[ THREAD ]

[holyish]

Who: Hidan & Kazama
Where: Yakuza HQs
When: The day of Belial's auction
Summary: "FUCK MAN YOU EXPLODED" "YEAH MAN I KNOW LOL"
Rating: R?
Other: No shut up

Comments

[sagittariinae]

Kazama didn't hear Hidan's words. Didn't need to hear them, of course -- he spent enough time with Hidan to know that they would have been composed 50% of swear words, 50% of pointless raging that would amount to nothing in the end -- but that wasn't the point. His head felt heavy, his thoughts sluggish, and there was an odd twinge of mixed emotions at the back of his throat. (I feel like I'm dying, he thought. I'm clearly in no danger here, and there is no threat to me. But I feel like I'm dying.)

The acute sensation of impending death was in the middle of slowly spreading down his spine, pooling just around his lungs and coiling about his heart, when the door burst open. And Kazama looked over blearily -- realizing only then that he was leaning heavily against the wall to stay standing. Hidan's face blurred in and out of focus, and Kazama took a deep breath before deadpanning at him -- his words slurring. "-- don't -- just come in like that --"

(What was the point of saying that, he thought to himself. There was no point to that. I wasted words. I never waste words. -- I feel strange. My spine is eating itself.) Knees buckling, he slid lower down the wall, one hand gripping at his chest. Something invisible and intangible had stabbed clean through his torso, and had ripped out chunks of flesh, leaving him bleeding invisibly. (Somewhere, I am dead and dying.) Hidan's face blurred into a smudged shape at the side of his vision as Kazama sagged to one knee.

What happened next came entirely without warning. The back of his jacket suddenly tore open, heralded by an explosion of feathers. Black and somewhat scaly feathers -- the same feathers that coated the wings that tore out of his back and arched around his body like a halo. Sticky strings of blood dripped between the feathers, and Kazama doubled over, trickles of black spilling past his lips. (I'm going to vomit up my guts.) Faintly, he remembered that Hidan was still in the room, and he made to tell Hidan to leave -- (you don't need to see this) -- but it was difficult to speak with the way his mouth was drowning in black blood as his insides rearranged themselves.

[holyish]

For once in his fucking life, Hidan looked bemused at Kazama. Yeah, he knew Kazama well enough to know that the asshole wouldn’t speak pointless like that ( -- Shit, Hidan knew that. There was no point in Kazama saying that, it was too fucking late now, because Hidan was already in the room, and he was already blabbering.) but, but when he actually saw Kazama convulsing, slumped against the wall before sliding down it and basically vomiting his guts up, and instantly Hidan muttered after his long anthem of swearing rage, " -- Fuck."

It took him a bit to actually register that his partner might be in pain and seriously? Seriously if this was on a job then Hidan wouldn’t have given a shit. A job is a job, and sure, Hidan would daily bash the fuck out of Kazama just for his own amusement. But there was no trigger here, no reason why Kazama would be puking all this twisted black blood (Did some asshole poison him? Can you even poison him? And if so, why the fuck didn’t Hidan think of it before?)

However, when the large black new appendages had, literally, exploded from Kazama’s back did Hidan make any movement to actually assist him, "Shit man what the fuck!?" Dashed movements had Hidan rushing towards Kazama and getting down on his knees, "Oi the fuck just happened dude -- " Word vomit just continued to spew from his mouth as he watched Kazama basically bleed to death -- was it hilarious? Well, actually, yeah. It was, and Hidan had to let out a amused snort. "See you asshole I knew you needed me."

But suddenly there was realization that words weren’t enough to actually help his partner. And in a instantly he stood up and towered over Kazama’s back - meeting face-to-face these large-ass wings. "Alright, you know what? Because I’m such a good nice guy I’m going to help you, if you fucking say anything I will kill you and put you out of your misery. Got that!?" Though usually Hidan’s threats were always bordering on between joking and serious, he was fucking dead serious here. And putting Kazama out of his misery was actually merciful to Hidan. " -- Shit what the fuck am I doing." He muttered as he took off hid hoodie and shoved it right in Kazama’s face to stop the bastard from puking before ripping off the material from his back.

[sagittariinae]

Hacking, wretching, feeling his guts twist in his stomach, Kazama felt a twinge of deja vu spark at the back of his mind. Something like this had happened before -- something painfully similar to this. It was hard to think of what exactly that was, though, when he realized that he'd just grown wings. If this were in some other context, he might have come close to laughing -- it was such a ridiculous thought, like something out of a B-grade horror flick. Vomiting blood and growing wings -- a terribly constructed movie monster.

His thoughts were wandering, driven off-center by the wrenching pain in his chest, and he'd assumed that Hidan had left, probably disgusted -- looked up blearily, startled, when Hidan knelt down beside him. His wings had folded halfway, dripping viscous strings of blood across the floor, and Kazama felt dirty -- reached out with a shaking hand to shove Hidan away. (You don't need to see this.)

The handful of Hidan's hoodie mashed into his face at precisely that moment, though, and he ended up grabbing Hidan's shoulder instead, gripping hard. Not really sure of what he wanted, anyway. It was hard to breathe past the fabric covering his face, and he shoved it away with a trembling hand, taking in a ragged lungful of air. "-- are you trying to suffocate me --"

It would have been a snide comment if it weren't for the fact that a faint chill had wrapped around his skin when his jacket was ripped off. The wings were protruding from his shoulder blades, bristling with black feathers and scraps of torn flesh. Trying to keep down the next glut of black blood that crawled up his throat, he shook his head. "-- what're you doing." One hand still gripping hard at Hidan's shoulder.

[holyish]

It wasn’t like Hidan was a goddamn doctor -- he didn’t know what the hell he was doing when he shoved the cloth rather rashly into Kazama’s face. But fuck, he had to start somewhere right? And the whole deal with the wings and shit was pretty damn unbelievable, mainly when they came from Kazama; Hidan just thought he was just another weak piece of shit, but really? Yeah, it freaked him out. Not so much as fearing Kazama, but just thinking the whole thing was pretty damn weird -- mainly from some tightass faggot like this plank.

His frame was smudged with blood as he tossed the hoodie away and hissed, "Asshole, you owe me." For what? For shoving the material in Kazama’s face, or for Kazama owing him a new hoodie? Well whatever. The grip around his shoulder was a harsh clasp and he winced, feeling as though his arm was going to be torn from his shoulder and he backed off, delivering a punch to Kazama’s face before standing upright.

"Seriously what the hell am I meant to do!? Just stand here and watch you fucking -- god, I have no idea what the hell you’re doing!" Walking to the mini-fridge (One that was issued in every taken office) he opened it, unsurprised by the array of energy drinks and energy bars that he snorted at. And taking a bottle of water as well as scrounging around for a first aid kit -- wherever the hell it was -- he knelt back beside Kazama, "Stay the fuck still for a minute, jeez."

A simple snap of the cap of the bottle and Hidan was already dumping the whole contents along Kazama’s back - half-assly clearing Kazama’s spine and torn newly-opened flesh and muscle with the fluid before he reached for the first aid kit, "Just -- shut the fuck up." His first initial thought was, what the fuck am I doing?, but he only let out a frustrated grunt as he wrapped the gauze around the base of the wings, along Kazama’s abdomen and making a cross-section so at least most of the bleeding was stopped.

[sagittariinae]

At least it felt like his organs had stopped shifting around once they'd made room for bones to grind and twist, adapting to the wings that had suddenly burst out of his flesh. And his lungs had stopped spazzing. Though the breaths he took were harsh and wet with the residues of black blood and bile, they were at least regular, and his wings trembled with each heaving lungful of air he sucked in. The pain in his chest had also stopped tearing through his system, instead deteriorating into a duller throb through his limbs.

-- and it was here that he realized where he'd been through this before. (The Mad Hatter. The first time I made the contract, it had been like this. Something must have happened.) A wracking cough, clearing his throat of the blood -- Kazama was just about to look up when the punch to the face knocked him down, and he was too tired to resist -- simply crumpled to the floor, one hand clawing across the floor as he felt his wings stretch out and solidify their bone structure.

The splash of water across his back was a welcome relief, and he shuddered, letting out a sharp breath. "-- I'm fine now." His voice was shaky, but no longer tight with pain. And though he was limp as Hidan wound the bandages around him, at least he wasn't shaking any more -- the pain lingered in a dull beat that matched his heart. Bad, but tolerable. One arm half-heartedly shielding his face to keep his expression hidden lest it show anything (fear, pain, anger, weakness), he coughed. "-- it's over now."

[holyish]

With his fingertips delved deeply into the sockets of new orifices that exploded from within Kazama’s back, Hidan withdrew his fingers and sloppily tied the bandages with enough effort that it could be -- well -- called effort. The bandages were tight, to the point of suffocating, but that would’ve been good enough to stop the blood from leaking all over the floor. He brushed his bloodied and sticky fingers along his jeans and let out a small annoyed noise when the gestures in turn smeared blood over the material.

Running a crimson-stained hand through his platinum hair, Hidan sat opposite Kazama, basically waiting for the other one to kick the bucket or at least some indication that Kazama wasn’t going to screw it over. But great job the bastard did, because even if the words were meant to be some sort of reassurance to Kazama’s condition, Hidan didn’t believe shit of it. And with the hand that hid the other’s visage, Hidan just rolled his eyes and muttered sarcastically, "Yeah dude, perfectly fucking fine -- puking up blood is just a daily thing huh?"

Still, he couldn’t keep his eyes off the wings. Yeah, they were freaky -- but pretty cool, pretty gay. Like Kazama had transformed into some teenage girl’s wetdream. His back against the side of the desk, a few feet away from Kazama and his mouth wavered into a frown, stern as he scratched his head. And fuck, what was he meant to do now? "Alright you asshole. You’re going to tell me what the fuck is going on. When I first met you, you were just some mortal pussy. And fuck, now you’re -- man what the hell are you?"

[sagittariinae]

Honestly, Kazama couldn't tell whether Hidan was trying to help him or kill him. Between the fingers scraping at the torn flesh and the bandages tied tight enough to hurt, he was almost tempted to think it was the latter -- but on the other hand, this was one of the few times Hidan had seemed to care at all. Staying slumped on the floor for a few more moments while he stabilized his breathing and fixed his expression back into its usual blank, Kazama felt the throbbing pain subside -- slowly lessening, then fading into a sharp tingle down his spine. -- like the time he'd first been turned immortal. (What's happened this time?)

As much as he would have liked to immediately pretend that he was completely fine, it was a lot more difficult than he thought -- and since Hidan had witnessed this mess, there was probably no use in trying to mask the effects of the transformation. Rolling onto his side with a grunt, he lay there like that for a few minutes, arm slumped over his eyes to shield them -- the lights felt too bright. "-- this has happened before -- it's over now. I'll be fine."

The words were deadpanned without thought, and he sat up after a moment, running fingers through his hair (tangled with sweat and splatters of blood). The wings lay against his back like a pair of crows, but scalier, still damp with blood -- lighter than he would have expected. One hand hesitantly reaching up to touch the feather, he gave a tiny, wry smirk. "-- what am I?" (I don't know.) Head half-bowed, he gave a small shrug. The low exhale might have been a laugh. "I don't know. I made a contract with the Mad Hatter -- is all."

[holyish]

Whether Hidan killed or helped Kazama, he should’ve been pretty fucking grateful -- shit, he could’ve just walked off and leave that bastard all alone to deal with his problems (The thought of Kazama wanting to be alone to deal with his own shit didn’t cross his mind. Fuck, Hidan was arrogant enough to think that either choice was like a goddamn blessing from him!) The scent of rot and blood and all that disgusting shit intoxicated his senses, and soon-to-be bloodshot eyes were rubbed with the ball of his palm and he snorted in minor disgust, in irony, and he impatiently listened to Kazama’s retarded words.

Raising a eyebrow in -- what? (Being impressed? Finding Kazama a fucking idiot?) -- when he heard that Kazama actually went to the Abyss and met that twisted sick being. Hidan wasn’t going to forget what that asshole did to them in Battle Royale, and of course Hidan assumed that Kazama and it were all buddy-buddy considering what the other said. And so, he hissed slightly in disgust before scratching his head with frustration, speaking with mild spite, "Know how to pick your friends, huh? Bet you don’t even remember what that bastard did to us. Fuck man you’re twisted."

Words that were stern and in complete seriousness, very much unlike his usual babbling that consisted of rambling bullshit and word vomit. A sigh. And he slumped against the side of the desk, "Shit, I’m from the fucking Abyss and even I’m not freaking stupid enough to go and make a deal with that bitch. So what, you sold your soul to get some goddamn powers or whatever the hell?" A pause as bloodied hands smeared red-black over his face. Breathing in the metallic scent, Hidan smirked, " -- But that’s pretty fucking cool and shit. Man, you’ve got balls, seriously.”"

[sagittariinae]

Sitting up on the floor with his back hunched, one knee drawn up to his chest, Kazama distractedly spread a wing -- it was unexpectedly easy, controlling the movements in these new appendages -- and arched it around himself, bringing the feathers forward to arch before him. Running his hand down the line of feathers and the fragile bone beneath them, Kazama let out a long breath. At least before this, he'd looked human -- if he couldn't find a way to get rid of these wings as soon as possible, they'd just be a constant reminder of the fact that he was something disgusting and monster, now.

And Hidan's words made him look up for a moment, his eyes narrowed. The wing he'd outstretched, he folded back against his spine, shaking his head. "-- do you think I was any more fond of her than you?" His words were flat and almost bitter, as he pressed a hand against his forehead, fingertips pressing against his temples. "I had to go through her so-called 'game' twice."

No, that wasn't the point, here. Pressing the heel of his hand against his eyes for a moment -- letting out a rasping breath -- he paused for a moment before speaking flatly. "-- there's someone I need to kill. I needed the powers." It sounded vaguely pathetic, now that he'd said it, and he rapidly retreated back into silence as he rolled his shoulders back, his wings rustling faintly. "-- it doesn't matter."