[LOG] A Day In The Life Of... [Part 2 of 2]
Characters: Hidan and Kakuzu
Date: January 15
Location: Their shared apartment in Cena; various locations
Rating: R
Warnings/Notes: Language, Violence
Summary: Just another day…
Just like everything else that had to do with Hidan, Kakuzu hated it when he lost control. Control was the only thing he had that separated himself from his psychotic partner and because of that, he treasured this simple restraint. As much as he liked to snarl back his opinions, impossible at the moment because of the pressure against his voicebox, Kakuzu knew Hidan was right. He knew who he was, and for damned sure it wasn't a gentleman or the business man he posed as. But unlike Hidan, Kakuzu hid that part well and wrapped it up in a tight box with strings, stuffing it in the depths of his black heart. And as to who had the right to pull those strings, well it sure as fuck wasn't Hidan.
It only made it worse, this internal thinking. More blood sprayed out from Kakuzu's mouth as he coughed on his own blood as well as from the increasing pressure on his throat, the flecks of blood painting his pale face as much as Hidan's. Kakuzu hasn't seen himself in a mirror for a long time, but even so, he knows the scars that line his face and the green piercing eyes looking back at himself. Seeing Hidan's bloody face in front of him made him wonder if he looked half as bad at the moment.
He really doesn't want to think anymore.
There's a good thing he has two hands, as Kakuzu makes use of that fact and uses his other hand to grip Hidan's wrist, nails embedding in the bed of his bones and blood vessels leading to the palm to cause the pressure to lessen, just enough so he can speak.
"So, fuck off," he says flatly.
Less than a second later, he's released all hold on Hidan and puts all of his strength in his fist and tries so hard to embed it into Hidan's face as he knocks his partner to the ground with a single blow. With no control, whatsoever. If the sick bastard was so keen in seeing him without it, Kakuzu decided to humor him for a good five minutes before retracting his hands and feet from beating in Hidan's ribs, stomach, head, whatever met his fury. It's the grin that kept him going. The murderous thoughts cycling in his mind that someday he'll bring an end to this man. Stumbling slightly, Kakuzu stepped away, his head reeling and his hand brought up to staunch the bleeding wound so near his main arteries. Grabbing the handkerchief he had stuffed in his pocket earlier before leaving, a makeshift bandage was made around his throat, mixing Hidan's dry blood with his own.
Then he kneels down to the girl, her lifeless eye watching him as he wearily pulls out the knife from her forehead; the blood filling up the bloody socket on the right. There's not much left to salvage but anything would work in this type of business.
Hidan lay there for a moment chuckling breathlessly, quite beside himself with delight. It had honestly been a damned long time since he had seen the other so riled, every bruise was completely worth it. Swiping at the mixture of their shared blood that soiled his face, he was quite upset pleased to learn his nose was unbroken albeit still bleeding from that little love tap his surprisingly insightful words had earned him.
Just because it was his position to be the brut force of the pair, surely didn't mean that he didn't have the brains as well. It was just that final ace hidden in the pocket to be used when needed and when least expected. He just didn't see the point of worrying about the finer points when there was someone else there who thrived on the nit-picking, therefore leaving Hidan to enjoy himself to the fullest.
It really was all about him of course.
Rather like the beating he just took. Sure, he could have fought back if he so chose, but what was the point? He'd already won by inciting the reaction, not to mention the added bonus of leaving his own personal mark on Kakuzu. There were others left from other such incidents of course, but the scar that would form on his neck would be by far the worst. Hell, just a little harder and he could have easily killed the bastard but where would the fun be in that? That day would come eventually but Hidan wasn't quite through with this one yet. Not to mention it really was quite troublesome to break in a newbie.
Pulling himself up into a seated position he was a little disappointed to see that the mask had slammed back into place but it was to be expected. It would probably be months before Hidan would manage to push him that far again, though there was always the prospect in proving himself wrong on that account. For now he could amuse himself watching the precise movements of Kakuzu completely in his element. If he were anything like that damned Deidara or Sasori-freak he could preach about the 'art' of the other man's skills, but that pansy-assed shit was their deal and definitely not his. Idly sucking the blood off a finger he propped himself up against the wall to enjoy the show
*~*~*~*~*~*
By the time Kakuzu had gotten to the market and sold what he had [one blue-eye, kidney, liver, and brain] and came back to the apartment, it was already late evening. Usually he would've gone to the market with Hidan and while he argued the price and payment. During that time, Hidan would never fail to bring up some smart dirty phrases that signaled his impatience. Under the circumstances in what happened earlier of that day, however, Kakuzu left without a word to his "partner" who was still looking at him with a Cheshire smile. The smile being the sole reason why Kakuzu would have rather gone alone this time. Although killing Hidan in front of the man he dealt organs with would've proved that the organs were fresh, unlike what he salvaged from the whore's body.
Even now his open wound was still, well, open. For the sake of preserving the organs, Kakuzu had ignored the pressure increasing against his throat's attempt to breath and take in oxygen. Now as he finally reached the apartment, Kakuzu went straight to the cabinets that held the medical supplies as well as the numerous spools of black thread and needles. There was no anger left in his system to spare against Hidan at this point, just the weariness of a day's work and unexpected dramatic bullshit. Kakuzu didn't even bother to look for Hidan as he pulled out material after material from the cabinet and brought it all to the bathroom, starting to stitch his throat back in one-working piece again.
Hidan vaguely heard the sound of his partner returning but exhibited no signs of moving to torment greet him. Instead he refocused his attention to the alter in front of him, his lips moving silently with the prayers that had long since been ingrained in his memory. If it hadn't been for the elaborate circle decorated with ancient runes and scrawls drawn in the mingled blood of himself and any number of past victims, the scene would have probably struck the casual observer as incredibly pious. Though the once beating heart that now found itself glistening wetly as a macabre offering would have definitely ruined the otherwise somber moment.
While Kakuzu had been out bartering or stealing candy from some brat or whatever in the hell it was he did on his own, Hidan left what remained of the corpse behind (if anything else perhaps he would give Zetsu a holler, save himself the trouble of having to clean that shit up) and took to the streets to find a replacement to the kill he had been denied. It ended up being for the best as he eventually came across some tramp from a rival ring, down on her knees servicing a mark. Two for one, adding a crown to an already fantastic day. He went down easily enough but the bitch gave a good fight and Hidan ended up with scarlet claw marks from the hellcat to add to his tally for the night, not to mention a few more notches on his scorecard in his bid for a place at Jashin's right hand.
The blood had long dried on his hands by the time he made it back to their shared dwelling, a good thing as slick hands would have only made it that much more difficult to force the fingers back into place properly. The scratches and bruises he wore proudly, his own tangible trophies and even better, a visual reminder for him to flaunt around Kakuzu to remind the prick of Hidan's victory that day.
Long, pale fingers worked fast in the work of sewing up the rather large incision in his throat. After treating it for infection and numbing the edges of the wound with a numbing agent, Kakuzu wasted no time in sewing it up. His green eyes bore holes into the mirror across from him, watching the thread dig into his skin and then come out the other side. In. Out. In. Out. Occasionally a gauze or two was needed to staunch the blood flow before Kakuzu could start again. It was a slow process, but at the moment Kakuzu's patience was anything but thing. A couple of hours without Hidan and a pocket-full of heft cash could do wonders to a man.
Slowly, but surely, the gaping wound was stitched into a thin black seam, adorned with directional zig-zags. Finally, Kakuzu was able to move his neck to the side without experiencing the tearing of flesh or a fresh new wave of blood flow. After cleaning up his hands, he went back into the kitchen to look for something that would be able to boost his iron and blood-levels to normal again. Habit made him pound once on Hidan's door and ask if there were any injuries on the idiot's body that looked green or were wider than three inches.
"If you bleed to death or die of infection, it makes no difference to me. But I am not going to use the funds to pay for your injuries."
An involuntary growl bubbled up in the back of his throat at the very inconsiderate interruption. Fucker knew that when the door was shut he was busy. Any other time Hidan usually didn't really give a damn and left the door to his own private area at all other times if only to piss Kakuzu off with whatever little way he could, be it with whatever guests he was entertaining or simply walking around at his most comfortable in direct offense of the other's eyes. As it were, he hadn't even gotten to that point, having been in long enough to remove his otherwise ruined shirt and to begin his ritual before the stolen organ had cooled completely.
Shoving himself off the floor, Hidan scowled as the threat filtered through the cheap pressed wood just as he gripped the tarnished brass doorknob, yanking it open to glare at the bastard on the other side.
"Those funds are partially mine regardless of what you might like to think shithead. If I want to go find me a pretty nurse and play doctor for a bit I'll damned well do it. Hella lot better then havin' to look at your ugly mug." His sour mood at having been interrupted lightened significantly at already seeing the dark threads shadowing Kakuzu's neck, dark and ugly against that pasty skin. His own flesh was still quite blood stained between the hellcat's gouges and where Kakuzu attempt at persuasion of the bladed sort, and that wasn't even counting the blossoming bruises from the bastard's little temper tantrum.
"Besides, as if you'd get rid of my ass that easily."
Green eyes followed the many bruises dotting Hidan's body silently, along with discovering fresh new gouges in the skin that Kakuzu had no idea where they had come from. Frankly, he didn't care. It was like working for an insurance company, having need to survey the damage, and repair if necessary. Like surveying the results of a car crash, Kakuzu took in how much antiseptic he might need and if the thread he had just used was enough to close those angry red gouges. If anyone wanted to get metaphoric, Hidan was just like a car on autopilot. If you touched his steering wheel or even attempt to put on the brakes, he'll take you on for the ride of your life. Kakuzu had been on that trip one times too many, having come out of the crash more than once.
The bitch about it was that there was no airbag. You had to create your own.
Kakuzu narrowed his eyes at the pair of lucid eyes staring back at him unconsciously, as if realizing that he had just thought of the most ridiculous thing in the world. It was either the morphine getting into his system or that Hidan really pissed him off that much.
Stilling the argument that Hidan's funds and practically those of every Akatsuki member was in Kakuzu's palm and could be deleted at any time (with the endorsement of Pein, of course), Kakuzu instead reached out and snagged a handful of Hidan's hair, dragging the Jashinist into the kitchen and then plunking his ass down firmly in a seat. Before the man could do anything to resist Kakuzu, the taller man already had a needle filled with a mild tranquilizer to quell any fights that might arise from this rough treatment.
Although the usage of a tranquilizer might be seen as overkill in some eyes, Kakuzu would only flatly argue that he was creating his own "airbag".
Goddamn morphine.
To say that the sudden manhandling was a surprise would be a complete understatement. It had been Hidan's intention to snark at the bastard and eventually slam the door in his face so the fact that he was being led along by the hair no less, it took just a brief moment for his brain to compute.
"What the FUCK shithead! I'm not some broad to be lugged around by the hair you prick, so let me go!" He struggled against the grip and nearly fell off the chair in his attempt to get away, the prospect of being tended to by the less then merciful asshole not exactly high on his list. A fist to the jaw was one thing, being subjected to the bastard's stitching fetish...a whole other ballgame. He was just about risk the loss of his hair when his head was unceremoniously yanked to the side and he felt the not-so-gentle tell-tale piercing of skin. Foul curses continued to pour forth from the younger man's vulgar mouth even as the tranquilizer worked its way through his system, slowing his struggles and adding a distinctive slur to filth that fell from his lips.
"I fuckin' swear, I'm gonna rip your fuckin' black heart out and watch the piece of shit stop beatin' in my bare fuckin' hand before I send your damned soul screamin' into the deepest pit of hell you fucker..." The vulgarities continued on until they were nothing more then an unrecognizable mumble and the drug relaxed his muscles enough so that his head lolled forward, leaving him vulnerable to Kakuzu's ministrations.
Upon hearing the garbage coming out of Hidan's mouth still to an incomprehensible string of muffled sounds, Kakuzu stepped away from the man to retrieve the items he needed to stitch together those gouges. The needle was laid aside just in case for another dosage that would be needed, in which Kakuzu would be more than happy to give Hidan. He laid the thread along with antiseptic gel and rubbing alcohol on the table while he dragged a chair over, purposely letting the legs of the chair to drag over Hidan's feet before resting it next to him.
"Sorry, did you say something?"
Blood-stained hands shoved Hidan's already fallen head forward, causing the front of the face to come in a sudden contact with the table with a sickening smack! Kakuzu twisted open the alcohol bottle and poured a good amount of the clear liquid over the vertical injuries, which would no doubt cause a considerable amount of pain for anyone, but Hidan seemed to take it fairly well enough. Besides, didn't he love this sort of stuff?
Needless to say, the man was less careful and rough around patching up Hidan than he did himself. The thin silver needle viciously dug in and out at a rapid pace, pulling along with it the thin black thread. Every stitch or so another dab of antiseptic gel was spread over the wound before it was sealed tight with the black thread. Kakuzu couldn't count how many yards of string he had already used on the man since the day Hidan was assigned to him, but he remembered it was enough to cause a spike in financial resources usage in medical supplies.
Orders or no orders...Hidan was going to kill the mother-fucker when he could manage to move his limbs again. But for now, he was just going to have to satisfy himself with doing it in his mind, adding each indignity he was forced to suffer to a tally so the prissy bastard would get everything back that he felt so damned confident to dole out with himself in such a state.
Talk about low.
Perhaps had his mouth and pretty much anything else had mobility it wouldn't be nearly as bad, hell, maybe even down right enjoyable really but when it was done like this? Not so much. Especially not when everything was dulled with whatever the fucker had given him nor when he was being forced to play puppet to Kakuzu's weird fuckin' fetish with that black thread of his...something that was whipped out with a frightening haste at the first given opportunity.
As it were, Hidan could barely manage to turn his head to the side so he could breath around the blood flowing from his nose from his not so graceful face-dive onto the table top. Doing his best to shift his features into a scowl, Hidan managed to somehow collect enough blood in his mouth to spray at the bastard in retaliation for bloodying his nose for the second time that day.
"Fucker, if yer pla'n nurse leas' you coul'do s'wear th'outfit," he slurred, attempting to enunciate as best he could and failing miserably.
Kakuzu only paid the mildest interest in the mumbling mouth that was still yammering about things Kakuzu would normally kill someone when said. Instead, he focused on the last inch of skin needed to be sewn up. The needle "slipped" from his fingers and embedded itself into the exposed part of the wound. Plucking it out with a hint of ignorance at this painful mistake, Kakuzu kept in the urge of smashing Hidan's face into the tabletop again. Finally with the last stitch in place, Kakuzu yanked the string straight and clipped it with his teeth, tying it up before finishing it entirely.
Only then did he allow himself the pleasure to cuff Hidan's head, pounding him into the table again. "I don't play dress-up." Needle and thread hovered hesitantly around Hidan's blood-covered lips for a moment before moving way. Gathering the materials, Kakuzu replaced them in the cabinet before shuffling around the miscellaneous cans and pulling two out for "dinner".
Fingers twitched with irritation at the whole damned scenario as Hidan bit back the groan that wanted to bubble forth as he once again was forced to kiss the tabletop, the smug bastard hovering long enough to threaten him silently with that fucking needle of his before wandering off to bang around in the kitchen.
Oh yes, there would be some hardcore retribution for this shit. And while it may definitely not be one of his stronger points, Hidan reserved his limited reservoir of patience for such an occasion. Kakuzu would likely be anticipating an attack as soon as he was able, but Hidan was content to wait. The fucker would never see it coming and the anticipation of sweet revenge was enough of a reason for his blood slicked lips to slide into a pleased grin.
Slowly but surely he was finding himself able to move as the narcotic wore off, ecstatic when he was finally able to shakily push himself off the table, his forearms bracing him up to rest momentarily before sitting himself upright of his own accord. The fresh stitches pulled as he moved, the itchy feeling of the thread combined with the not-so-tender manner that they'd been applied already being felt through the haze of the drug. As he brought his hand up to pinch at the bridge of his nose in a vain attempt to staunch the blood flow, Hidan glared at the innocent looking syringe that brought him a good mess of this trouble. While it would have been amusing to have snuck up behind the godless bastard and stick his ass and leave him there, Hidan's ability at stealth was still almost nonexistent so instead he satisfied himself with knocking it to the floor to crush underneath the leg of his chair to ensure the bastard wouldn't have another opportunity to dope him up.
"Hey, Martha Fuckin'-Stewart, how 'bout just fuckin' callin' out for somethin', I don't feel like any that gruel shit tonight. It's the least you can fuckin' do ya bastard.
On that day, Kakuzu could remember actually seeing Pein rather than being ordered through the indirect forms of communication. Things were quiet, silent, and serious like always, except he had the sweat that slicked down his back when he met the leader of the Akatsuki face-to-face. It was hot that day and he failed to dress any lighter than his usual dark drab, yet Pein just stood there in the same heat as cool as anything could be. The threats were subtle and smooth and yet the ramifications the man had promised to deliver to Kakuzu, if he discovered that another partner had died in any "accidental" ways, was not.
If it wasn't for the sake of Pein's words and avoiding the said ramifications, Kakuzu would've killed Hidan without a doubt.
Accidentally, of course.
A voice dragged him through the recesses of his mind again, digging through the drapes of morphine for a few seconds before Hidan's words made sense to Kakuzu. Looking down, Kakuzu growled in frustration at the demolished can in his right hand, the crushed object digging into the flesh of his palm, drawing out blood. It seemed that unconsciously, the can of soup had been used to take out the annoyance and murder intent that always built up now and then in Kakuzu's mind.
"I should've sewn your tongue to the roof of your mouth," Kakuzu scowled, reaching for the phone and brushing the soup contents off of his hands and onto a dirty rag on the table. The cut wasn't deep but blood was pouring out all the same. It was a wonder that either of them lived to see the next day, seeing the vast amounts of blood they lost everyday over trivial things.
The tell-tale chirping of telephone buttons being pressed had Hidan grinning beneath his hand, though there was no denying he was curious as to what the odd crunching sound had been moments before.
"Something spicy, none of that bland shit or it defeats the purpose," he shot towards the kitchen, something the bastard would do to spite him regardless. Blatantly ignoring the muttered threat to his overly active mouth, Hidan slowly pulled himself up from the chair not necessarily caring about the smeared blood he left in his wake as he made his way to the bathroom slowly, steadily cursing the last vestiges of the tranquilizer from allowing him to move normally. It was with a great amount of irritation that Hidan scrubbed the blood that stained the lower half of his face and neck, gingerly testing his already bruised nose for any broken or fractured bones. That irritation increased greatly seeing the sheer amount of obscene black thread that decorated his torso, his neck, everywhere there was skin there were stitches.
Fuck, if this shit kept up much longer he'd be looking like that bastard, not exactly a thrilling prospect by any stretch of the imagination.
Flexing and rolling his muscles in front of the mirror there was a near silent hiss that whistled past his lips, an odd mix of pain and the sweet pleasure it brought with it, his minds eye already seeing past the many scrapes and bruises earned this day to the new lines of scars that would litter his body. He supposed that he could count the small blessing that Kakuzu had for whatever reason, forgone the removal of any extra organs to replace those that he had destroyed earlier, something the bastard could have easily done with Hidan's forced incapacitation like he'd always threatened to.
Oh well, there was always the next time.
Date: January 15
Location: Their shared apartment in Cena; various locations
Rating: R
Warnings/Notes: Language, Violence
Summary: Just another day…
Just like everything else that had to do with Hidan, Kakuzu hated it when he lost control. Control was the only thing he had that separated himself from his psychotic partner and because of that, he treasured this simple restraint. As much as he liked to snarl back his opinions, impossible at the moment because of the pressure against his voicebox, Kakuzu knew Hidan was right. He knew who he was, and for damned sure it wasn't a gentleman or the business man he posed as. But unlike Hidan, Kakuzu hid that part well and wrapped it up in a tight box with strings, stuffing it in the depths of his black heart. And as to who had the right to pull those strings, well it sure as fuck wasn't Hidan.
It only made it worse, this internal thinking. More blood sprayed out from Kakuzu's mouth as he coughed on his own blood as well as from the increasing pressure on his throat, the flecks of blood painting his pale face as much as Hidan's. Kakuzu hasn't seen himself in a mirror for a long time, but even so, he knows the scars that line his face and the green piercing eyes looking back at himself. Seeing Hidan's bloody face in front of him made him wonder if he looked half as bad at the moment.
He really doesn't want to think anymore.
There's a good thing he has two hands, as Kakuzu makes use of that fact and uses his other hand to grip Hidan's wrist, nails embedding in the bed of his bones and blood vessels leading to the palm to cause the pressure to lessen, just enough so he can speak.
"So, fuck off," he says flatly.
Less than a second later, he's released all hold on Hidan and puts all of his strength in his fist and tries so hard to embed it into Hidan's face as he knocks his partner to the ground with a single blow. With no control, whatsoever. If the sick bastard was so keen in seeing him without it, Kakuzu decided to humor him for a good five minutes before retracting his hands and feet from beating in Hidan's ribs, stomach, head, whatever met his fury. It's the grin that kept him going. The murderous thoughts cycling in his mind that someday he'll bring an end to this man. Stumbling slightly, Kakuzu stepped away, his head reeling and his hand brought up to staunch the bleeding wound so near his main arteries. Grabbing the handkerchief he had stuffed in his pocket earlier before leaving, a makeshift bandage was made around his throat, mixing Hidan's dry blood with his own.
Then he kneels down to the girl, her lifeless eye watching him as he wearily pulls out the knife from her forehead; the blood filling up the bloody socket on the right. There's not much left to salvage but anything would work in this type of business.
Hidan lay there for a moment chuckling breathlessly, quite beside himself with delight. It had honestly been a damned long time since he had seen the other so riled, every bruise was completely worth it. Swiping at the mixture of their shared blood that soiled his face, he was quite upset pleased to learn his nose was unbroken albeit still bleeding from that little love tap his surprisingly insightful words had earned him.
Just because it was his position to be the brut force of the pair, surely didn't mean that he didn't have the brains as well. It was just that final ace hidden in the pocket to be used when needed and when least expected. He just didn't see the point of worrying about the finer points when there was someone else there who thrived on the nit-picking, therefore leaving Hidan to enjoy himself to the fullest.
It really was all about him of course.
Rather like the beating he just took. Sure, he could have fought back if he so chose, but what was the point? He'd already won by inciting the reaction, not to mention the added bonus of leaving his own personal mark on Kakuzu. There were others left from other such incidents of course, but the scar that would form on his neck would be by far the worst. Hell, just a little harder and he could have easily killed the bastard but where would the fun be in that? That day would come eventually but Hidan wasn't quite through with this one yet. Not to mention it really was quite troublesome to break in a newbie.
Pulling himself up into a seated position he was a little disappointed to see that the mask had slammed back into place but it was to be expected. It would probably be months before Hidan would manage to push him that far again, though there was always the prospect in proving himself wrong on that account. For now he could amuse himself watching the precise movements of Kakuzu completely in his element. If he were anything like that damned Deidara or Sasori-freak he could preach about the 'art' of the other man's skills, but that pansy-assed shit was their deal and definitely not his. Idly sucking the blood off a finger he propped himself up against the wall to enjoy the show
*~*~*~*~*~*
By the time Kakuzu had gotten to the market and sold what he had [one blue-eye, kidney, liver, and brain] and came back to the apartment, it was already late evening. Usually he would've gone to the market with Hidan and while he argued the price and payment. During that time, Hidan would never fail to bring up some smart dirty phrases that signaled his impatience. Under the circumstances in what happened earlier of that day, however, Kakuzu left without a word to his "partner" who was still looking at him with a Cheshire smile. The smile being the sole reason why Kakuzu would have rather gone alone this time. Although killing Hidan in front of the man he dealt organs with would've proved that the organs were fresh, unlike what he salvaged from the whore's body.
Even now his open wound was still, well, open. For the sake of preserving the organs, Kakuzu had ignored the pressure increasing against his throat's attempt to breath and take in oxygen. Now as he finally reached the apartment, Kakuzu went straight to the cabinets that held the medical supplies as well as the numerous spools of black thread and needles. There was no anger left in his system to spare against Hidan at this point, just the weariness of a day's work and unexpected dramatic bullshit. Kakuzu didn't even bother to look for Hidan as he pulled out material after material from the cabinet and brought it all to the bathroom, starting to stitch his throat back in one-working piece again.
Hidan vaguely heard the sound of his partner returning but exhibited no signs of moving to torment greet him. Instead he refocused his attention to the alter in front of him, his lips moving silently with the prayers that had long since been ingrained in his memory. If it hadn't been for the elaborate circle decorated with ancient runes and scrawls drawn in the mingled blood of himself and any number of past victims, the scene would have probably struck the casual observer as incredibly pious. Though the once beating heart that now found itself glistening wetly as a macabre offering would have definitely ruined the otherwise somber moment.
While Kakuzu had been out bartering or stealing candy from some brat or whatever in the hell it was he did on his own, Hidan left what remained of the corpse behind (if anything else perhaps he would give Zetsu a holler, save himself the trouble of having to clean that shit up) and took to the streets to find a replacement to the kill he had been denied. It ended up being for the best as he eventually came across some tramp from a rival ring, down on her knees servicing a mark. Two for one, adding a crown to an already fantastic day. He went down easily enough but the bitch gave a good fight and Hidan ended up with scarlet claw marks from the hellcat to add to his tally for the night, not to mention a few more notches on his scorecard in his bid for a place at Jashin's right hand.
The blood had long dried on his hands by the time he made it back to their shared dwelling, a good thing as slick hands would have only made it that much more difficult to force the fingers back into place properly. The scratches and bruises he wore proudly, his own tangible trophies and even better, a visual reminder for him to flaunt around Kakuzu to remind the prick of Hidan's victory that day.
Long, pale fingers worked fast in the work of sewing up the rather large incision in his throat. After treating it for infection and numbing the edges of the wound with a numbing agent, Kakuzu wasted no time in sewing it up. His green eyes bore holes into the mirror across from him, watching the thread dig into his skin and then come out the other side. In. Out. In. Out. Occasionally a gauze or two was needed to staunch the blood flow before Kakuzu could start again. It was a slow process, but at the moment Kakuzu's patience was anything but thing. A couple of hours without Hidan and a pocket-full of heft cash could do wonders to a man.
Slowly, but surely, the gaping wound was stitched into a thin black seam, adorned with directional zig-zags. Finally, Kakuzu was able to move his neck to the side without experiencing the tearing of flesh or a fresh new wave of blood flow. After cleaning up his hands, he went back into the kitchen to look for something that would be able to boost his iron and blood-levels to normal again. Habit made him pound once on Hidan's door and ask if there were any injuries on the idiot's body that looked green or were wider than three inches.
"If you bleed to death or die of infection, it makes no difference to me. But I am not going to use the funds to pay for your injuries."
An involuntary growl bubbled up in the back of his throat at the very inconsiderate interruption. Fucker knew that when the door was shut he was busy. Any other time Hidan usually didn't really give a damn and left the door to his own private area at all other times if only to piss Kakuzu off with whatever little way he could, be it with whatever guests he was entertaining or simply walking around at his most comfortable in direct offense of the other's eyes. As it were, he hadn't even gotten to that point, having been in long enough to remove his otherwise ruined shirt and to begin his ritual before the stolen organ had cooled completely.
Shoving himself off the floor, Hidan scowled as the threat filtered through the cheap pressed wood just as he gripped the tarnished brass doorknob, yanking it open to glare at the bastard on the other side.
"Those funds are partially mine regardless of what you might like to think shithead. If I want to go find me a pretty nurse and play doctor for a bit I'll damned well do it. Hella lot better then havin' to look at your ugly mug." His sour mood at having been interrupted lightened significantly at already seeing the dark threads shadowing Kakuzu's neck, dark and ugly against that pasty skin. His own flesh was still quite blood stained between the hellcat's gouges and where Kakuzu attempt at persuasion of the bladed sort, and that wasn't even counting the blossoming bruises from the bastard's little temper tantrum.
"Besides, as if you'd get rid of my ass that easily."
Green eyes followed the many bruises dotting Hidan's body silently, along with discovering fresh new gouges in the skin that Kakuzu had no idea where they had come from. Frankly, he didn't care. It was like working for an insurance company, having need to survey the damage, and repair if necessary. Like surveying the results of a car crash, Kakuzu took in how much antiseptic he might need and if the thread he had just used was enough to close those angry red gouges. If anyone wanted to get metaphoric, Hidan was just like a car on autopilot. If you touched his steering wheel or even attempt to put on the brakes, he'll take you on for the ride of your life. Kakuzu had been on that trip one times too many, having come out of the crash more than once.
The bitch about it was that there was no airbag. You had to create your own.
Kakuzu narrowed his eyes at the pair of lucid eyes staring back at him unconsciously, as if realizing that he had just thought of the most ridiculous thing in the world. It was either the morphine getting into his system or that Hidan really pissed him off that much.
Stilling the argument that Hidan's funds and practically those of every Akatsuki member was in Kakuzu's palm and could be deleted at any time (with the endorsement of Pein, of course), Kakuzu instead reached out and snagged a handful of Hidan's hair, dragging the Jashinist into the kitchen and then plunking his ass down firmly in a seat. Before the man could do anything to resist Kakuzu, the taller man already had a needle filled with a mild tranquilizer to quell any fights that might arise from this rough treatment.
Although the usage of a tranquilizer might be seen as overkill in some eyes, Kakuzu would only flatly argue that he was creating his own "airbag".
Goddamn morphine.
To say that the sudden manhandling was a surprise would be a complete understatement. It had been Hidan's intention to snark at the bastard and eventually slam the door in his face so the fact that he was being led along by the hair no less, it took just a brief moment for his brain to compute.
"What the FUCK shithead! I'm not some broad to be lugged around by the hair you prick, so let me go!" He struggled against the grip and nearly fell off the chair in his attempt to get away, the prospect of being tended to by the less then merciful asshole not exactly high on his list. A fist to the jaw was one thing, being subjected to the bastard's stitching fetish...a whole other ballgame. He was just about risk the loss of his hair when his head was unceremoniously yanked to the side and he felt the not-so-gentle tell-tale piercing of skin. Foul curses continued to pour forth from the younger man's vulgar mouth even as the tranquilizer worked its way through his system, slowing his struggles and adding a distinctive slur to filth that fell from his lips.
"I fuckin' swear, I'm gonna rip your fuckin' black heart out and watch the piece of shit stop beatin' in my bare fuckin' hand before I send your damned soul screamin' into the deepest pit of hell you fucker..." The vulgarities continued on until they were nothing more then an unrecognizable mumble and the drug relaxed his muscles enough so that his head lolled forward, leaving him vulnerable to Kakuzu's ministrations.
Upon hearing the garbage coming out of Hidan's mouth still to an incomprehensible string of muffled sounds, Kakuzu stepped away from the man to retrieve the items he needed to stitch together those gouges. The needle was laid aside just in case for another dosage that would be needed, in which Kakuzu would be more than happy to give Hidan. He laid the thread along with antiseptic gel and rubbing alcohol on the table while he dragged a chair over, purposely letting the legs of the chair to drag over Hidan's feet before resting it next to him.
"Sorry, did you say something?"
Blood-stained hands shoved Hidan's already fallen head forward, causing the front of the face to come in a sudden contact with the table with a sickening smack! Kakuzu twisted open the alcohol bottle and poured a good amount of the clear liquid over the vertical injuries, which would no doubt cause a considerable amount of pain for anyone, but Hidan seemed to take it fairly well enough. Besides, didn't he love this sort of stuff?
Needless to say, the man was less careful and rough around patching up Hidan than he did himself. The thin silver needle viciously dug in and out at a rapid pace, pulling along with it the thin black thread. Every stitch or so another dab of antiseptic gel was spread over the wound before it was sealed tight with the black thread. Kakuzu couldn't count how many yards of string he had already used on the man since the day Hidan was assigned to him, but he remembered it was enough to cause a spike in financial resources usage in medical supplies.
Orders or no orders...Hidan was going to kill the mother-fucker when he could manage to move his limbs again. But for now, he was just going to have to satisfy himself with doing it in his mind, adding each indignity he was forced to suffer to a tally so the prissy bastard would get everything back that he felt so damned confident to dole out with himself in such a state.
Talk about low.
Perhaps had his mouth and pretty much anything else had mobility it wouldn't be nearly as bad, hell, maybe even down right enjoyable really but when it was done like this? Not so much. Especially not when everything was dulled with whatever the fucker had given him nor when he was being forced to play puppet to Kakuzu's weird fuckin' fetish with that black thread of his...something that was whipped out with a frightening haste at the first given opportunity.
As it were, Hidan could barely manage to turn his head to the side so he could breath around the blood flowing from his nose from his not so graceful face-dive onto the table top. Doing his best to shift his features into a scowl, Hidan managed to somehow collect enough blood in his mouth to spray at the bastard in retaliation for bloodying his nose for the second time that day.
"Fucker, if yer pla'n nurse leas' you coul'do s'wear th'outfit," he slurred, attempting to enunciate as best he could and failing miserably.
Kakuzu only paid the mildest interest in the mumbling mouth that was still yammering about things Kakuzu would normally kill someone when said. Instead, he focused on the last inch of skin needed to be sewn up. The needle "slipped" from his fingers and embedded itself into the exposed part of the wound. Plucking it out with a hint of ignorance at this painful mistake, Kakuzu kept in the urge of smashing Hidan's face into the tabletop again. Finally with the last stitch in place, Kakuzu yanked the string straight and clipped it with his teeth, tying it up before finishing it entirely.
Only then did he allow himself the pleasure to cuff Hidan's head, pounding him into the table again. "I don't play dress-up." Needle and thread hovered hesitantly around Hidan's blood-covered lips for a moment before moving way. Gathering the materials, Kakuzu replaced them in the cabinet before shuffling around the miscellaneous cans and pulling two out for "dinner".
Fingers twitched with irritation at the whole damned scenario as Hidan bit back the groan that wanted to bubble forth as he once again was forced to kiss the tabletop, the smug bastard hovering long enough to threaten him silently with that fucking needle of his before wandering off to bang around in the kitchen.
Oh yes, there would be some hardcore retribution for this shit. And while it may definitely not be one of his stronger points, Hidan reserved his limited reservoir of patience for such an occasion. Kakuzu would likely be anticipating an attack as soon as he was able, but Hidan was content to wait. The fucker would never see it coming and the anticipation of sweet revenge was enough of a reason for his blood slicked lips to slide into a pleased grin.
Slowly but surely he was finding himself able to move as the narcotic wore off, ecstatic when he was finally able to shakily push himself off the table, his forearms bracing him up to rest momentarily before sitting himself upright of his own accord. The fresh stitches pulled as he moved, the itchy feeling of the thread combined with the not-so-tender manner that they'd been applied already being felt through the haze of the drug. As he brought his hand up to pinch at the bridge of his nose in a vain attempt to staunch the blood flow, Hidan glared at the innocent looking syringe that brought him a good mess of this trouble. While it would have been amusing to have snuck up behind the godless bastard and stick his ass and leave him there, Hidan's ability at stealth was still almost nonexistent so instead he satisfied himself with knocking it to the floor to crush underneath the leg of his chair to ensure the bastard wouldn't have another opportunity to dope him up.
"Hey, Martha Fuckin'-Stewart, how 'bout just fuckin' callin' out for somethin', I don't feel like any that gruel shit tonight. It's the least you can fuckin' do ya bastard.
On that day, Kakuzu could remember actually seeing Pein rather than being ordered through the indirect forms of communication. Things were quiet, silent, and serious like always, except he had the sweat that slicked down his back when he met the leader of the Akatsuki face-to-face. It was hot that day and he failed to dress any lighter than his usual dark drab, yet Pein just stood there in the same heat as cool as anything could be. The threats were subtle and smooth and yet the ramifications the man had promised to deliver to Kakuzu, if he discovered that another partner had died in any "accidental" ways, was not.
If it wasn't for the sake of Pein's words and avoiding the said ramifications, Kakuzu would've killed Hidan without a doubt.
Accidentally, of course.
A voice dragged him through the recesses of his mind again, digging through the drapes of morphine for a few seconds before Hidan's words made sense to Kakuzu. Looking down, Kakuzu growled in frustration at the demolished can in his right hand, the crushed object digging into the flesh of his palm, drawing out blood. It seemed that unconsciously, the can of soup had been used to take out the annoyance and murder intent that always built up now and then in Kakuzu's mind.
"I should've sewn your tongue to the roof of your mouth," Kakuzu scowled, reaching for the phone and brushing the soup contents off of his hands and onto a dirty rag on the table. The cut wasn't deep but blood was pouring out all the same. It was a wonder that either of them lived to see the next day, seeing the vast amounts of blood they lost everyday over trivial things.
The tell-tale chirping of telephone buttons being pressed had Hidan grinning beneath his hand, though there was no denying he was curious as to what the odd crunching sound had been moments before.
"Something spicy, none of that bland shit or it defeats the purpose," he shot towards the kitchen, something the bastard would do to spite him regardless. Blatantly ignoring the muttered threat to his overly active mouth, Hidan slowly pulled himself up from the chair not necessarily caring about the smeared blood he left in his wake as he made his way to the bathroom slowly, steadily cursing the last vestiges of the tranquilizer from allowing him to move normally. It was with a great amount of irritation that Hidan scrubbed the blood that stained the lower half of his face and neck, gingerly testing his already bruised nose for any broken or fractured bones. That irritation increased greatly seeing the sheer amount of obscene black thread that decorated his torso, his neck, everywhere there was skin there were stitches.
Fuck, if this shit kept up much longer he'd be looking like that bastard, not exactly a thrilling prospect by any stretch of the imagination.
Flexing and rolling his muscles in front of the mirror there was a near silent hiss that whistled past his lips, an odd mix of pain and the sweet pleasure it brought with it, his minds eye already seeing past the many scrapes and bruises earned this day to the new lines of scars that would litter his body. He supposed that he could count the small blessing that Kakuzu had for whatever reason, forgone the removal of any extra organs to replace those that he had destroyed earlier, something the bastard could have easily done with Hidan's forced incapacitation like he'd always threatened to.
Oh well, there was always the next time.