, that is.

And now her mouth is merely open because she is dumbfounded. “You...knew?!”

And he nods.

Blink blink. “I...oh…” And though her cheeks never stopped flushing, somehow the blush takes on a whole new meaning. Kakuzu...understands. He...understands!

“I’m guessing you’re worried Hidan might not get it, too.”

There it is. The heart of the matter. He regrets hopping right to it, as it makes her shrink up just as much as before, but it needs to be done; she didn't bring this up for nothing. And indeed, she did have purpose: “Well, yeah...but...that’s not really the issue, per say. He just...doesn’t...like me that way. And that’s fine! It’s just…”

…

“You want him to.”

She nods, guiltily. “But the one thing I’ve learned is you can’t force people to change how they feel. You can only change what you do about it.”

“Wise words from a silly little duckling.” And though she smiles again, it is still more nervous than happy, so he has to explain. “Takara...I can’t pretend to know that. What he really thinks.” Of course not. “But. I can tell you what I’ve seen. Even he doesn’t ‘love you’, whatever the hell that really means...the damn man is changed. Trust me. I spend every waking moment with the bastard.”

She spurts a giggle, indignant.

“You laugh, but really,” he returns with the slightest dismissive raise of his wrist. And then he turns forward again in his seat, grasp to return to Hidan’s writings meant only for his disciple. Kakuzu lifts it up in demonstration. “No matter what is in this damn book...he’s not the same man he was when he made it, I figure. You of all people should know that affection is so fucking tumultuous… Who gives a shit if he thinks you’re pretty? He’s your friend.” Then the clincher, asking her to think for herself: "Right?"

That's the hardest part. The bottom lip, already scarred from similar, prior action, is bit. Unable to take it, Kakuzu exhales once more and cups her chin again, leaning close so she can focus on nothing else. If she admires him...he's going to make use of it. The next words are whispered.

“That’s something I never thought he had in him.”

The gentle fingers linger away, the woman’s eyes fluttering as she drinks it all in. “He’s...my friend.”

Kakuzu dips his head affirmatively. “Yeah." But enough of that; too many emotions already. "Now let’s get this over with and read this goddamn book.” Then...a sharpness in his stare, a mischievous gleam. “...Unless you want to tell me more about how the likes of me was your first kiss.”

Though it isn’t the sort of easy choice Kakuzu meant it to be for her, the intended answer is still obvious. Still in disbelief, like it’s all a dream, she nods again herself and slides back next to the large rag doll, so warm and kind despite how hard she makes it to be. Whatever is in that book, it has to be okay.

“Let’s see…” he murmurs, soon as she's nice and cozy. No backing down now...

And the minutes pass like nothing, smooth as melting butter. Hidan’s written word begins with mostly what is expected— the best way to draw your ritual circle, the preferred sources of blood both for individuals and for the spots on their body, the nuances of modern dririmancy— but then, page by page, it drifts into something more...metaphysical.

Kakuzu never really gave due credit before how eloquent his partner can be, how well thought. Of course, he has a whole mindset— a whole religion to justify his actions— but the elaboration of it...the depth of introspection Hidan took...Kakuzu becomes wrapped up in it.

And there comes a point that he begins to read out loud less for the performer and more for himself, his own enraptured curiosity.

There comes a point where a man, immortal or not, has to admit his shortcomings. I’m not a genius. I’m not dumb, but I only know what I know. The thing I pray for most, each time you see me put the pendent up to my face, is an answer. I don’t know what it means for there to be a neighbor I don’t want to lose. That’s Jashin’s core tenant, after all: slaughter your neighbor. But what does it mean if despite all that...I got all this fervor and dedication and hot blood for the slaying...I can’t shake it. There are few people in this life I care about, so maybe that’s it. Maybe all my neighbors have just been dirt under my shoe. Takara, my angel—

Kakuzu, at the time this was written before they traveled to the desert, had never heard him call the woman “Takara” nor “angel.” The remainder of the writing rolls of his tongue less like he’s saying it and more he’s being possessed.

What’s a man to do when someone’s more than just a neighbor?

The man takes a gasp as a sound comes from the person pressed to Kakuzu’s side. He looks to her and instead of a similar expression of shock, she is as relaxed as can be. She exhales, low and soft...and he sighs.

Goddammit...when did she fall asleep?

His deep, gravely voice has put adrift a weary woman, so emotionally exhausted from the events of today, to her dreams at the ocean. He turns back to the book, the words meant just for her from a reaper so desperate for a listening ear, and he wonders how much of their conversations on bounty hunts and religious killings were just talking and ignoring instead of really comprehending. Kakuzu’s jaw tightens. He doesn’t dare read the last page of this book out loud.

I want you to tell me if you love me, too. Maybe then I’ll know what to do about it.

Hidan either knew all along she never read his book, or he’s been waiting all this time, wondering if she’s just sparing him his feelings. Kakuzu, realizing this, throws the back of his skull onto the back of the cushion, hearts so heavy and light all at once he's left to stare at the ceiling. The zombies really, really need to have a talk...especially before whatever these two idiots feel come to a head with all that's been left unsaid.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“ACK—!”

She hears her first sound, Hidan grunting despite gritted teeth and bracing for the impact. Kakuzu has no remorse for how harshly he sews the pin cushion man all back together. Damn fool deserves this and so much more.

“What the HELL were you thinking?!”

She tries to answer but she can’t, tongue mute. Fate has decided this is not a conversation for her to partake in.

“Kakuzu, I—FUCK!”

The thread loops into him, though the exclamation may be from the way the named man grips Hidan’s shoulder tight.

“What in your perverted, twisted brain made you THINK-?! No. No. You didn’t think at all!”

“Kakuzu—!”

“Do you know…?!” he leans in close, nice and close so Hidan can see nothing but haunted gemstone eyes, the spirit in them aflame with fury. “Every day...we are one inch away from being THROWN OUT and NEVER seeing her again,” he hisses, deep and low. The reaper’s sneer could be from either his physical suffering or his emotional one. It isn’t enough. Nothing will be enough.

“We started this...with everyone being suspicious,” the rag doll continues. “And we nearly. Lost. It all. When they found that bruise.”

The damn bruise. Maybe that was enough. Maybe they did deserve to never be near her again, if this is what was destined to happen. Maybe then they wouldn't be cowering, recovering where no one can see, in the inn where Hidan tried fish, where Kakuzu began to wonder if he could still find some semblance of a good life. Good fucking riddance to that.

“We were let back in," he seethes, burning and burning with coal of hatred in his chest. "And YOU… You…!”

The grip gets tighter. Hidan hacks again, but no fighting back.

“You may have ruined everything we had.”

Bit by bit, shaky violet eyes unclench, a stutter in the reaper's throat:

“I…” he tries to explain, as best as he can, “I...tried to save her—”

A smack as Kakuzu holds him by the collar and cracks his knuckles into Hidan’s head.

“FUCK!!! Asshole, that HURTS!”

“HOW DO YOU THINK SHE FEELS?!”

And just like that, he’s awake and coherent, at the spur of a woman’s autonomy on the line. “THAT SHE HURTS! THAT’S WHY! That is WHY—!”

His punctured, mutilated chest heaves up and down, a still weary set of lungs catching breath now that it’s been injected with righteous fury. Mask over Kakuzu’s face, all you can see on him is his green, red, glittering anger. Hidan spits, blood in the saliva from somewhere in his impaled guts.

“Kakuzu…!” He needs to understand; Hidan HAS to make him understand. There HAS to be a way—! “She...she’s sick. She’s sick real bad, Kakuzu…”

Kakuzu barely has enough tact to keep the thought of “of course she is” held back from his lips. Through Hidan’s quivering, determination, as ever, overtakes his being, even when he’s bloody and cut and beat up and at the mercy of the world’s most fucked up surgeon, literally holding him together by a single thread. Through the shake eyes have in their sockets...there lies something the old man has never seen before— not in him.

A secret can't be kept any longer.

“I ask her to hurt me to stop her from hurtin’...herself.”

And something in Kakuzu clicks. Little...by little...his iron hold laxes. More...and more...until Hidan is let go. Wide-eyed for a new reason, the masked man now grips onto his own head and falls back against the wall. Hidan’s brow curls as he watches this happen, a long pause of silence until the priest's partner manages to speak again. The rage, perhaps, is gone...or at least redirected.

“...How long?” he asks.

And Hidan knows what he means, though he hesitates to tell. “...Since we got back from the desert," the answer is mumbled. Days and months and full seasons away. And he knows— he knows before Kakuzu beats him to the punch:

“Why?" And then, more urgently, confused. "Why? Why didn’t you...—?”

But he can’t finish the thought, wretched as this all is, barely under wraps like a bedsheet trying to hide a corpse. It’s the reaper’s damn responsibility. His gaze casts down in shame.

“Never felt like the right time.”

Ironic how Kakuzu heard her say the same thing just some hours ago. Finally, finally, the man pulls off his mask lest he suffocate any more, raises his gaze in search for connections and answers. “Hidan…” he mutters. Unsure what to ask next, he simply states thoughts as they come. “There’s no way she asked for this.”

Blood rusting against the stitches on his neck, his chin tilts diagonally away. “...That’s right,” he admits. “I just...told her. I told her she could. I...showed her...she can.”

“And you thought this would make her better.”

...Hidan knows an accusation when he hears one. A magenta stare flickers up to meet the challenge, though head stays meekly down; the man is contradictions, the very thing the woman admired him for. “Better,” he repeats. “...Not perfect. But...”

Kakuzu sighs. “...Better.” Against his better judgment, he understands. He understands much more, now. His skull rests against the planks of wood that make up the inn room’s wall. Heavy lungs exhale. How naive. How stupid of him. The woman he named Takara told him so clearly how her story finished. But Hidan...Hidan…

...He looks at Hidan now, cloak open and barely draped around him, hastily thrown on pants with red seeped into its cloth. On the few missions they shared...since they started to live in that house...Kakuzu had noticed the marks. They always healed so fast. But they were still there. New and fresh and already fading. It had been noted but information not made use of. What did it matter what the guy did in his own spare time? A lot, evidently.

And that is how Hidan got to see how the woman tumbled her way towards the end.

And the rag doll presses his fingertips to his forehead, the sliced headband that eternally reminds his own betrayal and loss, and closes his eyes. Now that the girl is stable and the priest has explained...the exhaustion in him begins to overtake. He needs a second...he needs a moment lest something in him break when his strength is needed most. In this break it provides, Hidan’s spirit too searches for respite; it only makes sense he looks to the thing that’s always calmed him down.

He looks to the side.

There she is.

Laid up on the bed. Kakuzu’s cloak underneath, opened up so you can see the way her chest goes up and down when she breathes. In...out... Like a zombie, he staggers forward mindlessly, without realizing he is until he's already there.

She’s just in her underwear. Used to be something clean and pale, so it wouldn’t show under her dress. It’s a shade of pink now, splotched in different depths of it, based on how long and deep the blood got to soak. He’s standing over her now, and his stare traces all the way down, top of her head...her half open eyes...and lips...neck and breasts...stomach, cunt...thigh. The skin there is angry and reddening. Normal bodies resist the healing process so much more than Hidan’s does; he can already feel the insufferable itch that comes as cells reattach, layers close back in on their own. Hers, though...it isn’t going to be so fast.

Even with Kakuzu’s mending, it’s going to hurt for a while.

Hidan takes a deep breath and feels himself bob side to side, still struggling to focus. His grasp reflexively goes for his neck, but not finding the intended target, instead combs up into his hair, providing a sensation to try and help him concentrate, stay awake. “My necklace…” he murmurs, “My damn necklace…” To pray over her. To ask for forgiveness. Lids crack open...and something is different.

She is looking back at him.

And the whole world stops.

...And he feels like the luckiest man alive.

“Look at her…” he whispers. Because he certainly does. He’s helpless but to lean in, put his hands forward in her space until, as before, they figure out what they want to do. “That’s my angel…!”

Gentle, his palm cups her cheek and Hidan begins to sink closer down. He can feel Kakuzu watching. And it isn’t that he doesn’t care, no...

He’s asking him to see.

“Look at our girl…” And for the first time, this whole time...somehow...someway...Hidan begins to smile. His knees get onto the bed and he looms over her, closing in..and in...and in...until his forehead is pressed so reverently onto hers.

“Isn’t she something…?” he asks, a tremble in his voice. All this time, he's never forgotten the first day he met, how he felt his lord Jashin place a hand on his shoulder and behold...behold the one who will change your whole life. His eyes screw back shut, and she can feel his sharp inhale, both in pain and in marvel. “Isn’t she beautiful…?!”

And she wonders if she’s dreaming, as tears fall on top of her face. Is he...? Is he really...?

“She did such a damn good job…!” a pious soul struggles, gritting his teeth, sneering his lips with effort and overwhelming, holy emotion. And Kakuzu can only watch, no idea what to make of this, no idea what— if anything— he can do. The reaper's lone confidant is begged for once again:

“Kakuzu…”

And the man's breath hitches, a witness in the corner. The Jashinist is all but a puddle, barely held up by his own scratched arms.

“It’s our girl, Kakuzu…!”

The named man remains where he stands, entirely dumbfounded. The most selfish person in the whole world is praying over her, to her, and asks him to do the same. Stitched lips part but can’t find words to speak. He watches her...as she watches him. Even half closed, the big starry eyes are so soft, so knowing. She looks then at Hidan, and Kakuzu can already tell there’s no anger in that heart at all.

She manages...her first words.

“I’m...s-...s-..." Though inevitable, they let her finish. "Sorry.”

And quivering, trembling with adoration, Hidan tells her through sobs, “...Shut up.”

The stars begin to well at the bottom of her eyes, and the ocean, drip by drip, escapes in the saltwater that falls down her face and stains onto the pillow.

He’s only being like this because he feels bad...right? Right? She remembers what he said. “I’m not...beautiful…” she corrects, barely audible at all. “You...don’t..have to…”

And with only Kakuzu and Jashin as his witness, Hidan can't take this anymore shuts her up himself. Overtop of her, in this dingy little inn, he does what he should have done from the very start. His palms hold her face...and with all the gentleness in the world…

He kisses her.

He kisses her.

He kisses her.

In…

…

Out...

The sigh of breath as he pulls back, just enough to look her in the eyes, push stray locks off of her forehead. “I don’t care anymore,” he says, only now that they’ve reached the brink, the edge of universes and fate and faith and chance. “I don’t care about that fucking book. I love you. I love you! Jashin, damn me, I—!”

He.

Kisses.

Her.

And this time as he pulls back, she finally knows how to speak. It takes a moment of furrowing her brow and thinking past both bliss and throbbing pain. “...Book…?” she repeats, dizzy with the taste of him on her lips, blood and all. His eyes narrow but his grin widens, both adoringly and spitefully.

“So you didn’t read it. That’s it.”

A gasp. Her mouth opens.

Despite himself, Kakuzu can only watch. These idiots will figure it out, after all, despite everything and themselves in their way.

“I...I don’t…” Finally, finally. “I don’t...know...how to read.”

…

A stutter.

A twitch.

And a laugh.

Hidan laughs, slamming his fist into the pillow, bitter and relieved all at once. Before she can apologize again, he sits up, winding in an inhale of air and rolling his shoulders, finally feeling like a free man.

“Babydoll…! After all this time...!”

And she can feel every inch of him shake with the next rough, roar of a laugh, as Hidan kneels over a woman who hardly believes this is happening at all.

“Angel, baby…” The word takes on a new meaning now, next to these others. She thought it was just a nickname, an extension of sorts of their relationship...and well...it was. But it was a lot more than that, too.

But it’s hard to outright call someone your love, your light, your everything when you aren’t sure what they feel back. Finally, his eyes roll back down, and he looks more like his usual, coy self...maybe even then some.

“...You could have saved us a lot of trouble.”

Us.

...Wait.

Hidan flinches, visibly shifts. His smile drops. “Wait,” he realizes. And all of a sudden, he feels so wrong. Shit...shit...! She didn't even SAY! “I— do you—?”

A woman's too stunned, stuck within dreams of the beach and heavenly touches come to life, to fill in the blanks for him. He has to ask. He has to be the one to stop assuming, and to save them some trouble. And so he swallows his pride and he begs, one word at a time:

“Do...you...love me...too?”

In the way that he loves her. Because he never figured out what she meant when she said "love" before.

And weight of his shadow on top of her, heat of his body, the sweat on his stomach...the kindness of his face…

Silly. Silly things, they are.

“Yes,” she tells him. And she swallows the ‘but’. “Yes,” she promises him, no backing down. “Yes,” she exclaims, in spite of everything in her telling a woman that she doesn’t deserve it.

And, savoring every inch of it, Hidan comes down and kisses her yet again. Her eyes close, and it still doesn't seem real.

She does not see as Hidan turns his head to look at Kakuzu...not only acknowledge him but beckon him here. The stitched man’s jaw drops; he had thought his fun, the little bit of delight, was all over. Even if Takara was willing to share, Hidan wouldn’t.

Oh how wrong he was.

“Look at our girl,” Hidan tells him again, a cock of his head used to gesture, soon as Kakuzu stands at the foot of the bed. “Isn’t she somethin’?”

And she is. Kakuzu feels himself losing his breath, the twitch in his hands and the blood rushing in his veins. He sees what is happening—

“Hidan,” he mutters. “Be careful.” No, indeed, no rage at all, not even a bit. “She’s still hurt. She’s still scared.” The reaper snorts, giving a lopsided smirk.

“But you fixed us up so nice…!” the silver-haired demon coos, and as he combs into her locks again, the woman’s eyes open. He smiles at her, so very devilishly, longingly. There's no stopping him and Kakuzu can tell. Another secret has to be told:

“She’s never kissed before.”

...

...

Hidan rolls his shoulders and looks back; the lust in his eyes is not reserved just for one, and Kakuzu wears a target on his forehead. Fuck. “...And how do you know that, you old bastard?”

That shuts Kakuzu up right quick.

“You make it to her before me?" the younger man retorts, relentless. "Kakuzu...I’m hurt!” And before she can mumble a sincere apology, Hidan presses a thumb onto the lips of this conversation's subject. “Well...baby,” he turns to ask her now...and all of a sudden she's noticing him stripping off a cloak of black and red clouds. “You ever fucked?”

And of course she hasn’t.

He knows she hasn’t.

Couldn’t have if he was the first person she saw nude. And he’s looking right. At. Her.

"Then I get to be the first at something else."

All of a sudden she remembers how naked she is. That and the glimmer in her eyes makes Hidan so very, very excited.

“I’ll be the first to make you cum, baby.”

A gasp and her heart pounds so heard it hurts. Hidan continues, pinning her down with hooded purple irises as he talks it out to Kakuzu, lest he ruin the moment, make her even more scared.

“I promise...I promise I’ll be gentle... We'll talk it out and nothin' happens she doesn't want..." The tongue that sips blood comes out, swirling slowly over his lips. "And ain’t gonna touch that cute little garter you put on her pretty leg...no matter how much I wanna.”

She looks down. The stitches of her wound do look like a garter. Pulsating pain or not...it…— Oh shit. It took all this for her to realize what is about to happen.

...Just as Hidan places one knee...over the other side of her pelvis...and begins to straddle. That's what it takes.

“Lost your tongue, eh angel…?” he leans in close. His nose rests into her neck. “Then do what you do best…” he instructs her. “Sing to me instead. The first one. The one you said in the woods about prayin’. I wanna make you feel that way...”

So even since back then, not even a full day. That’s all it took for lonely Hidan to change his mind about whether or not she’s pretty. She swallows, and worries try to resurface and explain.

“I...I’ve never…”

“She’s scared.” Kakuzu repeats himself in interruption, and suddenly he’s so much closer, too. Hidan opens one eye and glances up to his partner, daring.

“Then help me show her,” he says. “Help me show her she doesn’t need to be.”

And then the rag doll and his duckling lock eyes. Her lips part with nothing to say but disbelief, sighs and grunts and gasps. She looks so innocent...is so innocent...but as Kakuzu sees the bob in her throat to swallow again...as she sighs...as she begs with eyes alone…

...He just needs to be sure and actually ask. No more assuming. Not this time, especially not when they're her first.

“Do you want me? Us…?”

The line between reality and fantasy blurring is the only thing that holds her back. She looks at them, two men as different as night and day… She went from having the worst day of her life to...to...this…! She’s dreaming. She has to be dreaming.

...And if that’s the case...

Then...

Then there will be no regrets.

Then she can say...yes.

The permission is mouthed and that’s all it takes. The world's most hellish want a bite of heaven. Hidan dips in first.

The man eases into it, trying to keep advice in mind, trying to go slow, starting at her forehead...then her mouth...over the length of her neck, down to her breast. She stutters...and that's when the woman catches as Kakuzu gets onto the bed, easily residing the little free space left. That gorgeous brown hair of his is free, dreadfully long and brushes the top of his muscular bust. A glance of admiration— or perhaps, rather, amusement— and a big hand tenderly takes one much smaller. The man at first just holds it, noting how soft, how selfish he is to know it at all, then raises it next to her head, pinning it by the wrist as he begins to bend down.

“You can say stop at any time,” he reminds, behind her ear in the low voice that sends tingles down her spine. But why on earth would she do that, she thinks, when she's longed for so long? “You’re in control here.”

But is she? How can she be when she is being touched, caressed, held by two men she’s wanted so desperately all this time? She’s going to lose control entirely...but she can appreciate what he means by that.

“Just...don’t...touch my leg…” She’s already whimpering; they’re going to have to draw this out, lest it end so soon. Kakuzu nods, his silky hair bobbing with the motion. He picks her hand back up and traces it onto his stitches...over his chest...down his stomach.

“Do you like this?” half sincere, half teasing. “Don’t flatter me for its own sake.” Of course she nods. And on her own, to answer that question, her hand moves further down.

For someone who hasn’t handled a man’s cock before, she’s damn good at it.

The stiffness already forming firms even more, Kakuzu so hard underneath his attire, coddled in her touch. How many times has he touched himself, imagining something like this? In the bath, getting undressed...one hand balancing himself against the wall while the other pulls?

Maybe as much as Hidan has. Maybe as much as she has.

As Kakuzu moans, so does Hidan. “Angel…” he praises, a palm over her other tit while his mouth takes a break from the first. Not even sex can keep this bastard from talking, though she doesn't mind, not at all. His words just make it all the more incredible. “Look at us, angel. Two of the biggest and baddest and you’re gonna make us cum in our pants like it’s nothing… What a good girl, eh…?”

And he raises up, if only to watch the cute expression she makes as he squeezes, sees the give of flesh between his fingers. The bra just gets in the way.

“Let’s get that nonsense off…”

A flick from his pocket and she’s set free. Kakuzu hums in satisfaction. “Damn kunai...good for something after all…” All the same, he watches the woman for a reaction, just in case it’s too much, being reminded of the weapon. A bit of a glint in her eye, a vocalization of startle—

Hidan catches on first. It’s thrown to the side, far away from where the blade can touch her again. Doesn't need it anymore. “Rest I’m gonna do myself," he says. "Gonna make the old man watch. Can you do that, girlie? Come on...show us how wet we make ya... I'm sure you are...!”

The strap of her underwear is pulled down, and it confirms how right he is. A big, big grin stretches in satisfaction. With that, there's only one question left:

“How do you want it, angel?”

…

It takes a moment for her to realize what that means.

“Face up? Face down? Me? Him? Both of us?” So quick he goes back on his word, his desire to tease the partner he wants so much to beat. Just the sight of the mounds of Venus and all a man wants is to get her off. Choices given, they both give her time to collect, to coherently choose. With some reluctance, Kakuzu takes her hand off his crotch, and Hidan lifts himself up by the palms to get a good read on her face. Sweet little thing...already so hot and bothered. She really hasn’t fucked before. If there was any doubt before, certainly isn’t now…

The woman looks at them both, two men radiant with adoration and lust after holding it in for so long, no outlet for it until everything fell into place. A perfect storm. Surely they want to get inside her...and she nearly asks for this—

...But.

But.

She is still afraid. Even if a little. Even if only because she does not yet know her own body quite so well as they may. And so, despite how much she wants to give, it has to be okay if she takes, instead. Surely they won't mind.

“T-t-touch me,” she pleads under her lost breath, words she’s held back for so long. “P-p-please…!”

And she’ll be touched with hands and mouths as hungry as they are vicious.

Darker lips hold onto hers, matching palms taking their turn massaging nipples and feeling her moan into his mouth, letting her feel the moan from it, too. Her legs are spread open as a man tastes the sweetest thing he’s ever had the pleasure of tracing his tongue around. In between kisses, she sings as requested, even if soft, even if broken up, even if hardly said at all. Even if it feels a little bit silly. It's all that they asked for, so it's what she's got to give. She begs of them:

Take me to church

Waves of her are ridden, unintentional bucking of hips. Her breath quickens...and raises...and loudens... Until she’s begging, until the sound of her crying and screaming in pain is far, far away. Now, it is ecstasy.

Kakuzu holds her hand as she grips tight, and he pulls away just enough to see the look on her face for what comes next.

A moan.

A clench.

...And with her lovely, lovely voice...a release.

Hidan looks up at her, magenta eyes hooded and something thicker than saliva dripping from his lips. A drop of blood is staining into the rest of the liquid. Just as the story started, the girl gets her finish with a reminder of Jashin, of the blessings he bestows. He laps it up, long and slow to savor the taste. To show her how good it is to be in his position.

But a good girl still needs a break before it’s the old man’s turn.

She gets to soak in the hot spring and watch as Hidan decides to finish, next, what she had started, holding his partner's dick like that, getting him nice and hard with nowhere to go. She holds around Kakuzu as he pulsates and moans, and he stretches one arm and pulls her in to brace himself. She whispers to him that it's okay, she likes him holding her tight. The rag doll, with that permission leans his full weight, cheek pressed against her head as he uses his other hand to grip Hidan by the hair as he so wonderfully sucks him dry. Kakuzu worships no god, but he can see the appeal in having a goddess. A goddess and her dutiful priest with a big mouth to shut up.

He can at least understand now...what makes someone worship something outside of themselves.

An exhale and the woman is there to feel his entire body relax. Silver locks drip as they emerge from the surface, a lingering kiss on Kakuzu's jaw and Hidan inhales deep, catching his breath, and wraps around him and his angel, legs and arms and all. His nose finds home in the other side of her, so she is so warmly, snugly flanked by two S-rank missing-nins who will never let her go.

Three of the undead, three who by fate...or luck...or whatever the hell makes life work...ending up like this, together. Fucked up, fucking, and fucked. Sensations unending at least until it’s time to go, lest the others wonder where they ran off to.

But not just yet.

If anyone asks, though? They have two zombies to get through. That assurance alone...helps their treasure feel safe.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It’s been a long time since Kakuzu first thought of the world in blues and yellows. Together, they make the color of money— at least that of most nations. Fortune. And, of course, the word “fortune” leads to the word “treasure.” He doesn’t believe in fate— not really— but it amuses his otherwise cold, hardened soul to see the connection to the woman he named, however unintentional. So why is he thinking of her? Well, it’s hard not to— not when the piano is drifting back and forth in a jazzy flit, somehow both purposeful and ditsy.

...That’s a good description for her, he thinks. He smiles ever so slightly, feeling the stitches upon his cheeks bend with the twitch of his lips.

An open book in his hand, a man has let his hair down and leans over the edge of the couch of the library. He can barely hear her as she plays in the music room, the soundtrack to his increasingly ironic and bizarre life as a man made for murder begins to enjoy letting his skills waste away. There’s a mental note that if anyone besides him dares to joke he’s in retirement, he’d kill them. He's already far too comfortable, mask pulled down and cloak unbuttoned, red clouds draping over him more like a housecoat or a robe.

Lookin' up at a yellow girl

...Yes, he agrees as the woman croons. Yellow is a good color for a soul like hers…especially in these days where the sun seems farther away. Bright...happy...and silly. Same color as the childish nickname she chose for herself.

…

The old man huffs at his own musings. It’s just useless nonsense, mulling over ideas such as souls having color and him having a predestined fate. But one silly thought easily brings a cascade of others. Especially when the words on the page, no matter historical relevance, sort of go along. Kakuzu feels the leathery texture of his toughened skin as he idly bites his thumb, now distracted once again by the bullshit he's reading. Not the actual words, no, but rather what they describe:

Marriage and courting rituals...pheh. A man like him would never have use for those. Not anymore. Kakuzu would ever...— wait.

She won't cut me free

Kakuzu silently loses his breath. For yet another time, this girl is capable of making him feel things he never imagined he’d harbor again. What is it this go around?

Of her vanilla curls

And the rest of this song she started begins to fade as a realization echos— louder...and louder...and louder, and louder, and LOUDER– until a quiet truth becomes a screeching announcement. This emotion he feels is, undoubtedly…

Embarrassment.

“GODDAMMIT!!!”

Someone his age shouldn’t be so flustered, but yet again...someone his age should know better. His fist slams against the coffee table, envigored with the rage he feels against himself for being such a fucking idiot, imbecile, pig. A face split in black and white stares from the doorway, and he begins to have second thoughts.

“I’ll...talk to you later,” White Zetsu mutters before the amalgamate sinks into the floor, lest he incur the wrath of a fellow too old-school for his good, someone who has realized he’s seduced a poor, naive woman without so much as half-assing an attempt at proper courting. He can’t believe it. Kakuzu cannot believe it.

And sweet yellow soul she is, the performer has nary said a word against such misdeeds.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“We need to talk,” Kakuzu growls.

Hidan is, perhaps, exemplary of everything Kakuzu thinks of him right now— ignorant and perpetually covered in viscera. Drops of red drip onto the snow, almost like trickles of a melting icicle, except instead of an icicle it is Hidan that is hanging from the tree. Upside down by the knees, to be precise, and with that baton of his struck through his middle. His partner is willing to overlook that, so long as Hidan will listen.

“Eh?!” The younger immortal does his best to glance behind himself, as the way he dangles puts Kakuzu facing his back. “I came all the way out here to be ALONE and you really think it’s the best time to talk to me, huh…?” But it’s never a good time for Kakuzu to interrupt a ritual, really, shared love or no. In fact, the mention of it is about to make the bounty hunter’s blood boil just a little bit more:

“You still soft for me, old man?” the younger guy teases.

Kakuzu’s eyes pop just a little bit wider. “Hidan, take me seriously.”

“I am, I am!” With a grunt, the priest gives a few final words to his lord before the piercing stick is yanked out of his chest same way you’d take off a bandaid— quickly, lest you hesitate and make it hurt worse. He spits reflexively as the red stuff falls off of his chest and into his mouth, but he quickly swears under his breath an apology and makes sure to taste it, so as to not let good holy blood go to waste. “Geez…” Hidan mumbles afterward, then easily flipping onto his feet so as to stand to attention, however lackadaisical. “You make this sound like a big deal!”

“It is.”

“Then?” Hidan responds, voice getting louder with impatience. “What is it?!” He’s starting to get antsy now, widening his stance and looking side to side. “What, is she gone again?! Is she—?!”

“NO!” Kakuzu interrupts, feeling the heat of his face tenfold with the mask encapsulating it close to his skin; he doesn't remember pulling it back up. Finally having the silver haired demon’s attention fixed on him isn’t helping. “We…” the taki-nin attempts. Take one fails.

…

“We never.”

…

Take two fails.

“Hmmm?” The shirtless man groans, raising a brow. “Come on, man, it’s COLD out here!”

…

He doesn't even try for take three.

“Kakuzu, you’re freaking me OUT...!” he urges.

But Kakuzu is embarrassed now. And that isn’t something he’s had to train for, not since the shame was beaten out of him and he ran away from it all decades and decades ago. That’s kind of the whole problem, isn’t it? Getting caught up in these...emotions he’s not used to...before thinking what to do and say. Yes. That’s exactly how this situation came to be:

“We...never courted her.” It’s said now less like the urgent realization he initially had and more like it’s an admission of guilt. Hidan, however, just gets more confused.

“...Hell you on about?”

“Don’t be thick-headed,” Kakuzu scolds quickly, gaze firm and narrowing. “Don't you know how it looks?”

…Take one of explaining this to Hidan fails.

“How it must feel?”

…Take two.

“Hidan.”

“What!”

“Hidan, we— we DID that to her without so much as—” It’s too much, and he spins around, hiding as well as he can from judging eyes. “Dammit...”

“Kakuzu…?!”

“...She deserves better,” the masked man admits quietly. “That’s all.”

This leaves the reaper in quite the predicament. A second ago, everything was right as rain— well, besides the shit-ass cold battling against restless urges. What is it called...cabin fever? Yeah, that. But that’s a HIM problem. The performer… Hasn’t she been doing just fine…? “I didn’t—” the younger man stammers. “Realize we did anything wrong.” A glance to the side. “Besides. You know.” The stabbing thing.

“I know. But...we did.”

“But she never said anything was wrong,” the reaper objects. “She likes us! ...Right?”

“That doesn’t mean it is right.”

“Who cares!”

“I CARE! In this wretched world, we’re all she has. Can’t you see?!”

“Well, you never courted me!”

Just as Hidan comes around to Kakuzu’s shoulder, the old man twists away again, unwilling to make eye contact while talking about such indecent things. It’s clear Hidan is saying this to diffuse him a bit, and so he’s trying to keep his fists to himself, unlike the innocent table he smashed. “Shut UP.”

The Jashinist gestures with palms up, both beseeching and to convey a lack of anger— a safety net for his partner to continue, to talk about what the fuck they even are now. "Just sayin’!”

...But that doesn’t work. Kakuzu has nothing more to say. Not until he clears his hearts, a job five-fold more than the average lovestruck fool.

What comes, instead, is a strange, somber silence. Hidan up until now thought he had done everything a good man could to honor a good woman— that is, to say, not kill her and make her orgasm until her brain explodes. He never got a courting either, after all, and Kakuzu was more than happy to get it on with them both. Modern days didn’t need stupid old rituals like that; he thought his partner understood! With the reveal that Kakuzu is an old fart in more ways than just his age, the literal bleeding-heart yu-nin frowns and curls his brow. Hidan doesn’t quite have the vocabulary to explain his discomfort yet; in that department, Kakuzu is ahead. Still barely able to speak on it, but ahead nonetheless and therefore leading the way.

And the way to go is starting to look a little bit like ruin.

Kakuzu finally, barely looks over his shoulder. The sliver visible of his bi-colored eye carries a bizarre kind of tender shame. “Do whatever you want,” he tells Hidan, fed up. And then he makes himself a promise: “I’ll figure it out.”

And just like that, one perturbed man leaves another in his wake, a religious immortal standing in his blood-stained snow and wondering what it’s all for. Ah Jashin...why’d you do this to him?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It is awfully convenient that other people are occupying the traveler while her first immortal loves take some time to recollect— that she has distractions as they’re all trapped together in this hell house frozen in time.

Kakuzu, meanwhile, is in a pickle. It’s winter. Full-blown ice and snow. What does the girl like? Flowers! What’s dead in the winter? Flowers! He’s pacing back and forth in this tiny room, hand holding his chin, a small fish in a tank staring as dumbly as the bounty hunter feels. A sudden twitch of the animal is all it takes for Kakuzu to reflexively swing around and glare at it—

...Bubble, bubble. Round, black eyes and a puff of its scaled “lips” are all he gets. He exhales...and begins to close his eyes.

…

”Hm?”

Just as he’s nearly shut his lids, the narrowed vision makes him notice the reflection upon the glass tank— by other glass, to be more precise. A turn of his covered head and Kakuzu sees the culprit. A dainty vase with forgotten flowers. They don’t look like the roses from her garden— it’s hard to tell since they’re so old and dry, but the shapes make it clear enough. His mouth purses behind his mask. This will have to do. It is better than nothing.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Take one.

“Takara.”

She looks up at him, blinking so softly, as she always does. Something curdles in all five of his hearts at the prospect, but he does what a man needs to do anyways:

A hand weathered with scars of war rises up, a delicate dried flower held by the stem given as an offering. It is beheld a moment before she knows what to say.

“Hydrangeas!” she recognizes, sitting straight up and eyes widening so as to twinkle with more stars. Kakuzu is more than ready to let it slip from his fingers into hers, happy to be able to clench his fist with full frustrated strength once more at his side. She coos so thoughtfully, a fingertip brushing the edges of petals much like one may comb the hair of a doll.

“I had forgotten about these…” she recalls. The smile on her face is beautiful, and he finally feels some semblance of relief— “I gave them to Kisame, I think. There was a hydrangea festival...”

Oh.

“K...Kakuzu?” But he has turned around and walked away, off to find another solution to this problem he’s created, one that does not remind her of another man. Unknowing of his struggle, the woman gets a sinking feeling in her chest.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Take two.

“We’re going for a walk.”

It’s about an hour or so later that the old loverboy comes up with his second idea worth trying. His subject of experimentation looks back and forth between him and the outside, the crusted frost on the window and the world beyond. “Oh,” she stalls, politely as she can. “Um.”

There’s such intensity in his gaze that he can’t hide. No matter what she feels, the performer decides reluctantly, it is something important to him. That’s enough reason to abide, enough to swallow her reflexive alarm and follow where he lead. She could do it before for Sasori, and she can do it again.

“...Okay,” the traveler finally concedes, a worried look on her face. “Let me...get my cape.”

Out one person goes and in comes another, an already tall person with likewise tall hair having to duck to enter through the doorway. He grunts with a smirk, having caught the tail end of their conversation. “Ah. Where are you two going in such a hurry…?”

“Out,” is the simple answer the shark gets. Kakuzu isn’t prepared for the sort of expression Kisame makes to that.

“Is it for...a reason?”

Kakuzu narrows his eyes, already having disdain for this shark today. “No.”

Kisame blinks, smile lost and triangle teeth exposed instead with a skeptical frown. He looks outside. Snowflakes are falling, big and puffy and soft— idyllic, really. It’s perfect for a day of staying in. That’s not the plan, however.

“Don’t tell her I told you…” Kisame warns, still concentrated on the white ice, feeling in his gut how it could feel. “...But she told me the winter makes her...uncomfortable.” No, he won’t use her precise, damning words, just enough so his coworker gets the idea. “She won’t enjoy it. Just be prepared.”

And it’s just about then that the woman of the hour steps in again, winter cape over her shoulders and a brave grin on her face that doesn’t cover up the worry in her eyes. A brief stare is all it takes for Kakuzu to break.

“Never mind.”

And once again, he walks away.

Mouth agape, the performer doesn’t know what to say or think until he’s already out of sight. She looks back and forth between the space where Kakuzu was and where Kisame is now, sputtering noises that don’t quite make words but still convey her great dismay. The sort of blighted heartbreak upon her face isn’t something Kisame was prepared to see, and likewise he doesn’t know what the hell that was all about.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Did I do something to make Kakuzu mad?” she whispers, but the only one who would be listening in is the one she’s intending to hear her now. That’s the whole point, really; if someone would know, no matter how wary she is of him, it’d be this guy. Zetsu watches as she rubs a tear from her eye, perhaps predictably having mixed feelings on the matter. On one hand, it is oh so fun to see such fantastic failure. One after the other after the other, attempts for something ridiculous that do not need to happen falling to the wayside with misunderstandings. But on the other hand…

She sniffles as the teardrops keep coming, despite her best efforts. The visible half of his face frowns.

...It never feels as good as he thinks it will to see his little ghost upset.

“He is attempting to court you, I believe,” the sweeter voice ultimately explains. The deeper one adds in: “Whatever that means to him.” And sweet again: “I presume he’s failing at it marvelously.”

The direction of her gaze staggers up, almost doing a double-take like a cartoon, as she raises her head to look at the amalgamate in surprise. “He’s...what?!”

“Courting you,” he repeats. “Those are the words he used.” Green hair shifts ever so slightly as Zetsu’s head tilts so the paler side is closer to his shoulder. “Do you feel courted?”

She squints. She squints so hard you can barely tell she has eyes. Zetsu makes note that this is not how you court people, then. With the answer obvious and the nuances of her confusion lost, the lighter voice continues. “So if he’s failing...what then? I’m curious now… Are you going to accept his failure?”

…

Her expression softens. She knows what to do. Even if she doesn’t get why, it’s going to be done. Zetsu will witness how to properly court someone after all.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Take three.

The only proper time to do this is the middle of the night, so that’s step one. A knock on his door— that’s step two— and it’s been just long enough since she did this last that he doesn’t expect it to be a strange woman in front of him, even if it has been every time before. Despite their intimate history, he feels naked like this, even if it’s only his face and chest that are bare, and Kakuzu’s gemstone eyes widen. A girl, dressed like the royalty she is before the likes of him— full length dress, lacy cape— reaches forward with a gloved hand, one so petite next to someone like him. She learned from his reaction before; the flower of choice this time is one of her long-dead roses, nothing obviously attached in sentiment to someone else. Stupefied, the man takes it.

“Get dressed!” she whispers, leaning in and excitement like electricity on her tongue. “And meet me at the front porch!”

And it’s her turn now to leave before someone else gives the final word on the matter.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Kakuzu arrives as commanded, buttoning up his cloak as he cracks open the front door and feels the cold air seep in. She’s standing at the base of the stairs— hard to tell, the snow is so tall that it matches the height of the last step. At sight of him, she hops with joy, clutching one hand to her chest while another reaches out to him. There are snowflakes in her hair, dappling it like crystal-ended hairpins. Baffled, Kakuzu mutters the secret he knows only once he’s close enough to take it.

“Don’t you hate being out when it's winter?” he asks. But she just takes his hand and smiles.

“Not tonight. Not when it’s with you.”

And as they did back in the summer, a man and a woman run off together in the middle of the night. His pulse races stronger than any other person’s could, and the way she looks over her shoulder and back to him makes him feel…

…

It makes him feel...young.

Is that bad?

As before, as he predicted, they forge ahead until they reach their seat on the cliff again, overlooking the lake transformed by the passing seasons. The frogs and toads hibernate under the frosted mud, and the top of the water is iced over like a mirror. The moon and sparse clouds drift both above in the sky and below under their feet. The world is quiet here. No amphibians singing, no rustling of leaves. It is dead silence besides the crunching of snow as they crouch down and any noise these two human beings make themselves. Despite how the winter scares her, at least it can give her that politeness.

Finally alone in the way she wants them to be, she turns her head to him as she catches her foggy breath and smiles proudly.

“Why are you doing this?” he asks.

“I heard...you wanted to court me.” And bafflingly, she adds: “So I decided to court you!”

Kakuzu grunts loudly, physically recoiling back to get a better look at her face. Did he hear her right?! No, he did. “That’s— that’s not how it works,” he stammers, fiery cheeks fighting the cold air as he gets red beneath his face covering.

“Why not?”

“Simple: you’re the woman, and I’m the man. It is MY responsibility. It is MY job to...to…”

...She lets him try to think it out.

“...To make up...for everything.”

...

A statement like that is hard to ignore.“...What do you mean?”

“I love you,” he admits, as he does once in a blue moon. “That’s why...I…”

She tilts his head, starting to catch on. “You feel bad?” the traveler prods, gently as she can. “Like...you have to trade actions for the ones we already did?”

The questioning murmur he makes lets her know she needs to explain.

“You know...you don’t have to earn anything. You already did. You told me you loved me. Before, I mean. And...I consented to being sexual with you.” His expression changes as she finally says the unspoken— the sex. She shrugs. “That’s enough. ...Honestly never thought I'd even get that far,” she admits under her breath.

“It isn’t.” Even if he isn’t sure of everything, that’s one thing Kakuzu knows. She’s not a paid worker, not a passing fling; he wouldn’t give a shit, then. She...is different. Intentional. Long term, even. That makes the requirements so much more. He has no idea what her culture is like and what she needs and what HE needs, and…—

His head is spinning. But he still knows:

“You’re worth...more.”

“I am?”

“You are.”

And in spite of how he feels about it, that means more to her than anything he else he could give. A hand is put over his, and she nudges just a bit closer to the man by her side. “...Will you tell me how?”

“You’re worth all the nonsense. All the back and forth, the dumb damn game men and women play to get to...where we’ve gone. You’re not a one night stand. I don’t...want you to feel like one.”

The palm on his begins to squeeze.

“That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

He doesn’t answer. Under the moonlight, he could have done anything. He could have been a jerk, a thief, a murderer. He’s all of those things. Do you know how when artists want to convince you something is pure white, they tinge it blue? Kakuzu has a blue soul to oppose her yellow, to match the particles that line the leaf-stripped branches and dust the rocks on the side of a forgotten winter pond.

And then her other hand pulls his mask down.

“I want to make you feel that way, too,” she whispers. The naughtiness finally gets him to crack a smile, through his guilty, angry veneer and the bitter cold that seeps through his stitches and lays onto his sinful tongue.

“Silly.”

“And you love it.”

“Don’t push your luck.”

“Oh yeah?”

And now the glove of a lady does something unmistakable: like a prince, she picks up his hand, raises the back of it to her lips, and then presses— barely, she presses— a kiss onto his ring. Despite it all— despite everything from before— this is somehow the most tender, romantic, and enticing thing that has ever happened to Kakuzu in his whole long life. He always assumed he wasn’t the lovey-dovey type, the kind that gets lightheaded and numb and irrational. Maybe he just isn’t as experienced as he thought he was. Goddammit.

“And I’ll do this every night until I’ve earned a kiss on your lips,” she promises, eyes level with his knuckles peering all the way up to his.

Okay, that’s quite enough. “Takara.”

“Yes, sir?” she teases in the way only she is allowed to.

With every ounce of his body, he exhales. It breathes her stupid goddamn nickname that makes her happy and makes him want to hide his face. It means he will concede:

“Duckling.”

There’s a reason he’s so bad at courting. It’s because he doesn’t like it. Never imagined himself doing it even as a young boy, and if he did it ended with a shiver and a bad taste in his mouth. So thankfully, that means the woman won’t have to play this game to kiss him on the lips. She’s going to get it right now.

...And if it wasn’t for the freezing snow pillowing them and all these layers of clothes to fumble through, Kakuzu would consider her getting a whole lot more. Too soon, though. Maybe later. Maybe later…

For now, the taste of her is enough as cloth-covered fingers trace over his stitches and the chilled wind combs starlight and frozen diamonds through his silky, dark brown hair that she's reached around and untied. They both think— individually, mind you, though a pact all the same— that they don’t deserve one another.