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#underfellsans568
prussianknight9 · 7 years
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Hey kakuzu what do u do if hidan woke up crying from a nightmare?would you comfort him or no?
Choices
They had to leave at dawn, for their client’s ship pushed off the docks when the clock struck six. Their inn was close enough that the air tasted of salt and the gulls could be heard in the muffled distance. 
Kakuzu opened the metal briefcase. Under the dimness of a single incandescent bulb, he checked that all three scrolls were fastened and secure. After clicking the locks into place, he pasted a paper seal over each of them for extra precautions. 
He met Hidan down at the empty front yard. It had taken him five minutes longer and Kakuzu had been on the verge of marching back to pull the Jashinist out of bed himself, when a silver head poked out of the doors to the entrance. 
Hidan shot him a glare, as if he knew what he’d been about to do. They started on the road without exchanging a word, but Kakuzu didn’t need to hear his voice to know something wasn’t quite right. 
His usually pale face was gaunt, cheeks looking hollow in the first glow of daylight. The beginnings of purple shadows were smudged beneath his eyes. His lips were dry and cracked. 
Their client was waiting for them in the bathroom of a local gift shop down by the coast. They exchanged briefcases, and Kakuzu made sure the trade was fair by counting the money down to every last sum. After making sure the scrolls were safely boarded, for the contents within were strictly illegal and Kakuzu wasn’t about to rely on slack item checking, they began their trek back to base. During the entire exchange, Hidan didn’t speak a word. 
Their second mission was on the opposite side of the country atop a steep, crumbling mountain. Neither of them, despite their capabilities, had the desire to take the shortcut and scale the whole thing. 
“Stairs,” grunted Kakuzu after they circled the base for any alternative. They were roughly cut and uneven, but they were stable and held their weight, which was all that mattered. 
“You gotta be shitting me,” Hidan moaned. “Can you even see where it ends? No, we’re walking straight into Hell.”
“That’s the other way,” Kakuzu pointed out, glancing down at their feet. “Let’s go, we’re wasting time.”
“Fuck off,” Hidan snapped. “You’re not gonna hear the end of this.”
And it was true, for the Jashinist complained and griped the entire time. Kakuzu had to resort to fuming silently because one wrong move and they might both go tumbling and they’d have to start the climb all over again. 
 When the sun began to set behind them, they were about a third of the way up. There was no point in trying to feel their way up the precarious steps in the dark, so Kakuzu found stable ground not far from the path and settled there. It was a very narrow platform of stone and fallen wood, and they had to compress and stay absolutely still. Though autumn was around the corner, the days were still too warm for comfort. Kakuzu wondered if the stark movements made by taking off their cloaks were worth the risk of falling off the mountain and quite frankly, it wasn’t. He told Hidan so and they both fell silent against the fading light.
It was just before dawn when Kakuzu snapped awake. Decades of vigilance had taught his body to stir at the smallest of sounds. At first, the only things he could see were the shadows and outlines of trees and more trees, getting thinner at a steep decline below his feet. He felt Hidan’s weight pressed tightly against his right. 
He closed his eyes again. All was as it should be.
There was that noise again. 
This time Kakuzu frowned, pouring all of his concentration into locating its source. It had been very quiet and barely noticeable, but it had also seemed very close. It couldn’t have been the mountain collapsing, because rocks didn’t make that kind of sound. It was almost as if…
Crying.
His partner was crying.
For a good moment or two, Kakuzu actually wondered if his age was finally catching up to him and he was going senile. Then he heard the noise again and no, he was entirely sane and something had just gone utterly wrong somehow because Hidan did not cry. It went beyond the debate of immaturity; it was simply something Kakuzu had thought both of them incapable of, considering their occupation and life history. Of course, what did he know about Hidan’s life. It hadn’t crossed his mind once throughout the entire duration of their partnership since stuff like that simply didn’t matter. 
Hidan didn’t weep openly, like he’d seen many do in the face of death or the loss of some loved one or prized possession. Every once in a while, he sniffled, very quietly. Kakuzu could feel the tempo of his breaths against him and knew that he was still asleep. They still had time before the sun rose, so the older man, feeling strangely off kilter, let him sleep. 
When the sky grew light enough, he felt Hidan stir beside him. With minimal movement on both ends, their eyes finally met. The Jashinist seemed slightly alarmed to see Kakuzu already awake and looking at him. His eyes were slightly red, nose pink and slightly puffy, but his surprise morphed quickly into anger.
“What the hell?”
“I could ask you the same,” Kakuzu said evenly. Hidan’s lips thinned. “Is this going to affect your performance?”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” growled the Jashinist, tendons in his neck rising in agitation. 
“You know exactly what,” Kakuzu replied. “I’ll ask again: is this going to affect your performance?”
A muscle jumped in Hidan’s jaw. “No,” he said stonily. 
“Then that’s all that matters. Let’s keep going.”
The rest of the trek was in silence. Kakuzu watched the way Hidan climb ahead with more vigor than necessary. Though he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t curious, he knew not to push. They had joined the organization on very different circumstances, and the older man knew when to mind his business. Unfortunately, the Jashinist did not.
“Keep staring at me and you might just burn a hole right through my ass,” Hidan snarled without turning around. “What the hell is your problem today, anyway?”
“I haven’t done anything out of the ordinary,” Kakuzu said. 
“Yes you have. I know you’re wondering what the fuck happened back there. Quit trying to act all saint-like by pulling that ‘not-asking’ bullshit.”
“Did you want me to ask, then?” said Kakuzu, annoyed. 
“Fuck no. Just stop thinking about it. It doesn’t matter to you or anyone else.”
The silence fell around them again, and Kakuzu, irked at having acted so transparently, actively worked to keep it off his mind. 
That night, thanks to both of their stubborn perseverance, they finally reached the top of the mountain. Like they were informed, a small shrine was situated at the edge of the precipice. Battered and rickety from the wind and rain, it creaked dangerously under their weights as Hidan pried open the floor panels. Kakuzu kept his eyes on the horizon while his partner worked.
“Here it is.” Kicking aside the loose floorboards, the older man peered down to see what they were after. It was a small, clear box wherein a pearl necklace lay. “Did we seriously just come all this way for that?”
“We’re being paid ten million for it,” Kakuzu reminded him. “And supposedly, it’s cursed.”
Hidan cackled, swiping the box and shoving it in his pocket. “Yeah, sure. Come on, let’s go. I’m starving.”
“I’m not skidding down this entire mountain,” Kakuzu growled. “We leave at first light tomorrow.”
“No fucking way! I haven’t eaten in a day, you asshole.”
“We have our water skins. Food can wait until tomorrow.”
“Then take me to the rib house we passed back there.”
“You’re getting paid from this, so go buy your own.”
“I’ll pay you back, for fuck’s sake! Just get me ribs and I won’t jump off right now.” Hidan hovered a warning foot over the cliff. 
Kakuzu rubbed at his eyes. “Fine.”
 ~*o*~
That night, Kakuzu was forced into alertness once again by a noise, but this time it was the creaking of the decrepit shrine in the wind. Tired and angry, he had half a mind to just shove the whole thing off the cliff. He was pacing around the perimeter of the thing when he heard a cry. 
Kakuzu whipped around, crouching into a defensive position as he loosened the stitching on his arms. There was nothing on this tiny, barren stretch of land miles up into the cloud except for a few skeletal shrubs. Under the white wash of moonlight, the older man’s eyes were drawn to a figure currently thrashing dangerously close to the edge. 
He lunged forward and grabbed Hidan’s ankle before he could tumble off into the void. Strangled noises were fighting their way out of his throat and he was clutching at his head as if he were hellbent on ripping his hair out. The Jashinist’s muscles were rock hard, locked into place. Kakuzu would have to break his arms if he wanted to pull them away. 
“Hidan!” Kakuzu shouted, clamping down on his thrashing partner while trying to inch them away to the center of the mountaintop. He allowed his threads to erupt from his back to anchor deeply into the rock, in case he was pulled over as well. 
“Don’ want it,” Hidan grunted through clenched teeth, almost bucking the older man off with a particularly violent shove. “Never wanted… never…”
“Hidan, look at me,” Kakuzu demanded, dodging a flying elbow by a hair’s breadth. “You’re dreaming. Open your eyes!”
“No,” Hidan screamed, clawing at his chest and arms. His nails tore through skin and blood spurted from each streak. “…don’t wanna… serve!”
The older man finally managed to straddle his partner and delivered a forceful punch to the Jashinist’s face, then another, and another. The third impact broke his nose, and the pain had been enough. Hidan’s eyes snapped open, and for a split second they were seeing something else, terrified and lonely. The haze quickly cleared and the two men were left heaving for breath while the wind howled around them.
“Kakuzu?” Hidan whispered. “W-what th–”
“What,” Kakuzu cut in with a snarl, “the ever-living fuck was that?” He backed away to let the Jashinist sit up and gape at the claw marks over his own body. The threads were pulled out and retracted; the rocks beneath them gave an ominous groan. 
Hidan’s face was nearly translucent; tear tracks ran through the blood and gathered at his chin. He looked up at his partner. “I dunno,” he muttered, still seemingly caught up in the raw emotion that his subconscious had wrought. “I thought I was back at–”
He never got to finish the sentence. Without warning, the ground beneath Hidan cracked and shattered, giving away. Kakuzu threw himself at his partner without thinking. A deafening roar fill his ears as part of the mountain crumbled down in a landslide of trees, boulder, and dust. They clung low to the remaining flat ground and listened to the tumultuous rumble of rocks fading into a mere whisper. 
“Yer crushin’ me,” Hidan groaned into the ground, coughing as he inhaled the dirt. “Can’t breathe.”
“Turn your head to the side, then.” He could still feel the vibrations through the mountain, wondered if this entire thing was going to collapse along with the first wave.
“Why can’t we jus’ ride yer masks down to the bottom?” Hidan asked weakly. 
“I only have two,” Kakuzu reminded him.
“So?”
“Only one of them is airborne. It can’t support both our weights.”
Hidan didn’t answer. They just lay there like that, with Kakuzu pressing more than half of his weight over Hidan’s sprawled, bloodied form. He kept one ear close to the ground, listening. 
It wasn’t long before a tiny sniffle escaped from his partner again. Kakuzu watched as Hidan trembled for precisely three seconds, before stilling. He sniffled again. 
“S’not gonna affect my performance,” Hidan choked, although from this close Kakuzu could see that the dirt was wet where the Jashinist’s eyes were pressed into. 
“What was it?” Kakuzu couldn’t help but ask.
“Ain’t nothing.” 
“You said you never wanted to serve.” A cloud drifted over the moon, so that they were plunged into darkness. “Did you mean your precious–”
“Shut up.” Hidan’s voice was icy. 
“You’ve acted like you wanted it. Since the beginning.”
The silence that followed stretched on for so long the older man was beginning to think Hidan had fallen asleep. Then a huff of laughter, devoid of mirth, sent grains of dust blowing away from under them. “It doesn’t matter now, does it?” 
Kakuzu pondered that for a minute. “Perhaps,” he said.
Hidan sniffled again. 
They waited until the mountain was absolutely still again. Very slowly, Kakuzu folded himself into a sitting position, and the Jashinist did the same. There was dried blood and tears smudged with dirt caking his face. He wordlessly reached out, and Hidan leaned in automatically. The older man grabbed the broken nose and reset it with a sharp crack.
Hidan screwed up his face. “Owww,” he groaned, wiping furiously at his eyes and chin. 
In the near complete darkness, Kakuzu stared at a point of nothing, wondering how to phrase his next words. His partner continued to shuffle around next to him, a small flurry of movement and curses.
“You live with it,” he said finally, making Hidan pause, “and it doesn’t ever go away, I think.”
“Huh?” Back to pretending like nothing happened. “What the hell are you on about?”
“Your choices,” Kakuzu specified. “Even when you didn’t have any, because having no choice is still your decision, in a way.”
The Jashinist scoffed. “You’re not making any sense, old man.” He continued to scuffle about. 
“In our lifestyle, when you’re left with no choice…” Kakuzu began unbuttoning his cloak. “You can either choose to live with it, or die. It’s ironic how the latter is impossible given our particular circumstances, but there was still a moment where it could’ve been done.” The movements had stopped again, but this time there were no scathing remarks.
“Idiot,” Hidan muttered after a while.  “Of course I had to go with it. I’d have died otherwise.”
“But you didn’t. You’re here now, because you chose to live. There is a strength in that.”
“Well I wasn’t just gonna off myself, was I?” Hidan snapped.
“You could’ve,” Kakuzu said, shrugging. “I’ve seen countless shinobi take a knife to their throats, unable to live with themselves. Unable to live with the fact that they had no choice. So they chose to die.”
“The hell is your point?”
“You’re not weak. Shut up, Hidan, don’t take me for a fool. I know you think so. I could see it in your face yesterday, and twenty minutes ago. You’re not weak for them taking your decisions away from you. You chose to live with it and make it your own. You’ve risen above them.”
The wind died down from a high pitched whistle to a mere whisper. They both remained motionless for a long time. 
“You can cry all you like,” Kakuzu said. “It doesn’t make you any less strong.”
“As if,” Hidan said at last, and his voice was thick. “I ain’t no pussy.” But he was sniffling again, like he couldn’t stop himself. “I was doing so well, forgetting about it all. And now you’ve gone and fucked it all up. Fuck you, Kakuzu.”
“Well, thought I’d help.” With a grunt and heave, Kakuzu released his masks from his back and they staggered out with disjointed whines. “Can’t have you ruining our performance over such a thing, can I?”
The trip down the mountain was long and arduous. But after that night, Hidan never had nightmares again. 
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