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frozs · 7 years ago

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Hidan and Kakuzu (And Sasori and Deidara) are 50 Shades of Fucked Up

Part 3 of the Kakuzu and Hidan are very Australian dickheads series

Trigger warnings: BDSM... accidental self harm… amputees… Woolworths… vegan!Sasori…

The first shitty bit: Kakuzu is a Doctor and Hidan is a massive massive scab

The next shitty bit: Kakuzu is a Commonwealth Bank Manager and Hidan is on Centrelink

@syndellwins @ayyyez @reapersperdition

The third shitty bit:

Kakuzu hadn’t seen Hidan much for several months. After the fiasco of putting the wrong bin in the cemetery, they had driven over the speed limit to get home as fast as possible and dump the correct bin somewhere - Kakuzu got a fine which he made Hidan pay for out of his Newstart allowance. Hidan’s Newstart allowance was $575.75, and the fine was $573.50 so that left Hidan with $2 to spend on whatever the fuck he wanted.

Because Hidan had stopped fucking annoying him every week or so with his stupid religion and endless baby lamb sacrifices (and occasional human murder) Kakuzu’s life was going pretty well. He picked up more shifts at the bank. He didn’t get pissed off enough to kill anybody. He got up every morning, fed the dog, went to work, came home, walked the dog, fed the dog, watched an episode of Grey’s Anatomy, read a book, then went to sleep. Rinse and repeat until the weekend.

On Sunday afternoon, the shops were to close at 6.30pm. Kakuzu didn’t feel like having canned tuna and rice, so he tied his dog outside the local Woolworths and went inside to get a nice wine from BWS, some things for lunch during the week and some sushi rolls.

Unfortunately this was where his respite ended. Grabbing a sourdough, brie, tomatoes and sardines, along with the sushi, then noticing his favourite ice cream was on special for $7.99 instead of $10.99, he wandered off to the self serve checkouts.

Kakuzu exclusively used self serve checkouts because of the lack of social interaction needed from them. He glowered at the lady who cheerfully sent him to the free checkout (as if he didn’t have fucking eyes).

“...If you fold the note like this, it will jam the machine, yeah…”

Kakuzu froze. He knew that voice. Very, very slowly, as he didn’t want them to see, he turned to look at the opposite checkout.

Two idiots in hoodies, and he recognised the dark red one.

That was his red hoodie. There, with three bags of shopping was Hidan The Scab and Deidara… the amputee.

He hadn’t seen Deidara since he blew his arm off in an explosion by accident around six months ago. He could see the stump of his left arm which cut off just below the elbow. He’d put a rubber band around the jumper so that it didn’t flop everywhere. However, next to him -

There was a rip in his hoodie where Hidan had obviously done something stupid - he knew Hidan had it, but he wasn’t expecting him to be wearing it.

He watched as Hidan put the $20 note in, and the soft female voice of the self service machine suddenly said, “ Please wait, for assistance… “

It then made a gurgling noise and the self service assistant came over and announced there was a jam inside.

The compartment down below had to be opened with a key, and Kakuzu saw Deidara’s intact arm slowly take a green bag of coins and cash while Hidan talked to the assistant about how fucking stupid Deidara was to put a note in like that even though he couldn’t exactly smooth it out anyway because he had one fucking hand.

Kakuzu put his hoodie up, pretending not to see them stealing cash, and headed outside to get some wine. But stopped dead when he saw who was next to Taki, his dog, who had been stolen from its owner by Hidan several years ago. Usually, he would see kids cooing over him, but not today.

Sasori was squatting down and patting Taki. His eyes slid languidly over to Kakuzu, before his head turned ever so slowly, then jerked, almost like a robot.

“It is almost strange to be patting a dog that is alive.” Sasori remarked, with that weird monotone voice of his. Ugh. Kakuzu had forgotten how creepy Sasori was. In fact, Kakuzu didn’t even know if Sasori was alive anyway; he lurched about almost like a puppet on strings. He was the third person that lived in the two bedroom ground floor unit that Deidara and Hidan occupied, and worked as a taxidermist. “Hidan and Deidara are inside getting their rent.”

“You mean stealing from the self service machine?” Kakuzu raised his eyebrows.

“Hmm…” Sasori contemplated it for a moment, then shrugged. “Free money.”

“Still, it’s stealing.”

“One’s soul remains in one’s creations,” Sasori said suddenly.

Riiight.

‘I’m going now,” Kakuzu said quickly, taking the leash, but Sasori the fucking weirdo had already pointed at Hidan and Deidara coming out from behind BWS. Now his perfect day off work had been ruined by seeing the three idiots who lived in the derro suburb over from him.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s Kakuzu,” came Hidan’s cheerful tone. He clapped Kakuzu on the back as hard as he could, enough to bruise. He tried to rhyme ‘hey’ and ‘Kakuzu’ to try and pronounce it as “Kaka-Zeh” and failed.“Long time no see, cuntbag.”

“...” He wanted to go home now.

“You’re late,” said Sasori.

“Yeah, uh, sorry…” Deidara tugged the rubber band off his arm and pulled out several bags of coins and notes. They had several shopping bags with them, in which no doubt most of the food had not been paid for.

“That’s my jumper,” Kakuzu said to Hidan.

“Well, I was cold,” Hidan said, getting out a lighter to help Deidara light up a smoke as he couldn’t do it himself. “You never noticed I took it.”

“Because you have it,” Kakuzu countered.

“Yeah, sorry,” he didn’t sound very sorry at all. Hidan peered at the bags. “Why do we have all this shit, yeah? We don’t eat-” He looked at a packet of something yellow, which had the barcode scraped off. “Semolina. Isn’t that a girl’s name?”

“It’s mine,” said Sasori. “I eat it.”

“This shit? Fucking gross. You’re like, level 5 vegan now? Eat piss-coloured powder because it ain’t got a shadow?”

Sasori didn’t reply. “...Why do we have so much food?”

“We got stuff to put in our freezer, yeah,” said Deidara. “We never use it. We need it for my birthday. I can’t afford to just order food for everyone.”

Kakuzu wanted to point out that it was probably never used because the three of them had no clue about cooking whatsoever. Deidara and Hidan lived on a rotation of Domino’s, Maccas, KFC and Hungry Jacks. Sasori ate oven roasted vegetables all day.

Hidan paused. “...Stupid Fucking Housemate, why is it going in the freezer?” he said, quietly. Kakuzu stopped and glanced at him. With that tone of voice, it meant he was hiding something. He narrowed his eyes. “You don’t use the freezer.” Hidan took Taki’s leash off the pole.

“I’m going to now, yeah…”

“Can I have my dog back - ” Kakuzu started to say, but the three of them had already started walking home. He wandered after them, his cloth reusable bag in one hand and one of their bags of stolen groceries in the other.

After wrestling Taki away from Hidan and making him go with Deidara and Sasori, Kakuzu took a shower when he got home. Too much goddamn Lynx later, he left the steamy room with his shaving set to put away in a seperate dry space, when he heard his television on downstairs. He lived in a townhouse and could sometimes hear Peppa Pig blaring through his unvaccinated neighbours walls which made him angry because he wanted his peace and quiet.

He instantly knew it was Hidan. Watching Getaway on Channel Nine. No matter how many times Kakuzu took his key off Hidan, he always seemed to have another one lying around.

“What are you doing here?” He tied his dressing gown a little tighter, and flipped his braid over his shoulder.

“Because I want to be here.” Hidan didn’t turn around. He had Taki curled into his right side, and he was flipping the remote with his left hand. He switched channels.

Kakuzu glared. There had to be a reason for Hidan to be here. He didn’t seem to turn up without a reason. Usually the reason, if there was one, would be for dropping off evidence of murder. Kakuzu wasn’t a very good entertainer, and Hidan knew that.

‘No, what are you really doing here?” he repeated.

Hidan looked over. “...Hanging out with your dog?”

Kakuzu sighed, and noticed Hidan had also taken out his Connoisseur ice cream and had eaten most of it. Or given most of it to the dog maybe? He snatched the ice cream away from his cold hands because it cost $7.99 and he actually wanted it, and-

“Don’t open-” Hidan started to say, but Kakuzu opened the freezer to find an arm inside.

A real human arm.

He shut the freezer with a snap. “What the HELL ?”

“I found the arm okay, don’t be a bitch about it.”

“What, on the fucking footpath ?” Kakuzu almost bellowed at him, opening the freezer again and grabbing the arm. Hidan leapt off the sofa and came into the kitchen.

“Can’t you tell whose arm it is?” He snatched it away from Kakuzu and waved it around like a sword. The plastic wrap crackled, and small shards of ice fell on Kakuzu’s feet. “Yes, it was on the fucking footpath. No joke.”

Hidan wasn’t a liar. But he was however outrageous enough to find himself in stupid situations like this.

There was only one person he knew who didn’t have an arm. He looked slowly from the black nail polish on the fingers to the palm, which had a distinctive hipster mouth tattoo.

He grunted. “Deidara’s.” He paused. “So why have you got it?”

“Well, it’s for his birthday,” said Hidan. “Like, a present. I’ve been waiting until his birthday to give it back. It’s been in the freezer for a long time. I had to move it before he opened the freezer door.” He sighed. “I found it outside after the ambulance left on the footpath, and I kept it, but now he’s going to use the freezer… so I better fucking hide it.” He poked the frozen limb at Kakuzu's face.

Kakuzu didn’t appreciate having an actual human arm in his freezer. Or a frozen finger on his cheek. He pulled the arm out the way. He noticed the squished ants on the fingers.

“Pleeeeeeease let me keep it in there until his birthday.”

“And when's that?”

“Friday.”

Kakuzu didn’t answer. Hidan side stepped him, making sure Deidara’s hand slightly touched his face, put it back in and closed the freezer door.

That night Kakuzu dreamed of cold blackened fingers being stuffed up his nose by maniac silver-haired shitheads.

Kakuzu was a very grouchy man, who did not appreciate a phone call from Sasori on Tuesday night saying that Hidan had gone mad again and should really be in the loony bin.

Kakuzu was going to have an early night, as he needed to open the bank the next morning. Just as he turned his lamp off his phone went off. Kakuzu squinted at the screen as it rang. He wasn’t too good with touchscreen bullshitty-technology but he knew he needed it to put his banking apps on there. When he first got it he thought the App Store was actually shorthand for the Apple Store at the mall - he slowly swiped his forefinger to the right.

“What do you want?”

“He’s not waking up,” Sasori obviously meant Hidan. “He’s done something stupid, again.”

Kakuzu rolled his eyes. “I’ll come over.”

He took Taki with him.

Sasori ate what seemed to be a vegetable and pasta only diet - “Animals should be eternal, for their souls can be enshrined forever without being killed for their decaying meat,” he told Kakuzu once dully. That didn’t make sense to him, but it made sense to Sasori, perhaps because was a taxidermist, who ate as nutritious and cheap as possible so he would live forever. Unlike Deidara or Hidan, who were most likely to die of blood loss by the age of thirty.

Sasori worked most nights at his taxidermy workshop in a local artist studio facility, which was mostly studios for painters, ceramists and jewellers. Kakuzu barely saw him when he had to do something like drop Hidan off at their little unit after he’d come round to scab something, but when he did see Sasori, there were dark circles under his eyes as if he was dead, like the animals he stuffed. For some reason Hidan took great pleasure in poking fun at Sasori’s diet even though Hidan ate nothing but junk food.

Sasori had a bowl of microwaved spinach and broccoli in his hand when he saw Kakuzu coming up the yard. He was putting one of those little fish soy sauce plastic things in the bowl when Kakuzu banged on the flyscreen. His cold eyes glinted and went to the couch.

Lying there was an unconscious Hidan, who had managed to bang his head on something and passed out, looking like a murder victim. It almost resembled something Hidan would have done to someone else, but the other way round.

“...Self harming?” Kakuzu looked at his wrists which were dark and bloody and leaking slowly, or alternatively had started clotting over; he could see a bit of sinew in between the skin cuts. Hidan was only wearing ripped up jeans and was breathing slowly, so he didn’t need to check the carotid artery. He hadn’t hit any arteries, or else they would have had no choice but to call an ambulance for him. Kakuzu could see he had carved the Jashin symbol into his chest, arms and abdomen with a compass, that was now lying on the floor. Taki made a nervous noise, seeing his favourite person in the world not responding to Deidara throwing insults in his face.

“He’s not depressed enough to self harm, he’s just a moron.” Deidara was sitting at the end of the futon and poked him with a plastic prosthesis that had a clay cutter taped to the end of it. He was covered in filth, with brown clay smeared all over his face and blond hair. Kakuzu could smell the petrichor and dirt on him. “He carved his weird religious shit into his body and hit his head on the bookshelf when he tried to get up. Passed out, yeah.”

The futon was soaked with blood.

“He could have at least put a towel down. You used to be a fucking doctor, can’t you do something, yeah?”

“For Hidan, who thinks he’s some sort of immortal idiot? I could do something…” Kakuzu drawled, “but I don’t want to.”

“I thought you were…” Deidara paused, struggling to find the word.

“Friends?”

“Oh, god no. Like… acquaintances?” he suggested. “You don’t look like the sort of person to do friends, yeah. Master Sasori called you because you’re the only one that can control him and make him almost stop doing stupid shit.”

“We could put him outside, he can be eaten by the ants,” said Sasori.

“No, you can’t put him outside with my clay creations, I need those for work. He sleeps on that futon, too - no way you can get blood outta that shit now.”

“How long has he been out for?” Kakuzu was expecting Hidan to leapt and shout APRIL FOOLS… but no. He sniffed the air; it smelled like a clean bathroom, strangely, instead of an abattoir.

“Like, an hour?”

“After four minutes of unconsciousness an ambulance should be called.”

“None of us have ambulance cover,” Deidara pointed out. “He’s fucked himself over so many times he’s bound to die sometime anyway.”

“He’s ‘immortal’, remember?” said Sasori, almost sarcastically, which Kakuzu figured must have taken a lot of effort for him to convey any emotion.

“Great,” Kakuzu muttered under his breath. He bent down on one knee to look under the futon, where Hidan usually stored (stuffed) his clothes. He reached underneath and felt something lukewarm and pulled it out. They were several candles from Dusk, which was where the sweet smell had been coming from. “He’s done a stupid ritual, again . We’ll take him outside.”

The only thing that the three of them who lived in this unit had in common was this weird obsession with death. Sasori, the taxidermist who spent his nights stuffing animals and putting glass eyes in clients’ lifeless chihuahuas, Deidara, with his (unregistered) fireworks and clay urn business and Hidan, who was just completely fucked in the head and believed that he would never, ever die.

And then there was Kakuzu, the random bank manager that Hidan seemed to be on friendly terms with and the only one that could control Hidan to a certain amount. Neither Sasori or Deidara could figure out why. They never realised that Kakuzu and Hidan’s hobby of killing people was the reason they put up with each other.

Sasori and Kakuzu carried him out to the back, with Deidara bitching about Hidan behind them. “Look, I told him not to write Jashin on the fucking council survey, and then he fucking did, yeah, because he’s a fucking idiot. Some government official came around and asked about it…”

They put the backyard light on, and the moths attacked it at once. Outside in their large backyard underneath the verandah were Deidara’s pots and clay animals he used to make urns. Instead of the usual plastic urns given to sad relatives of the deceased, Deidara’s works showed that you could be put into a pig, a bird, or anything you wanted. The storage tubs by the back door were full of powders and things for his fireworks. Brightly coloured cardboard boxes of fireworks smuggled from America were haphazardly stacked on top of the storage tubs. There was a marijuana plant used as a doorstop and next to that, a pottery wheel. Kakuzu hoped there were no brown snakes slithering around in the long grass.

Oil barrels were littered around the backyard which had burned things in them. The clothesline held one silver wine bag on a peg and the tin fence was falling over.

Deidara walked around the backyard, pulling the hose away from the weeds that had grown over it as Kakuzu and Sasori laid Hidan on the scratchy long grass.

“Wake the fuck up, yeah,” said Deidara, blasting cold water into Hidan’s face. “Jashin ain’t bringing you back this time.”

There was no response.

“I hope he’s dead.” said Sasori.

“Same, yeah.”

“He’s breathing,” said Kakuzu. “And what do you mean, Deidara, the council came around?”

“Well, you know when he does these stupid things, there’s several reasons,” said Deidara. He pointed the hose at Hidan’s chest, which washed the blood away.

Kakuzu could now clearly see the symbols Hidan had carved into himself, with faint purple rings around the circles and triangles. He’d know known the three of them for almost four years, and it had become a pattern: people did stupid things to Hidan, Hidan retaliated by doing even more stupid things.

Deidara was talking.

“...So the girl down the street invited him to a BDSM event for his birthday because she noticed he’s always got bruises and dried blood somewhere on his face, and she likes him and doesn’t mind him talking to her about his religion, yeah. She wears a cross necklace, so naturally Hidan got interested in chatting.”

Sasori snorted. “The longer I have lived here, the more atheist I have become, thanks to him.”

“Anyway, Hidan got heaps pissed off at her because he thought it meant bible discussion and study meeting when it fact it was the other BDSM. Ropes and shit, yeah. Ruined his night. Shouted shit about using her as a human sacrifice and she got upset.”

Sasori was nodding in agreement.

“Then he got more shitty because the council turned up yesterday, asking him about Jashinism and then they suggested he needed to see a doctor.”

“He said he already sees one.” said Sasori.

“Dr Fucking Kakuzu, look it up bitch,” Deidara recited, mimicking Hidan’s high-pitched shriek that was reserved for when he got agitated. He put the hose under his left arm and turned off the tap with his right. Kakuzu remembered that Deidara’s other arm was in the freezer at his place.

“...and then the last thing was that the Mormon Elders turned up today. The previous tenants at this place were Latter Day Saints, so they come around to check up and Hidan answered the door. He then went on and on about their American accents and what the fuck were they doing here, then said some shit about Jashin, and they got scared and rode away on their little bicycles. Then he told me that Jashin needed him to ‘cleanse’ his body from the sinning he had done just by talking to them and the girl from down the street and the council.”

“Loony bin,” said Sasori. “He needs to be checked out.”

“No, it’s you fucking idiots who need to be checked out…” They all looked down to see Taki licking Hidan’s face. He grumbled to himself softly, and his eyelids flickered. “‘Da fuck am I doing in the backyard?”

“He’s alive,” said Kakuzu. “Sasori, you didn’t have to come get me.”

Sasori shrugged. “Least we know our house isn’t a crime scene.”

“Use sparkling water and lemon juice to get the blood off the couch,” Kakuzu suggested.

“Uh, thanks?”

Hidan didn’t get up, and squinted above him. “Stupid Fucking Housemate… Other Stupid Fucking Housemate… Kakuzu?”

“You nearly died.” said Sasori.

Hidan let out a harsh laugh.

“Fuck you guys. Like a few tiny cuts would kill me.”

Some time later, about a day before it was time for Hidan to raid Kakuzu’s freezer for Deidara’s arm, Kakuzu got home from work only to find something red dripping from the ceiling onto his white carpet. His ladder was in the middle of the living room. On it stood Hidan, daubing the ceiling liberally with what had to be his own blood.

Kakuzu stared.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Hidan looked down at Kakuzu from his position on the ladder. He wasn’t holding a paint tin, but in fact, Kakuzu’s ice cream container, which meant he’d eaten it all and then added his own blood to it.

“Sacrificing you. I’m fucking restless for some good killing. Sit down, in the middle.” He pointed to just underneath the ladder, his hands stained red from smearing the ceiling. “I’ve got the spears ready.”

“Don’t tell me to sit down in my own house.”

Hidan swore it was because of Lord Jashin, his God - told him to sacrifice Kakuzu, in a dream that afternoon when he had a nap on the new secondhand settee he found on the street.

(Kakuzu even once curiously googled the name Jashin to find that Google said Did You Mean Lord Jesus ? - and found out nothing.)

“Even Taki’s agreeing that you need to be sacrificed.”

Kakuzu looked over at his dog who was sleeping on his cushion by his laptop bag. Taki was paying no attention to Hidan being a crazy motherfucker, but Kakuzu noticed that Hidan had put his pendant around his black curly fur.

“Taki is an honorary Jashinist. Worthy of God.”

Kakuzu looked down at the carpet. There was a large circle and a triangle on there that Hidan had used his foot to make with blood. His precious carpet that came free with his complimentary Ikea package for when he renovated his kitchen would now need a deep clean. He noticed the candles scattered around the circle, and the spears dipped in silver in a pile next to them. He felt a cold drip on his cheek, and looked up the ladder, where Hidan was concentrating on getting the triangle perfect with his bloody fingers.

A large bandage was on his wrist, where he’d reopened the wound he had inflicted on himself on Tuesday.

That was it.

Kakuzu didn’t want to be fucking sacrificed. He had better things to do. All he had wanted to do today was take a nap, walk the dog, feed the dog, watch an episode of Grey’s Anatomy, read a book, then go to sleep.

He kicked the ladder as hard as he could, so that Hidan went flying two metres to the floor. Kakuzu sidestepped the ladder as it fell onto the lounge, and Taki woke up with a fright. Hidan fell right into the triangle, trying to break his fall, but his head still hit the floor.. He was out cold.

Kakuzu decided to light the candles and leave him there. He went upstairs for his nap.

“You have to come.”

“No.”

“To wish Deidara a shitty birthday.”

“No.”

“Cause he’s 21.”

“No.”

“I need someone to film his face when I give him his arm back.”

“No.”

Friday night had come, and Hidan had upset the unvaccinated children who lived next door to Kakuzu by cheerfully showing them Deidara’s arm fresh from the freezer. Now he and Kakuzu were having a standoff at the door of Kakuzu’s townhouse.

Hidan had already taken his dog; in one hand he held the leash, and in the other hand, Deidara’s arm.

“Why would I be interested in a 21 year old’s stupid birthday?” Kakuzu snapped, about to close the door on him. Hidan could keep his damn dog for the night, just as long as he stopped annoying him and trying to make him even vaguely interested in someone else’s affairs.

“Because you don’t have a life except watching Grey’s Anatomy and siphoning money off old people wanting to buy investments.”

“You don’t even know what an investment is .”

“I know, and I don’t care,” Hidan said, brightly. Taki yipped in agreement. Kakuzu glared at his dog for taking Hidan’s side. “There’s free stuff at his birthday.”

Kakuzu looked slightly more interested in the word ‘free’. “Free, as in none of you paid for it?”

“Yeah, but free to eat now and shit out later. I won’t leave your house until you come.” Hidan rummaged in his jeans and showed him three copied keys for Kakuzu’s front door. He seemed to have a never-ending supply of Kakuzu’s keys.

It wasn’t like Kakuzu really liked watching Grey’s Anatomy anyway. “Fine.” He grunted. “I’ll be there for five minutes.”

“Ten.”

“Five.”

“Tenfive.”

“No, Hidan.”

Hidan placed the arm in a Woolworths shopping bag and Kakuzu followed him. Taki sniffed the footpath and walked in a zig zag, while Hidan had a one-sided conversation with Kakuzu who was not listening about several verses in The Sacred Writ of Jashin and how they correlated to several terrorist attacks in the 1980s. It didn’t make sense, of course, but did anything Hidan ever say make sense?

Probably not.

There wasn’t anyone there when they got to Hidan, Deidara and Sasori’s unit. “...Really?” said Kakuzu. “...Can I go home now?”

“Nobody comes to a fucking party when it starts,” Hidan kicked the door open with a screech to let Taki in first. He went and put the Woolworths bag down next to the unused dinner table, which had piles and piles of just general crap piled on it, as usual. What are you, 90? 91? They come two hours later, duh.”

“What am I doing here then?”

“House needs to be cleaned first.” Hidan kicked a few things out the way, as if that was going to make the house clean. “You need to show us how to clean it properly.”

“I am not your parent.”

“I never fucking had any anyway - pretty please, Kakuzu? Cherry on top?”

“I’ll pay you, yeah?” Deidara’s head poked out from the kitchen. He was wearing a Today I’m 5 badge, stuck to his crop top over which was a large black hoodie.

“At least one hundred and fifty.”

Deidara cringed. “Really, yeah?”

“I get paid that much an hour at the bank.”

Sasori was blankly staring at the wooden dishes, which filled the sink.

“You are all idiots,” said Kakuzu, grabbing the plates and putting them straight into the bin.

“Those are bamboo,” Sasori started. “We can reuse those, again and again-”

Hidan put his foot in the bin and stomped several times until there was the sound of splintering wood. “Not anymore, Other Stupid Fucking Housemate.”

Contrary to Kakuzu’s belief, the three of them did have basic housecleaning skills, but were just very lazy about it. Sasori mostly stared at Kakuzu with his spaced out expression when he tried to give basic instructions. He had to show Hidan that sweeping dust into a corner right into the cracks of the wall was not how to get rid of bits of stuff off the floor, and Deidara claimed he was too disabled to engage in anything and just watched. However, Hidan tried to clean the bathroom by mixing bleach and ammonia before Kakuzu noticed and made him go into the living room instead and shove all his things under the lounge and in the tv cabinet. He didn’t have that many belongings, Kakuzu noticed as the first people started to turn up. He assumed it was because he had wrecked or broken anything he laid his hands upon.

Several hours later, Kakuzu - somehow - was still at the party, feeling more introverted than ever. On his fourth glass of wine, he found that most of the people that turned up were in Deidara and Sasori’s artist circle - so he could talk to them about shortcuts to selling artworks as investments.

Hidan had made a fool of himself several times already - he’d licked Kakuzu’s face twice - then stabbed himself in the shoulder with his sacrificing spear and twisted it several times (“This is my party trick, watch, everyone!”) to prove pain could be turned into pleasure. Then, he told someone to fuck off when they told him they were going to be sick.

Kakuzu realised that Hidan was not great in any social situation - and it would have been better if he was doing a twelve hour prayer marathon locked away somewhere instead of ruining Deidara’s birthday. He approached Kakuzu and pointed his finger in his face.

“Hey. I lost the arm,” he spluttered, slurring his words. He prodded Kakuzu. “Jashin doesn’t want me giving it to Deidara just yet.”

“What?” Kakuzu turned away from two ceramists who had worked with Deidara in several exhibitions before. “How did you lose it? It should be in the Woolworths bag.”

“Dunno, damn.” He squinted at Kakuzu as if he had four eyes. “Y’know, what if I moved it? What if I did, but can’t remember, because I decided to try the alcohol? I’m pretty sure anything less than destruction is considered sin in Jashininsm, so why did I decide to have a few drinks?” He then grabbed Kakuzu and shook him roughly. “Oh my god WHY DIDN’T YOU STOP ME FROM SINNING?”

“Because you have no social skills, and maybe this would help?” Kakuzu suggested.

“...Hmmm…” Hidan said, looking at the ceiling. “Guess you are right.” He clapped him on the shoulder, and then kept looking up, with a smirk on his face. Kakuzu then looked up to see that Hidan… had drawn the exact same circle and triangle on the kitchen ceiling as he did in Kakuzu’s townhouse.

“Really, Hidan?”

He nodded. “They’re protected with God’s blessings.” He turned to Deidara’s friends. “I used my own-”

“His own paint,” Kakuzu interrupted. “Part of his religion.” Kakuzu still wasn’t sure if it was entirely in Hidan’s head, or an actual deity that only ever talked to Hidan.

The two people who had been talking to Kakuzu looked at each other and backed away from the kitchen looking entirely creeped out. But Hidan pointed at the kitchen floor where the Woolworths bag was supposed to be. “Where is it?”

Shit .

They went outside, and Kakuzu’s ears felt like they were briefly underwater from all the music that was blaring. The verandah smelt of weed, and in the middle of it all was Deidara, who had extremely bloodshot eyes and was showing off his little ceramic figures and trying to flog money for them. “Either you give me fifty bucks, or I’ll blow it up, yeah?”

There were a few murmurs and someone swapped a small bird with Deidara, and gave the money to Sasori. “Stupid Fucking Housemate, hey,” Hidan called out, elbowing several people out the way. “Have you seen a Woolworths bag?”

Deidara crossed his arms. Well, one and a half arms - “We have a million of the fucking things, are you after a particular one?”

“Did it have anything special in it?” asked Sasori, noticing Kakuzu’s staring at the colourful banknotes in his hand where Deidara had sold his clay figures.

“Yeah, his present.”

Deidara’s eyes narrowed. “A present, yeah?” He didn’t sound convinced.

“I can’t tell you what it is yet!” said Hidan. “I need to find it!”

“Let me guess, a set of knives to stab art critics, or…” said Sasori.

“Found it.” said Kakuzu, nodding towards the long grass.

“Oh thank fuck, where was it - ?”

Taki appeared, carrying Deidara’s arm in his mouth. He wagged his tail once, and deposited the arm right in front of Deidara, with the distinctive mouth tattoo up so Deidara would recognise it.

Silence.

“Happy fucking birthday!” Hidan cheered.

Deidara’s mouth was wide open, and still, nobody said anything.

“I can’t think of an amputee joke,” said Sasori, quietly. “But I guess I’m stumped.”

-- the fucking end --

#my fic #hidan #kakuzu #deidara #sasori #you may need urban dictionary #hidan's a moron #tw: self harm

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