The subtle art of defiance [collection]
Title: The subtle art of defiance
Characters: Hidan, Yugito, Kakuzu
Words: 986
Summary: Seeking shelter form a storm and revolts that are always little more than semi-successful.
One
Dry soil wailing for water. Germs half-dreaming. Roots of revolts that are of feeling and consciousness.
Two
Yugito followed, had done so for the major part of her life and did she find herself reluctant she did still.
Not a sheep, but an obedient lion. The demon in her raging, subdued by her will that was governed by other things outside her own self. Loyalty.
A weakness, maybe. Something woven all through her being, thin-layered, but there. Nothing that would spill out like pus if one stuck a needle in the right spot, stuck it deep, injured some hidden part of her. Empyema-like. A brittle soul.
Three
A gale went through the treetops, the air too warm, the wind seeming to develop a greater suction than it should have. Something tense lay in it, making everything that was ancient in her tingle, a building up, overwhelming tension coupled with the deepest muscles of her legs.
Those used for frantic movement and flight, those not ruled by will but instinct.
Summer was sullen these days.
The storm swell, dark castles constructed in the sky, strangely solid, manifesting themselves as high, looming towers weighting down on her. She could sense it, felt it reverberate all through her, some persistent prickle.
A snarl as the wind tore at her.
Then, something bright at the corners of her vision, she turned to see the bold of lightning. Thunder rolled.
It was not until he pointed and hollered that Hidan’s voice reached her. The huts’s lights flickered like those of dying wicks. Rain came down as a thick curtain, obscuring the horizon, the mountains behind it like blue, faded watercolor paintings.
More syllables torn from his mouth by a new, stronger gale. The labor of the birth of something tremendous, slowly developing in the mass of swirling clouds above her.
She walked towards Hidan, another bright shadow, apparently nearer this time.
The bird’s warning cries reached their crescendo in silence, then bright, ramified veins of light made contact with the ground, everything overly bright just for a moment, then rumbling thunder. Promising.
Four
She remembered being caught up in a storm at the high seas. Hidan stood next to her, a smile plastered across his lips, predatory, briefly restraining his emotions, a thing he didn’t usually do.
As she clutched onto the railing, she found his amusement strangely contagious. They were out on the deck, the waves rolling over them, swallowing, a world of salty water and chaotic noise.
They laughed together amidst it all. The sound breaking out of her, uncontrolled, flooding her throat, foreign in it. High and not as mad as she wished it to be.
Five
It was the way that Hidan carried himself that told Yugito that he hated their leader. The way he insulted and cursed, fought and laughed. Not questioning though, never questioning. Daring because it was in his nature to do so. Always obeying in the end, the gesture revealing that he also needed him, that he found himself unable to walk away, despising the man because of that very fact.
Anger needed to be restricted to boil like it did in him. Living like that was coarse. Something she was very aware of.
Six
The hut seemed strangely lopsided, leaning against the squall in the same way they did. A low building, the wood graying with age, bleached from endless exposure to the weather. An old shack, maybe, long unused and broken down, but occupied now.
The group of men had settled into the corner furthest away from them, petrified, eying them with suspicion. Kakuzu sat next to her, his body warm against the chill of the earthen floor. A year or two and weeds would grow there.
Hidan stared into the group’s faces, his leer almost anticipating. The men glanced back, never truly reacting, some silent and clandestine way of assessing them. Probably thinking about ganging up on them, appraising the outcome.
Kakuzu’s mask had come down, all those careful wrappings, the stitches exposed in the dim light.
The rain outside seemed monotone here, something that was suddenly driven against the walls by unfrequented gales. More thunder, the bright light that must have forerun it not reaching them in the windowless room, the small fire in its center offering no heat.
One of the men met Hidan’s gaze, lips moving as if to speak. Fast movement, the smile the white-haired man cracked him almost pitying. A mutual effort to lunge forward, the attacker the bravest or most foolish of the group, one of the things she would never know.
The impact of him crashing in the wall vibrated through the whole cabin, a wooden tuning fork ringing.
Hidan’s face twisted as he stared at Kakuzu standing in front of the small crowd, less than ten now, huddled together, the sight hilarious in a way she would not quite admit to herself.
“I can handle them”, Hidan’s voice smoldered, contempt written all across his features.
Silence, then. The men frozen as Kakuzu nodded, letting out a gruff, indifferent sound. He lowered himself onto the ground and sat down once more.
Hidan looked at him, looked at the men and snarled, finally retreating. The air thick, animosity and fear evident it.
Isolation.
Seven
Kakuzu is not easily defied, the creatures born of his own mass extensions of his will, authority something he is cloaked in, horses shying away - then submission. The man himself old and intent, confident that he will get what he desires. A prophecy that is -naturally- self-fulfilling.
Eight
The earth’s smell was rich, mists rising form it as the morning sun began to rise. Life something she might have tasted if she had only stuck out her tongue.
They walked past it all, young plants struggling with the wet soil, begging to be born. She had the unmistakable feeling that nothing would grow here today.
Characters: Hidan, Yugito, Kakuzu
Words: 986
Summary: Seeking shelter form a storm and revolts that are always little more than semi-successful.
One
Dry soil wailing for water. Germs half-dreaming. Roots of revolts that are of feeling and consciousness.
Two
Yugito followed, had done so for the major part of her life and did she find herself reluctant she did still.
Not a sheep, but an obedient lion. The demon in her raging, subdued by her will that was governed by other things outside her own self. Loyalty.
A weakness, maybe. Something woven all through her being, thin-layered, but there. Nothing that would spill out like pus if one stuck a needle in the right spot, stuck it deep, injured some hidden part of her. Empyema-like. A brittle soul.
Three
A gale went through the treetops, the air too warm, the wind seeming to develop a greater suction than it should have. Something tense lay in it, making everything that was ancient in her tingle, a building up, overwhelming tension coupled with the deepest muscles of her legs.
Those used for frantic movement and flight, those not ruled by will but instinct.
Summer was sullen these days.
The storm swell, dark castles constructed in the sky, strangely solid, manifesting themselves as high, looming towers weighting down on her. She could sense it, felt it reverberate all through her, some persistent prickle.
A snarl as the wind tore at her.
Then, something bright at the corners of her vision, she turned to see the bold of lightning. Thunder rolled.
It was not until he pointed and hollered that Hidan’s voice reached her. The huts’s lights flickered like those of dying wicks. Rain came down as a thick curtain, obscuring the horizon, the mountains behind it like blue, faded watercolor paintings.
More syllables torn from his mouth by a new, stronger gale. The labor of the birth of something tremendous, slowly developing in the mass of swirling clouds above her.
She walked towards Hidan, another bright shadow, apparently nearer this time.
The bird’s warning cries reached their crescendo in silence, then bright, ramified veins of light made contact with the ground, everything overly bright just for a moment, then rumbling thunder. Promising.
Four
She remembered being caught up in a storm at the high seas. Hidan stood next to her, a smile plastered across his lips, predatory, briefly restraining his emotions, a thing he didn’t usually do.
As she clutched onto the railing, she found his amusement strangely contagious. They were out on the deck, the waves rolling over them, swallowing, a world of salty water and chaotic noise.
They laughed together amidst it all. The sound breaking out of her, uncontrolled, flooding her throat, foreign in it. High and not as mad as she wished it to be.
Five
It was the way that Hidan carried himself that told Yugito that he hated their leader. The way he insulted and cursed, fought and laughed. Not questioning though, never questioning. Daring because it was in his nature to do so. Always obeying in the end, the gesture revealing that he also needed him, that he found himself unable to walk away, despising the man because of that very fact.
Anger needed to be restricted to boil like it did in him. Living like that was coarse. Something she was very aware of.
Six
The hut seemed strangely lopsided, leaning against the squall in the same way they did. A low building, the wood graying with age, bleached from endless exposure to the weather. An old shack, maybe, long unused and broken down, but occupied now.
The group of men had settled into the corner furthest away from them, petrified, eying them with suspicion. Kakuzu sat next to her, his body warm against the chill of the earthen floor. A year or two and weeds would grow there.
Hidan stared into the group’s faces, his leer almost anticipating. The men glanced back, never truly reacting, some silent and clandestine way of assessing them. Probably thinking about ganging up on them, appraising the outcome.
Kakuzu’s mask had come down, all those careful wrappings, the stitches exposed in the dim light.
The rain outside seemed monotone here, something that was suddenly driven against the walls by unfrequented gales. More thunder, the bright light that must have forerun it not reaching them in the windowless room, the small fire in its center offering no heat.
One of the men met Hidan’s gaze, lips moving as if to speak. Fast movement, the smile the white-haired man cracked him almost pitying. A mutual effort to lunge forward, the attacker the bravest or most foolish of the group, one of the things she would never know.
The impact of him crashing in the wall vibrated through the whole cabin, a wooden tuning fork ringing.
Hidan’s face twisted as he stared at Kakuzu standing in front of the small crowd, less than ten now, huddled together, the sight hilarious in a way she would not quite admit to herself.
“I can handle them”, Hidan’s voice smoldered, contempt written all across his features.
Silence, then. The men frozen as Kakuzu nodded, letting out a gruff, indifferent sound. He lowered himself onto the ground and sat down once more.
Hidan looked at him, looked at the men and snarled, finally retreating. The air thick, animosity and fear evident it.
Isolation.
Seven
Kakuzu is not easily defied, the creatures born of his own mass extensions of his will, authority something he is cloaked in, horses shying away - then submission. The man himself old and intent, confident that he will get what he desires. A prophecy that is -naturally- self-fulfilling.
Eight
The earth’s smell was rich, mists rising form it as the morning sun began to rise. Life something she might have tasted if she had only stuck out her tongue.
They walked past it all, young plants struggling with the wet soil, begging to be born. She had the unmistakable feeling that nothing would grow here today.