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The Chosen	By : LindyStar Category: Naruto > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 990 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, I make no money, I stake no claim.

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“So it is said that if you know your enemies and know yourself, you can win a hundred battles without a single loss. If you only know yourself, but not your opponent, you may win or may lose. If you know neither yourself nor your enemy, you will always endanger yourself.” -Chinese proverb Kakuzu’s patience is far from infinite; time has only made him intolerant of the vague annoyances in life rather than bringing temperance. Hidan is still learning to feel out the limits and boundaries of Kakuzu’s existence, his moods hidden behind a mask, face closed off from the world, his fuse burning down behind the scenes with only guesswork to tell when he is going to blow up. Hidan always pushes the limits; pushes Kakuzu’s buttons, pushes and prods and teases until he often enough is on the receiving end of violent upheaval. They aren’t yet far enough along in their partnership for Hidan to know what is going to set Kakuzu off; he has the vague outlines of Kakuzu plotted out in blurry black and white, but there is still a lot of gray area to uncover. For certain, anything dealing with money is a surefire route to pain and discomfort, whether in the form of physical injury or sharp words and looks. Wasting money for sure is asking for trouble. Time, now, time is another matter not quite so clear-cut. Kakuzu takes his time it battle, waits things out, examines his opponents before making any move. But, he’s always rushing Hidan through his rituals, commenting in a harsh tone about how long they take and how they are behind because of the time it takes to complete them. And yet he never interrupts Hidan when he is completing his ceremonies. One might conclude from this deference that Kakuzu is being considerate of Hidan’s religion, but that is certainly not the case: Kakuzu only makes the most snide and disparaging comments when directly accosted by Hidan, and mostly he just ignores religion completely, a ‘waste of time’. Unlike Hidan, Kakuzu has a defined the parameters that make up the zealot. Not only because he is an astute observer and the younger man’s failure to completely mask his own weaknesses, but his ability to see himself in context. While it is true that Kakuzu’s temper is violent when unleashed, he has better control and restraint over his nature than the younger man. The front that Hidan puts up, the careless, wicked, devil-may-care attitude, does not fool Kakuzu at all. No stranger to concealment, he is able to read behind that boisterous façade and see the unrest. Hidan is driven by the need to constantly perform his ritualistic worship; it is like a drug to him, he needs it in an addictive, compulsive way. Kakuzu is obsessed with money in a similar manner, constantly driven to amass and gather resources to ensure his survival in the corporeal world. In this way he is able to understand and better manipulate Hidan should he so choose. For Hidan, the motivation for his actions is not only to please the God that binds his spirit to the physical realm, but for the perverse enjoyment and power he has over his victims during the sacrifices, and the physically gratifying sensation of his body being made well and whole afterwards. The essential component in this case is to remove the aspect of control over that which is the object of value- for Kakuzu that would be money, for Hidan, it is pain, specifically, the control of and how it is administered to his body. --- “Are you quite done there?” Kakuzu glances suspiciously to where Hidan has been making more noise than usual, strange soft giggling laughter. Hidan looks over with a furtive grin and slides the pike lewdly into his chest, arches his spine and licks bloody lips, his gasp of pain utterly disingenuous. Kakuzu is not one to be toyed with- to make a mockery of the Herculean effort it takes him to sit by while the zealot completes his ablutions will not be tolerated. He is on his feet in an instant, suddenly right there, and Hidan only manages to withdraw his spear halfway before Kakuzu’s hand closes around it and tears it out with a rough jerk. Hidan gives a shout at the sudden disconnection, hands and feet scrabbling in the dirt to try and boost him up to face the challenge, but he never gets up off his elbows. Hidan’s eyes widen almost comically as he sees Kakuzu bring down his arm in a violent arc to plunge the steel rod into his chest. The force of it puts Hidan flat on his back in the dirt, the metal now several feet into the earth below him. Kakuzu plants one foot squarely on Hidan’s torso, stealing his breath, and uses this as leverage to jerk the pike out. If there had been air in his lungs Hidan would have screamed, but instead his lips peel back from his teeth in silence, limbs jerking as the metal slides out of his flesh with a spatter of blood. He struggles and thrashes, frantically trying to dislodge Kakuzu, but the man is as solid as a rock pinning him down while he continues to thrust the pike again and again into Hidan’s body. Clawing at the foot and ankle pressed firmly against him, only gets a warning in the form of more weight pressing down, ribs threatening to crack with the force. Hidan can’t breathe, can’t move, can only hold on in a deathgrip and writhe feebly as Kakuzu releases his anger. The enraged man is really laying into him, the rod moving up and down in vicious stabbing motions, slamming into his body so much more forcefully than Hidan can manage on his own. It is so much better than he can do on his own, so much more: faster, harder, plunging deeper through him and into the blood-soaked soil. And Kakuzu, his large frame imposing as it towers over him, his aura angry and terrifying, eyes ablaze with bloodlust boring into him. Hidan is being built up to a level of ecstasy he seldom reaches when Kakuzu rips the pike out for the last time, letting it clatter noisily as he flings it away. Hidan’s hand follows the pike automatically, reaching out in involuntary desire. Seeing that gesture only serves to infuriate Kakuzu more, and he straddles Hidan’s chest, gathering his wrists into one broad palm and pinning them above his head and letting the other wrap firmly around Hidan’s throat. Hidan makes choking noises as Kakuzu clamps his hand down tightly. Hidan’s body is on fire, every puncture wound like a burning coal, his lungs ablaze with the need to draw breath, his wrists and throat being crushed in what feels like bands of steel. Kakuzu bears down more, and the structure of his windpipe gives way, collapsing like a smashed accordion, and Hidan feels the blood collecting in his throat, trickling down into his lungs and seeping in from the punctures, and the need to breathe is compounded by the sensation of drowning in bloody fluids. He thinks that he can’t possibly take more, that he will black out and be swept into unconsciousness as his body gives itself over to not-death and begins the process of recovery once more. But Kakuzu isn’t letting that happen- he needs this to be punishment, not facilitation. Releasing his grip from the mangled neck, Kakuzu lifts himself off Hidan, turning him onto his side so he won’t suffocate on the blood. He wrestles Hidan’s arms down and pins them behind his back, subduing the smaller man as he chokes and convulses while his throat mends itself. “F’ker, *cough* le’ me go” Hidan manages, bloody spume dripping down his chin. Kakuzu answers this by punching him in the kidney. Hard. Hidan’s face screws up in agony and he gasps through clenched teeth, curling in on himself. Bruised organs take nearly a week to heal fully. He’ll probably be pissing blood for a few days. Suddenly, this isn’t taking the direction it was before- Kakuzu is all cold brutality where before he was hot-headed rage. Hidan doesn’t like the edge of control Kakuzu is gaining. He gasps weakly for a few more seconds before Kakuzu yanks him upright, head spinning and vision blurring as his body struggles to keep blood flowing to his brain. His torso is an oil-slick of blood, the riddled holes in his chest still oozing sluggishly. Still defiant, Hidan manages to spit a bloody clot into Kakuzu’s face, expecting to infuriate the other nin. Unfortunately, Kakuzu is determined to win this, for whatever it is worth. Kakuzu wipes the blood off his face and then draws back his fist and punches Hidan in the kidney again. Hidan clenches his teeth around the whimper of pain that bubbles up, choking it down along with bile that rises with it, cringing away. “I won’t tolerate your games, Hidan” Kakuzu rumbles, implacable once more. Hidan tries to snipe out a retort but ends up gagging on blood. Kakuzu releases him to fall onto hands and knees, fighting a losing battle to the upset of his insides until he finally vomits blood and stomach acid in a hot slippery mess onto the soil. He stays with his head bent to the ground for a while, panting raggedly before glaring venomous hatred up at his waiting partner. Hidan is boiling with impotent anger; humiliated and injured. There’s really nothing he can do at this point to save face, they both know Kakuzu has won this round. But Hidan is nothing if not resilient, and he’ll just have to bide his time (that’s all he’s got, afterall) Kakuzu may have drawn a line, but Hidan isn’t giving an inch. -- A/N: This really could have been a stand alone piece rather than part of the main fic flow, but it does fit into that universe, so I kind of stuck it in there. The ending feels kind of abrupt, like it wants to be more, but eh- I'll be going on vacation and will be swamped at work, so I wanted to post now while I actually have a spare moment. The initial stabbity part draws a heavy influence from "Strange Love" by AkatsukiBoi (on ff.net), some nice impalement there, in more than one way *waggles eyebrows*. And, that beginning quote is from "The Art of War"
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The Chosen