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How to Train Your Jashinist	By : TheRedTora Category: Naruto > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 1897 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do NOT own the anime Naruto or any characters from it. In no way am I making money from this fanfic.

Chapter List
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How to Train Your Jashinist: Chapter 3

Warmth.

Drip.

Drip.

Pain.

Crimson pain.

Drip, drip.

White hot pain flooded over Nara Shikamaru's body. Something cold, hard, and metallic felt heavy as it sat pierced through flesh and muscle. It had grazed his collar bone on its way through him, flaking away the surface of the calcium rich mineral. The pain, seemingly infecting every molecule of his body, created a new sensation. A deep dull numbness. It was a strange sensation, this numbness, for while he could still feel the grittiness of the ground under his head, he couldn't rightly feel his body. His wound was nearly painless. The fibers of muscle under his skin twitched rapidly, but he couldn't register it. All he could feel was a coldness that even the most frigid winter in Konoha couldn't compare to. Coldness and bright white behind his eye lids.

That was all there was.

Then there was a shift over him. Strange how he could feel that too through his numbness. Slowly he began to become more aware of this…thing over him. It was a heavy thing, laying over much of his body. Though strongly solid, it pressed yieldingly against his torso, radiating some warmth. So it wasn't inanimate, he managed to grasp with his foggy mind; a mind that was slowly slipping to the fringes. Then he felt the heaving against him, like breathing. Fast palpitations pressing against a steadily slower one, gripped his attention just a little more thoroughly than the rest of the pieces of his observations.

Him.

Hidan.

Fight.

Surprise attack.

Pain.

Dying.

Hidan.

Something inside of Shikamaru lashed out, reaching to hang on. His eyes opened like prying lead doors off his eye balls. Those brown eyes met with two fuzzy violet purple orbs, framed in by a fleshy blob.

Violet? Why is that so familiar? The gears in his head ground out as they tried to work properly.

Shikamaru stared at this blurred, ethereal creature, and after a few moments of focusing and refocusing, he realized why he knew that color.

"H-Hidan" his actual voice rasped out.

The violet eyes that he could now make out were staring downward, pupils dilated as if under some kind of drug induced high. The moment he spoke, however, those eyes snapped up viciously to meet his own gaze. The pupils narrowed just slightly, then widened again, comparable to the focusing of cat eyes. Cold, predatory.

His own eyes widened, mimicking the eyes of his clan's deer when a pack of wolves lurked in their forest. He was about to become prey, but for a completely different reason.

Shikamaru had to do what he did best. He had to think. He had to do something. Anything!

The startling eyes he was staring back at lowered again, and then the head followed. Shikamaru struggled to see past his own nose and cheeks to see what the other was doing, but his head felt too heavy to lift.

Something warm and wet prodded around at his bloody wound. By now, all the pain had drained away, leaving only a strong uncomfortable feeling behind. The strange prodding added to the unnerving feeling. A distressed whimper crawled up Shikamaru's throat. He didn't like whatever it was that touched his pierced fleshed. It bothered him immensely.

As quickly as he felt the prodding, it left, and he could see Hidan's face again. Hidan's chest and waist soon followed, relieving the pressure on Shikamaru's lungs. The other man now stood over him, but that was not the most alarming thing.

The blood on his lips was.

Shikamaru felt his eyelids widen further impossibly. A leftover dose of adrenaline suddenly doused his bloodstream. Both hands planted on the ground, Shikamaru pushed downward to bring himself up. He began to rise, but only an inch into the motion, something held him fast to the ground.

"Nnngh!" Shikamaru gasped aloud, upon feeling the pain in his shoulder return.

Fuck! The pike!

Hidan seemed to read his thoughts, for he too looked at the pike, smirk splitting his features. The silver haired man bent his torso toward the younger on in a 90 degree angle, hand coming to rest around the handle of the pike. The smirk burst into a full on grin, one of the violet eyes winking. The hand pulled harshly.

"Fu-…Oh FUCK!" Shikamaru's high octave cry pierced through the open space, ringing around the trees, and coming back in a haunting echo.

The burning pain returned ten fold, making his body twist and spasm inward towards the wound. Shikamaru didn't know he has his eyes closed until he heard laughter, but realized he couldn't see the man laughing. Shakily, they opened again, peeking up past his uninjured shoulder at Hidan.

Contrasting black and white was now painted over the other man's body. Hidan's hips and legs were moving, dragging his feet along the ground just under him. He was drawing.

Drawing his ceremonial diagram.

Shikamaru rolled onto his back again. His mouth parted to order him to stop, but nothing was heard. He thought the order, but his mind wouldn't focus on it. It kept returning to another thought, a memory. A memory of Hidan's same ritual, but a different man. His sensei. Asuma. Who was dead.

He was dead.

He couldn't play possum this time. The blood on Hidan's mouth, in his gut. It was Shikamaru's. His.

He was seeing his death before it was even handed to him.

Hidan's arm raised upward, over his head. The straining hand held the pike in a deviously tight grip, veins protruding sickly.

Shikamaru was nothing but a sitting, quivering duck - hardly even a wiggling worm for putting on a hook as bait.

Dark eyes widened to nearly the point of popping from their sockets, before relaxing, rolling upwards, and closing.

He'd already seen his death.

---

Hidan watched as the brat's eyes widened in an almost cartoonish way. It rather pleased him, especially coming from his worst enemy. It was short lived, though, when those eyes rolled up into the boy's head into unconsciousness.

Jashin damn it! He cursed.

He wanted to see the brat watch himself as he his death came to him. See if those brown eyes did pop out once his heart exploded inside his chest. He wanted to see him while they both shared the feeling of dying.

A growl of frustration tore through Hidan's vocal chords, but he held the pose steady. His head titled skyward, bracing himself for the coming impact of sensation. The muscles of his raised arm tightened, like millions of taunt rubber bands.

Then, after taking a moment's pause to reflect his opponent, he released the pent up power of all the rubber bands, forming a strong downward arc. That power was all he needed to pierce his chest straight through to his back. The purest of all bodily piercing.

Squish.

Hidan heard the pike sink into his skin, but the feeling of it going through his beating heart didn't follow.

Violet eyes blinked, tugging silver eyebrows to join toward the middle in an expression of questioning. Letting the weight of his head pull itself downward, Hidan peered at his pike. Only about half an inch of the point was stabbed into his chest cavity. Hidan frowned.

Did the brat stop him somehow? He wondered, so he pushed on the pike. It sunk in a millimeter deeper into the flesh. His body was still his.

Not bothering to ponder on what had stopped his deathblow, Hidan pushed the weapon further.

Soon, though, he did begin to think. About why he was wasting his time inching the point closer to his heart, when he could have wrenched it back to make a clean stab. About why he failed his first thrust. Wondering if Shikamaru would jerk in agony and suffering in this prolonged piercing. Would he whimper, scream, or cry silently?

Hidan could feel his heart pumping just under the deadly point, still safe from penetration. Dragging his gaze from his task, Hidan looked over at the heap of humanity in front of him.

The boy was still, remaining under his trauma induced slumber. The face, slightly round with residual baby fat, rested laxly, showing no evidence of pain. Eyelids peacefully smooth, brows straight and parallel to the hidden orbs. Hidan cruised his gaze lower to Shikamaru's nearly button nose. Eyes tracing from the top of the gentle slope to the tip, over and over. Growing bored of that feature, his eyes leered onward to the mouth. Slightly pale, pillowy lips were parted just enough to allow air to travel in and out.

Shikamaru looked softer, innocent of his cunning expressions. He was void of malice, pain, and fear, reducing him to his basest form: A sixteen-year-old boy.

Splish.

A wince twitched at Hidan's face, tugging his attention back to his own chest. The pike was gone from the wound, having fallen to his side with his relaxed arm. The wound at his chest oozed blood, but wasn't lethal. He completely failed in killing the boy for a third time!

Growling again, Hidan flicked his pike to the ground, stomping over the source of his ire. His hands shot out to grab at the leaf nin's chunin vest. The force Hidan exerted to bring Shikamaru's face to his own, jarred the boy. Shikamaru's eyebrows knitted together gently then murmured a name.

"Hidan."

It came out softly, like a sigh.

Caught off guard, Hidan dropped the boy and jumped back. Eyes wide, he stared at the other, wondering if he imagined that. But then did he imagine himself being unable to kill the one he hated most?

"The fuck's wrong with me?!" he yelled, kicking at the ground in irritation.

Hidan's hands flung upwards to slide into his silver locks, gripping painfully. He kicked up more dust frantically as his sandals continued to gouge at the ground. The pale torso twisted randomly with the aimless trampling of its legs, until the body flung itself on its knees. Hands raked backwards out of his hair in a swift motion, pulling some strands out and mussing up his once neat hairstyle.

"Fuck!" he bellowed out.

The tirade ended with that word as Hidan found himself knelt down in front of Shikamaru's head. The boy had yet to awaken, which was surprising to his attacker. Curiously, Hidan leaned his face closer to Shikamaru's, studying him again.

Well this was just great! Not only did he fail in killing this brat many times over, but now he had no idea why. Not knowing why this was happening was mentally killing him.

Can I not kill him? Hidan wondered pitifully, Why the hell shouldn't I be able to?!

He wanted to kill the brat for making him wonder about such stupid things.

Of course I can kill him!

Yet he felt more pissed at himself than the feeling to kill him, and that pissed him off even more. Hidan could not think like Hidan.

Before he could register what he was doing, Hidan gathered up his weapons, returned to Shikamaru, and managed to sling the boy onto his back. His time spent out of the ground greatly increased amount of chakra in his body. He was steadily getting stronger and stronger. Then against his better judgment, Hidan ran in the direction they both had entered the forest from.

The movement jostled the injured Shikamaru, eliciting a mild groan of pain. The boy said another name.

"Asuma…" this time his voice sounded sad, despite his unconsciousness.

Hidan mused over what Shikamaru was dreaming about for a moment, but didn't dwell there too long. He had the strange, nagging need to get Shikamaru where he could be patched up. Glancing back at his cargo, he grumbled.

"Consider us even…for now…"

---

"Damn it, be careful with him!" Sakura shrieked.

"Bitch, you'll know when I'm hurting him," Hidan shot back after flopping a still unconscious Shikamaru on the exam table.

"What did you just call me?!"

"Shut up and fucking heal him already!" the silver haired man bellowed, his eyes bulging red.

Sakura kept her raging fists in check and brushed passed the raving zealot. Her hands hovered over Shikamaru's body as they enveloped themselves in green, searching for the wound.

"It's on his right shoulder, in case you didn't notice," Hidan pointed out in his crude voice.

The medic nin simply kept sweeping over her comrade's body, but did reply, "I know that, baka, I'm checking to see if you injured him anywhere else."

"He started it…" Hidan lied, knowing full well who initiated the out of control spar.

Sakura again ignored Hidan, instead setting to work on healing Shikamaru's shoulder. That was when she noticed how much blood he had lost. While his artery was spared, the damage broke many secondary blood vessels. The blood had dried and clotted, sealing the wound, but enough blood had been drained to warrant a blood transfusing.

"I need AB blood, stat!" Sakura called out the medics outside the room.

Moments later there was a flurry of activity. A clear bag of crimson, a needle to the arm, a tube connecting the two, blood pumping from plastic to flesh. The color was slowly and surely returning to Shikamaru's skin, painting it a healthier tone of peach. Hidan could only watch in morbid fascination at the blood traveling, the metamorphosis.

A hand on his shoulder snapped Hidan out of his reverie, and he looked over to see the pink haired medic at his side. A stern expression marred her face, multiplying her already annoying bossiness. Hidan glared down at her.

"Don't think about hurting him again, or I'll break more than your pretty boy face," She warned, "I don't care if you're immortal, I'll break every bone in your body 'til you wish you could die."

Hidan cackled at the girl's ignorance. "I wish everyday I for my death. When Jashin-sama decides it is my time to join him, I will be happy. But the holy day has not yet arrived."

Sakura frowned at the Jashinist's logic, shaking her head. She turned and exited the room, but left the door open, her hearing keen, should she have to rush back in.

The priest glanced back at the resting Shikamaru, eyes drawn back into tracing his features. This time, though, Hidan caught himself and he whipped his head away.

Deciding Jashin was displeased with him, Hidan chose to offer his penance for not completing his ritual.

---

Something soft replaced the hard earth under him, Shikamaru noticed somewhere inside his subconscious. Instead of the sun beating down on him, a buzzing artificial white light glowed behind his closed eyelids. He could feel his shoulder again, but now it was only a throbbing ache. The cold numbness had disappeared too, letting Shikamaru feel his own body again completely.

Vague memories of his battle with Hidan flashed through his mind, then he remembered how the other man was about to end him. There was no way he could have survived that, and yet he could feel his wound. Unless…he was somehow in hell.

Shikamaru's torso sprung up from the bed, pulling his shoulder painfully. He winced, and grabbed at the wound, then froze. His surroundings were coming into focus for him, telling him he was in a small hospital room.

I survived?

"Oi, must you be so damn loud, I'm prayin' here," a voice below his bed announced.

Shikamaru thought he was going insane.

"Hidan?" he asked, peering over the side of his bed. His body gave a start.

It was indeed Hidan, laying supine on the floor within his bloody diagram, pike through his heart.

"Oh god, this is hell…" Shikamaru gave a detached whimper.

"The fuck you talking about? Is that how you thank me for saving your pathetic heathen life?"

Shikamaru paused in his panic. "Wha-?"

"You heard me, you pineapple head!" Hidan said, exasperated at the prospect of repeating himself.

Hidan didn't kill me? Hidan saved me? Shikamaru rolled that idea around in his head, mentally tasting it, seeing if it wasn't some spoiled lie.

Why would he be sent to hell anyway? He lived his life as a good, albeit lazy shinobi, but good nonetheless. And there was no way an immortal like Hidan would be in this hell with him, right? So Hidan attacked him, planned to kill him, but didn't. Still Shikamaru wasn't quite fond of being ran through with a pike, whether he was going to die or not. If that happened to him, he didn't want to even consider what Hidan might do to his comrades. He had power over Hidan, and he was going to enforce it!

Shikamaru leaned back over his bed, glaring venom at the man on the floor. The leaf nin didn't know if this kind of order would work for this enslavement jutsu, but he had to try.

"Hidan! I, Shikamaru, your master, order you to never touch me again in anger! Nor will you attack my allies! You will only have free reign to attack the enemies of this army! I am your master and you will not disobey those orders!"

Hidan blinked up at him, surprised by the boy's outburst, but then glared angrily up at him. Pike still in his chest, Hidan stood to strike out at Shikamaru.

The priest's fist clenched, but never even left his side. Hidan growled like an angry bear, while Shikamaru merely smirked in triumph.

"You insufferable little shit! I should have killed you when I had the chance!!" Hidan screamed.

Footsteps from outside echoed down the hall, then skidded to a stop in front of the doorway.

"What's going on?" Sakura yelled, before her brain could catch up with her eyes.

After a short delay, she acknowledged that Shikamaru was in fact awake and fine. Hidan, on the other hand, was covered in blood and stabbed completely through with a stake.

Never mind him being immortal, seeing anyone with a mortal wound and shrugging it off would weird out just about anyone. Sakura really wished she skipped eating her sandwich those five minutes ago.
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How to Train Your Jashinist