Work Text:
“Welcome in. What can I get you?”
“Hello; would you like to hear about our lord and savior, Jashin-sama?”
Hidan blinked, violet eyes wide and focused on the beaming pink-haired girl before him. There was a portly man behind her, face contorted in equal bewilderment. “Uh…What?”
“I'd like to take a moment to discuss Jashin-sama's way of life with you.”
He furrowed his brow, feeling like his brain was short-circuiting with every word she spoke. What a fucking looney. “Ma'am, this a Wendy's First Kitchen.”
She clicked her tongue. “Yes, I'm aware of that.”
“Then what the hell are you talking about?”
There was a line forming behind her, the customers visibly more and more irritated with the wait, some he could hear grumbling complaints. It was lunch time, and the rush was flooding in. He glanced behind him, catching the disapproving glare of his manager.
“Listen, Hidan,” she said, bringing his focus back to her. The hair on the back of his neck raised in alarm; did she just use his name? Must’ve read the nametag. Don’t be stupid. “I'm here because I was told I needed to come speak with you. You're too special to be rotting away doing this menial shit.”
“Hey, buddy!” the man behind her shouted, indignant. “Move your stupid girlfriend along! I'm on my break!”
“You listen, lady,” he growled lowly, meeting her emerald gaze squarely. “I don't know who you are, and I definitely don't know what the fuck you're talking about, but I am not getting fired because of you.” He gestured angrily at the register. “Either order something or get the hell out of my face.”
She huffed, cutting her eyes over her shoulder at the growing din of the line, people shouting at her to hurry up and move out of the way. She looked at him, unspoken challenge in the way her eyes sparkled. “Fine,” she conceded, making it a point to step to the side. “But this isn't over. I'm not leaving until you listen to me.”
“Whatever,” he muttered, choosing to put the strange encounter from his mind as he apologized to the man, ignoring his insulting barbs, fingers flying over buttons as he took the order. He could still feel the hard stare of his boss, no doubt pissed about the delay, the metrics for the shift likely fucked. He sighed under his breath; the last thing he needed was another write-up.
The line moved as quickly as he could move it, taking time to apologize to every customer for the extended wait. Once it was cleared, he set about restocking bags and cups, assisting co-workers with handing out orders. He turned to exit into the lobby when he was stopped by an irate call of his name.
“Hidan!”
He winced, swiftly smoothing his features into practiced politeness as he wheeled around. Oh, fuck me! “Yes, Danzo-san?”
“What the hell was that?!” the old man demanded, frothy spittle forming in the corners of his wrinkly mouth.
He threw his hands up in surrender. “I don’t know her, sir, I swear.”
Wrinkly skin divotted further as the man frowned. “Well, for someone you ‘don’t know’,” he snarked, making mocking air quotes. “You certainly allowed her to ruin our lunch record!”
“I-”
“Also, don’t think I didn’t notice you’re out of uniform compliance.” He crossed his arms, still glaring, always glaring when it came to him. “Just for that, you get bathroom duty today.”
He shook his head, caught off guard. “Uniform compliance?” He swept a hand at his body, covered by the baggy, grease-stained uniform, from the too-small hat to the slip-resistant shoes. “I have everything on!”
Danzo tapped the right side of his chest with one bony finger condescendingly. He glanced down, noting the absence of his nametag. Shit. Not again!
Muttering an apology, he made to slink to the back to grab the designated cleaning supplies for the bathroom. Danzo halted him with a raised hand. “Actually, clock out and take your break,” he directed, visible eye narrowed. “I expect you to get that girl out of here before you come back.”
Begrudgingly, he stomped to the register, tapping his code onto the screen in irritation. Once confirmed he was off the clock, he tore open the ‘Employee Only’ door that led to the lobby, beelining for the pink-haired nuisance, situated in a back corner booth, staring into her phone screen. With the pressure of a lunch rush over, he racked his mind, attempting to recall if he had ever seen or interacted with her before. A person with pink hair seemed difficult to forget, especially one with such wacky views. Drawing a blank and electing not to dwell on it, he ripped off his hat and reached up to remove his nametag, only to be reminded he forgot it today.
The thought gave him pause: If he didn’t have his nametag, and he was positive he’d never seen her before today, then how did this crazy bitch know his name?
When she saw him approaching, she perked up, setting her phone down atop the table. He cautiously sat across from her, eyeing her with obvious suspicion.
“Finally!” she exclaimed, rolling her eyes. “I was getting so bored out here. Did you quit this fucking shithole yet?” She scanned the lobby with disgust, like being here was beneath her.
“No,” he replied, clipped, hiding his discomfort with annoyance. “And I will not be quitting; I need this job.” He met her gaze squarely. “And I also need you to kindly fuck off.”
She scoffed loudly, leaning back into the booth with crossed arms. “I’m not going anywhere until you agree to come with me, Hidan.”
“Okay, lady,” he all but growled. “How the hell do you know my name? I would remember meeting a psycho like you.”
“Cute.” Her nose wrinkled, like she was the one offended. “I told you already, dumbass: I’m here because I was commanded to be.”
Not this again. “By this ‘Jashin-sama’?”
“Correct.”
“Who even is that?”
“Jashin-sama is the deity of destruction and death.”
What the fuck. “Uh…Huh. And you…” He trailed off as he searched for the right word. “Worship him?”
“Yes; I am incredibly close with him, actually.” She preened, leaning toward him again. “I take my relationship with Jashin-sama very seriously, which is why he came to me while I was meditating after a sacrifice and informed me it was my responsibility to bring our prophet back to him.”
Should I be calling the looney bin here? He heaved a sigh. I don’t get paid enough for this shit. “And this prophet is…?”
“You, Hidan.” She let the proclamation hang a beat before continuing. “You are our lost prophet.”
He clicked his tongue. “You know, I already thought you were out there, lady-”
“Sakura.”
“Whatever. But now?” He indicated her person with a loosely waved hand. “Now I know you’re drinking some weird fucking Kool-Aid.”
“Mock me all you want, but I know what I was told.” She gave him a calculating once-over. “Though, I’ll be frank: I don’t exactly see it. Our lost prophet is said to be awe-inspiring and brimming with radiance. You, on the other hand…”
He sputtered in mildly-contained outrage. “I’m not gonna sit here and let you judge me when you should be looking into your own mirror!” He stood, slapping both palms onto the table, boring into her placid stare. “I’ll say this once: I think you’re insane and need professional help. I’m not going anywhere with you, so leave and don’t come back. Bye.” Not waiting for a response, he stormed back to behind the counter, pointedly clocking back in. Glowering from across the room, he watched as she rose from the table as well, primly striding to and out the double, glass doors of the restaurant without a glance back. Proud of his hard work, he trudged to collect the needed cleaning supplies, grumbling all the way to the bathrooms.
[The first sacrifice in his honor was given that night.]
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[This space is empty, a void in nowhere. Noiseless. Vacant. Black.]
Were you successful?
I was able to make contact, but he was…Resistant.
Surely that wasn’t enough to deter you.
He said he had no idea what I was talking about. [Hesitation, trepidation; the understanding that this could be considered blasphemous.] My lord, were you perhaps…Mistaken?
[An ominous silence rings throughout the desolate space. Fear settles in as the temperature appears to drop.]
Are you questioning me, child?
[The threat is implied; like frightened prey, the overwhelming need to shrink away made the words stumble.] Of c-course not, my lord. You know no one is more anxious for The Prophet to return than me! It’s just…He doesn’t seem to fit the role...
Your only concern is to follow what I tell you. Go back and do better.
[Final. Resolute. A divine command.]
But sir-!
YOU WILL NOT DISOBEY ME IF YOU VALUE YOUR LIFE!
[n this place where nothing truly existed, everything shook.]
Yes, sir! I will obey.
Do not return to me until you have fulfilled ALL of your duties, servant.
…Or else…
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The next day was a closing shift, which Hidan found he minded the least because the night manager was cool as long as you got your shit finished, and the other crew members that worked nights were mostly stoners. Danzo also left at 4:30, so he only had to deal with the grumpy old bastard for half an hour. Trudging through the front doors, he shifted the strap of his backpack, casually waving at Kiba standing at the register.
“Hey, Hidan!” Kiba called, a teasing grin splitting his face. “Don’t look now, but your girlfriend is back.”
He froze, eyes wide. “What?” He followed Kiba’s pointed finger to the back corner of the lobby. Sat in the same booth was the pink-haired girl from the day prior. “Oh, fuck me! Why is she here?!”
The brunette shrugged. “I don’t know, but she ordered something today.”
“Has Danzo seen her?”
His co-worker shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
He breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank fuck; okay.” He glanced up at the clock briefly before returning his attention to Kiba. “I got a few minutes, so I’m gonna go talk to her and get her to leave. I don’t need Danzo on my ass today.” He heard the brunette throw a nonchalant ‘good luck’ at his back as he made his way to the table. “What the fuck are you doing?” he demanded, glaring.
She was unbothered, tossing a chicken nugget into her mouth, making direct eye contact. “Hello to you, too.”
“I told you to get lost.”
“And I told you that’s not possible.”
He huffed, fretting at the thought that Danzo could catch her any moment. “Alright, look, lady-”
“Sakura.”
“Sakura,” he parroted, somewhat sarcastically. “If my boss catches you out here, he’s gonna have my ass for lunch. I’m not kidding when I say I need this job, okay? So…Please?” He wasn’t too proud to beg, he decided. Maybe she would feel sorry for him. “Just…Go.”
Her face softened, lined with almost-guilt. “Listen, I get what you’re saying, but this is literally life or death for me.” She gestured broadly at the food. “I bought a meal, I’m sitting over here quietly, and I promise I won’t disturb you while you work. If your boss has a problem with a paying customer, I’ll report his ass to Corporate.”
He considered her words, hopeful. “And you promise you’ll leave me alone?”
She smiled. “As long as you’re clocked in, sure.”
He was silent, debating if he believed her or not. “Okay,” he eventually conceded. Not like I have a choice, right? “Thanks, I guess.”
“No problem,” she replied, taking a sip of her soda. “You’ll come see me, though? On your break?”
He blinked, caught off guard by the request. “Uhh…Sure?”
“Great! See you then!”
Peculiar interaction concluded, he hurried to get clocked in and set to getting everything stocked for the upcoming dinner rush, replaying the conversation with the lady Sakura in his mind.
“Hidan!” He stopped, momentarily forgetting Danzo was even still in the store. He sighed, facing the irate store manager. “I thought I told you to run that annoyance out of here!”
“I did, sir. She just…Came back.” He rushed to continue before Danzo could speak, feeling strangely compelled to defend her. “But she bought food today! Doesn’t that mean we should just treat her like any other customer?”
Danzo’s eye was narrowed so much, it was barely open. He looked between him and Sakura out in the lobby, then back to him. “...Fine,” he agreed, wholly reluctantly. He brightened in relief, only to be shot down by his next words. “But the moment she steps out of line, I am calling the police.” He wagged a slim, bony finger. “I will not have some low-life, degenerate friend of yours tarnishing my establishment! That goes for any other riffraff you think you’re going to try and bring here. Understood?”
He bit his tongue, reminding himself he did indeed need this job. “Yes, sir. Understood.”
“Get to work.”
Danzo stole away to the manager’s office in the back, pointedly shutting the door. He sighed, glad for the confrontation to be over, and proceeded to return to his duties.
When the old man left, the vibe of the shift changed from tense to relaxed, the crew members able to chat more freely. Sakura had not left her booth, honoring her word to not interrupt him, patiently waiting for his break to come. He checked the time; he had another hour to go.
“Hey, Hidan.” He paused in wiping down the counter to meet the chocolate-colored eyes of another co-worker, Kankuro. Supposedly he came from some super rich family in Suna, but was shirking responsibilities by staying in Konoha. “Me and Kiba are gonna go visit the dumpster pad after shift. You wanna join us?”
He snorted, shaking his head while turning his focus back to the counter. “You know they randomly drug test me, right? I can’t be failing that shit, bro.”
“Ah, yeah; damn, man,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck. “I forgot about the drug tests; sorry about that. How much longer you gotta do that for?”
“Parole is two years.”
“Sucks.”
“Hey, did you guys hear about the body they found in Senju Park?” Kiba cut in, drawing both men’s eyes to him.
“Oh, I did!” Anko cried, muscling her way past Kiba excitedly. “The police won’t release any of the details, but I read in a forum that the guy was hung up by his hands, with blood just pouring out of him. Super gory stuff.”
Kankuro hummed, stroking his chin. “Did they say who he was?”
“Yeah, let me pull up the article…” Kiba fished his phone from his back pocket, swiping the screen and tapping his search engine to input the information. “Here; this guy.” He swept the phone to show the group. The picture was just a profile shot, from the torso up; he was big, overweight, with large shoulders, an orange-hued mohawk with bulky side pieces on a mostly-bald head, and a round, red-splotched face decorated with a stern expression. A name was stamped with neat, typed font at the bottom: Tsuchiya Jirobo. “They’re asking for information.”
“Wasn’t that guy here yesterday?”
Everyone glanced at Kin, someone that worked the afternoon shift the day before with him.
He studied the picture again, pondering. “Was he?”
Kin hedged. “I don’t know…I swear he looks familiar…”
Kankuro clapped the younger girl on the shoulder, chuckling, dispelling the seriousness of the mood. “Dude, how many people do we see in a day?” he posed, raising a brow. “He’s pretty basic-looking, so I’m sure he just looks like someone that was here yesterday.”
Wary yet hopeful, she smiled. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
Mystery abated, the crew became reoccupied in their tasks, with him ticking down the minutes until he could clock out and check in with his unwitting guest.
So absorbed in their work, no one noticed the devious curl of the pinkette’s lips, far too knowing to be benign...
[The second sacrifice in his honor was given that night.]
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Today’s top story: Police confirmed the discovery of yet another body in Senju Park. The family has agreed for their name and picture to be released to assist in the on-going investigation. Here it is. [A serious-looking woman with a long, blonde ponytail is posted on the screen, the name Nii Yugito plastered beneath] If you have any information on the whereabouts of this individual before her disappearance last night, or witnessed anything unusual near Senju park, please contact authorities at the number below. Police are advising all citizens to avoid this location for their own safety. More on this story as it develops.
The station was turned when the broadcast ended, a heavy feeling permeating the room. “Hey,” Kiba began, uneasy. “Didn’t she look…Familiar?”
Kankuro nodded, equally perturbed. “Yeah, I just don’t know how…”
Anko snapped her fingers. “Wasn’t that the lady from yesterday that was cussing Hidan out?”
Hidan snorted. “The one that didn’t want pickles on her sandwich, but she never said don’t put pickles on her sandwich?”
“Yeah, her!” she exclaimed, pointing at the TV. “That was her, right?”
“Maybe?” he acquiesced, shrugging. “Sorry I wasn’t memorizing her face as she was calling me a ‘fuckwit moron.’”
“Kind of crazy she was here, and then she goes and gets murdered by the serial killer they won’t say is a serial killer.” Kankuro’s observance did not sit well with the crew members.
“The murders could be unrelated,” Kiba posed, glancing between them nervously.
“Unlikely.”
“You meet any murderers in prison, Hidan?” Anko quizzed, changing the subject.
He shrugged, grabbing a broom. Things are slow, so may as well get a head start on cleaning, he mused. “Lots, but that’s all I’m gonna say about that, so get your freaky fetish kicks somewhere else.”
The woman huffed. “You’re no fun. What’s got your panties in a wad?”
“My landlord is a dick, that’s what.” His brow furrowed as he recalled the text message he received this afternoon. “Says he’s upping the rent because I’m a ‘risk’ since I just got out of prison three months ago.”
Anko made a sound of outrage. “That’s bullshit! Don’t you have a lease agreement?”
He sighed, not disagreeing but acknowledging he was stuck regardless. “Yeah, but apparently he can change it if he ‘discovers new information’ that can make it null and void.”
“Did he do that?”
“No, but he’s claiming he did.” He met the older woman’s eyes and shrugged helplessly. “Can’t prove he did know, so I’m up shit creek without a paddle.”
“That sucks, man,” Kiba said, sympathetic. “Want me to see if my complex has any units coming open soon?”
He shook his head. “Nah; even with the raise, it’s still cheaper than anywhere else.” He smiled, feeling grateful for the other’s kindness. “Thanks, though.”
“Is that girl really back again?” Kankuro abruptly asked, staring at Sakura seated at what had come to be her booth. He ignored the question, continuing to sweep.
Kiba laughed. “She must have a thing for you, Hidan!” he crowed, elbowing him so hard his dirt pile became mussed.
Violet eyes rolled nearly to the back of his head. “If that thing is a mental condition, she definitely has that.”
“What does she even say to you?” Kiba’s head cocked to the side, reminding him of a dog. “You’ve been spending your break the past couple of days talking to her.”
He procured the dustpan, positioning it to move the dirt pile into it. “I don’t know, she talks about some weird religion she has and how I need to join it, too, or something.” He shook his head in exasperation. “It’s fucking insane.”
“Yikes.” The brunette peeked at the girl, narrowly avoiding catching her eye. “Well, good luck not getting recruited, I guess.”
“Whatever religion it is, they’d kick your mean, sorry ass out anyway.” Kankuro’s ribbing comment elicited quite a few guffaws. “Hell, the church would probably burst into flames!”
“Maybe they’d need to sacrifice him!” Anko chimed.
He thrusted the handle of the broom at his co-workers. “Fuck both of you!” he yelled, swinging it in an attempt to smack them. They dodged effortlessly, the action causing them to cackle louder.
…Did you know eavesdropping can net one valuable information?...
[The third sacrifice in his honor was given that night.]
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Today’s top story: Police remain vigilant in their search for a person of interest after yet another mutilated body was discovered in Senju Park this morning. The victim has been identified as Suikazan Fuguki, a local property manager of several apartment complexes in the city. If you have any information regarding the whereabouts of Suikazan-san prior to midnight last night, or suspicious activity in or around Senju Park, please contact the number below. There is a reward out for any valid information that can assist Konoha PD in capturing this perpetrator. Now for today’s weather forecast…
Hidan shook his head, silver hair flying into his face as he did. It came as a shock when he received the email from the general manager of his complex that Fuguki was found dead, but hearing it announced on the news was almost as jarring. He felt a slight twinge of guilt about being grateful that his rent wouldn’t be changing now, but he elected not to dwell too much on that thought.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
He swiveled to look at Sakura, seated across from him. He was on break, one day closer to his day off, spending it with her as he had been the last few days. Despite her quirks, she was surprisingly pleasant company, as long as she kept talk of her abnormal religion to a minimum.
He gestured to the TV to his left. “That guy they’re talking about? He was my landlord.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be; he was an asshole.”
She tittered, placing her elbow on the table to rest her chin on her upturned palm. “Then good riddance.”
He smiled despite himself, marveling at the juxtaposition of her sweet appearance to her callous attitude. “I’m gonna be off the day after tomorrow.”
“And?”
“Are you still going to come here and hang out?”
She hummed, eyes twinkling. “Sounds like you’ll miss me.”
He merely shrugged, unable to deny her words, praying to whatever was listening she didn’t notice his face changing colors.
She leaned forward, the scent of cherry blossoms and something with a more biting tang wafting toward him. “You wouldn’t have to miss me if you’d just agree to come to the temple with me,” she declared, tone hopeful.
He grimaced at that, moving away from her. “I don’t do temples.”
“Why’s that?”
“My old man’s a priest.” He paused, sighing almost immediately after. Shit; didn’t mean to tell her that. An unfortunate side-effect of spending so much time with Sakura was the growing feeling of comfortability he was getting with her. Oh, well. Can’t take it back now. “He used to make me go with him to the church all the time when I was a kid, and I hated it. So now I just avoid them.”
She nodded along in understanding, humming. “Well, I know you’d like our church. It’s fun.”
“Oh yeah?” he challenged, almost playfully. “Why’s that?”
“I’d tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”
He laughed, confident she was joking. [If he had looked hard enough, he’d have realized she wasn’t.] “Okay, Pinkie. Whatever you say.” Enjoying the banter, he smirked at her. “You seem so desperate for me to go with you, why don’t you try offering me something to change my mind?”
She went quiet, visibly mulling over his words. “So if I suck your cock, you’d stop resisting?” She stood from her seat, angling toward the other side of the restaurant. “Fine; let’s go to the bathroom.”
Flabbergasted, he sputtered. “Wait, what? I was just kidding!”
“I’m not.”
He reached across the table, yanking her back into the chair by her wrist. “Don’t be a psycho; we barely know each other!”
She had the gall to laugh. “Wow, who knew you were such a prude!” She perused his body suggestively. “I mean, I wouldn’t be opposed…Who knows, play your cards right and I’d even-”
“Stop, stop, stop!” he demanded, face definitely reminiscent of a tomato at this point. What the fuck is wrong with her! “We are not having this conversation in the middle of a fucking lobby. Or at all, for that matter.” She giggled again as he turned his attention to the clock on the wall. “I gotta clock back in, anyway; there’s a hard-ass health inspector coming in today, and she always finds something to bitch about, so I have to go clean the shit out of the grills.” He himself stood with a resigned sigh, taking the time to wave her off as he left. “See you later.”
He clocked out of that shift aggrieved, the health inspector having failed the kitchen for one grease tray ‘not being cleaned to standard,’ resulting in yet another write-up. One more and he’d be terminated.
[A blessing there were eyes and ears everywhere…]
[The fourth sacrifice in his honor was given that night, with only One more to go…]
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[The hallway is long, empty, devoid of life and light. How the man in the flowing, black robe knows where he is leading a young boy, no older than 10, is anyone’s guess. Their steps echo in the silence.]
Hey, old man. What the hell are we doing here?
We’re here to cleanse you, son.
[A jeering scoff.] Cleanse me? Of what? What does that even mean?
There is a great evil inside of you, Hidan. It must be eradicated.
[They arrive at a door that swings open when the man pushes against it. The room is small, bathed in the eerie glow of candles, the burning wicks filling it with an acrid smell.]
The only thing that needs ‘eardicating’ is your stupid ass beliefs. I’m fine; Jashin-sama is all I need in this world!
I will save your soul, my son. [Tears, grotesque and full of sorrow, fell like rain] We will free you from this horrid Jashin and you will return to the path of righteousness.
Ugh, you’re pissing me off. You know, I’m itching to get another offering to Jashin-sama. Maybe he’d appreciate it if I chose you.
I’m sorry it’s come to this, Hidan. Please remember this is out of my love for you.
[As though materializing from thin air, multiple men dressed in similar black robes seized the boy’s arms and legs. He thrashed, cursing them, threatening them with violence and abuse, but they were undeterred. It took days; the tiny room claustrophobic and stuffy, perpetually filled with taunts, vitriol, and chants. When hope seemed lost, the boy abruptly stilled, eyes wide and unseeing, flopping to the ground. The men waited, wary yet hopeful, muscles tensed for action.
When the boy awoke, he no longer spoke of death and killing. Jashin was a name unfamiliar to him. Life continued forward, the father so sure of his decision, so convinced of his son’s redeeming, he never mentioned the awful ordeal again.
And yet, late at night, even as the boy grew older, he still awoke from nightmares of shadows and blood, his chest hollow from the loss of something he couldn’t recall ever having, the haunting call of his name from entities unknown…]
…Hidan…
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In today’s news: Based on new evidence and the discovery of yet another body [A picture takes up half the screen: The woman with jagged, burning red hair stares harshly out from beneath her black glasses; local health inspector Uzumaki Karin stamped at the bottom of the photo], police now believe the recent string of murders in the city are, in fact, being perpetrated by one individual. Authorities are continuing to advise all citizens to avoid Senju Park, as well as to remain indoors after dark until the culprit is caught. At this time, there is no description available of the suspect, so please be on your guard. Police Chief Uchiha will be holding a conference this evening at 5 pm, which you can watch right here on this station. Stay safe out there, folks; I don’t know that we’ve ever had an incident of this magnitude in Konoha.
“Damn, not another one,” Kankuro mumbled, shaking his head sadly.
Anko sighed. “I wish they’d quit pussyfooting around and just say it’s a serial killer,” she griped, throwing her hands up. “I mean, how many bodies have they found now? Six? Seven?”
Hidan stacked the last of the needed cups into the holder. “Four.”
Anko scoffed at the correction. “Point still stands: Serial killer.”
“Isn’t it odd that they have literally zero suspects?” Kiba posed, glancing between the crew. “How can this guy kill four people and no one notice anything?”
The assumption clearly bothered Anko, who whacked a closed fist against the counter. “Who says it’s a guy, huh? It could be a woman!”
“Could even be a tiger,” he added with thinly-veiled snark.
She turned a glare on him. “Shut up, Hidan; I’m being serious!”
“So am I,” he replied innocently.
“Maybe it’s an inside job!”
“Ugh, Kankuro,” the sole woman groaned dramatically. “Not another conspiracy theory.”
“You don’t know that it's a theory,” he argued passionately. “Could be a fact.”
“Just like the tiger.”
“Exactly my point, man!” He slapped him on the shoulder, staring fully at Anko once more, tapping his index finger against his temple. “Hidan gets it.”
Kiba patted the other brunette on the back, grinning wryly. “Clearly you’re smoking too much. Maybe you need to cut back.”
“Alright, jokers.” The conversation was broken up by their shift manager, Asuma. He reeked of cigarettes, having just come back in from one of his many smoke breaks. “Unless the serial killer is coming to save you from your shift, back to work.”
The crew obliged, moseying back to their various stations in preparation for the dinner rush. He was manning the grill and fryer tonight, alongside Kiba as his second-hand.
“Where’s your lady friend this evening?” he interrogated, making it a point to peer into the lobby, Sakura’s booth noticeably empty.
He could admit he was hurt she hadn’t shown up today, and anxious their exchange the day prior had affronted her, but he wasn’t going to say any of that out loud. Instead, he shrugged noncommittedly, throwing chicken patties onto the grill’s sizzling surface.
Sensing it was a sore subject, Kiba deflected. “Well, I don’t know what happened, but I’m sure she’s just staying home to avoid getting caught by the serial killer!”
He paused, mulling the other man’s point over. “Probably.” Hopefully.
[If only he knew…]
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hidan knocked hesitantly on the solid, wooden door, heart racing under the skin of his chest. He waited a beat before turning the knob, cautiously opening it. “Danzo-san?” he called lightly, stepping into the office. “You wanted to see me?”
“Yes, Hidan,” the older man confirmed brightly from behind the large, oak desk, an off-putting, serene smile dancing upon his thin lips. “Come in and shut the door.”
Doing as he was told, he stood awkwardly before it, feet shifting. Despite the late hour and it being his day off, Danzo had sent him a text message, instructing him to come back to the restaurant ASAP to discuss something related to his parole. “Do I need to sign something, sir?”
“No, no; nothing like that.” He rose from his chair, joints popping audibly as he did, maneuvering around the edge of the desk to the front so he could perch atop it. “I just wanted to let you know that I will be calling your parole officer and reporting your crime.”
He balked, panic tearing through him. “Crime? What crime? I haven’t committed any crime!”
“But you did,” he chirped, smile morphing into something sinister. “Your registers have been short every shift for the last two weeks.”
“That’s impossible!” he protested, growing irate at the bullshit being spewed right at his face. “Asuma and I count my register at the end of my shifts, and he said it’s been perfect every time!”
Danzo shrugged. “I guess he wasn't counting it correctly, then.”
“Why are you doing this?!”
His brow furrowed, eye narrowed in a nasty glare. “Because the last thing I need or want is some vagabond besmirching my life’s work! I built this store from the ground up, have ran it meticulously, made it the top-performing restaurant in the entire chain, and then you show up with your deplorable attitude and rap sheet, bringing rabble through my doors! On top of that, I know you are the one responsible for all these murders that have been happening.”
“Hold the fuck up; I didn’t steal shit, and I damn sure didn’t kill anybody! You’re fucking crazy!”
“At least I won’t be rotting in a prison cell.”
Incensed, he had heard enough. “You son of a-!” He lunged forward, tackling the old man to the ground. Despite his age, Danzo was surprisingly strong, managing to wrestle with him for a few minutes before he ended up on top. As if on instinct, his fingers circled the man’s wrinkled neck, squeezing, stealing the air from his lungs. Danzo struggled, his own hands flying to his wrists, fighting to peel them off. Clarity was returning to him, his brain finally catching up with his own actions. He released his boss, panting heavily, falling back onto the floor, shock and denial flooding him. He looked down at his shaking hands, pulse roaring in his ears.
Danzo sputtered and coughed, gasping as he worked his way back to his feet with the help of the desk. They stared at one another, seconds feeling like hours. He swallowed. “I-”
“Save it!” Danzo wheezed weakly. “Consider yourself done, you worthless sack of shit.”
“I think the only one ‘done’ here is you.”
Both men’s heads snapped to the back corner of the office, where a figure emerged, the fluorescent light catching on bubblegum-pink strands of hair and pale skin. Her emerald eyes appeared to glow unnaturally, straight, white teeth on full display in a feral smirk. She looked terrifying, like death walking, but he felt strangely comforted by her presence.
Danzo scoffed, face screwed into an ugly sneer. “You!” he seethed, pointing in her direction. “How did you get in here, girl?”
“Don’t worry about that,” she chirped, striding over to his crushed up body on the floor, holding out a delicate hand to him. In a daze, he took it, coming to his full height, towering her yet feeling small next to her. “Hidan, you can just kill him.”
He shook his head. “What? No, I-”
“It’s your destiny, Hidan,” she cooed, throwing one arm to the side and snapping her fingers. In a puff of smoke, a massive, three-bladed scythe appeared. She seized it naturally. “Go on. You know what to do.”
She eased the scythe into his trembling grip, a frisson of electricity shooting through him when it made contact with his palms. His fingers curled intrinsically around the handle, some deep, wounded part of himself he didn’t know about healing with it in his hands. He marveled at it, the red and black soothing, his face reflecting in the sharp metal. He cut a look at Danzo, reaching for the cordless phone on the desk. In a flash, his body moved, swinging the weapon and slicing the line that connected the phone base to the jack in the wall. In the process, he caught the old man’s palm on the tip, red-hot blood gushing from the cut. He groaned, cradling his wounded appendage to his chest, throwing curses at him.
He paid it no mind, entranced instead by the crimson liquid on the scythe. It awakened something primal within him, his mind and thoughts blank except for a chanting of kill him Kill him KILL HIM in a voice that wasn’t his own. Possessed by the feeling, he stalked toward Danzo, vaguely registering Sakura beside him, her expression gleeful. His victim cowered back, inching further and further toward the wall, trapping himself against it.
He threw the uninjured hand out. “Hidan!” he screeched, weathered, raspy voice catching on the syllables. “Stop! We can…We can talk about this!”
“Can we?” Sakura queried in his stead. “You weren’t willing to talk much when you were setting Hidan up for shit he didn’t do.”
“I was just trying to protect-!”
“Yourself? Yeah, you were, you piece of shit.” Sakura’s tone hardened, eyes narrowed dangerously. “You may be trash here, but Jashin-sama will gladly accept your life as penance.” She placed her hand on his bicep, smiling encouragingly. “Take him out, Hidan,” she murmured. “Awaken your true self.”
No further provocation needed, he took one large stride toward Danzo, hoisting the blades high above his head before hurtling them down, the man’s screams of terror a beautiful accompaniment to the sound of flesh ripping and blood spurting, smattering across his face and clothes. He did it again, and again, and one more time for good measure, the body in front of him barely recognizable as anything more than a mound of muscles and organs. Panting from the exertion, and something more thrilling, he clutched the blade to his chest, feeling his body begin to burn.
He bellowed inhumanly, every nerve ending alighting, his skin changing color right before his very eyes, like he was being painted by some unseen force. Pale pigment mutated into inky black, bone-white markings forming over where his actual bones laid beneath. He could hear Sakura cheering behind him as he examined his new body with wonder, the same voice from before filling his mind.
Welcome home, my son.
“Jashin-sama,” he breathed, the hot pinprick of tears at the edge of his eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Sakura soothed, taking his free hand into hers, squeezing meaningfully. “You were stolen from us. But now that you’ve returned, the Way of Jashin can finally take over the world.”
He nodded, understanding her in a way he hadn’t before. Sakura had helped save him, bring him back to where he truly belonged, and for that, he would be forever grateful. His hand raised, cupping her soft cheek while gently stroking her cheekbone. She sighed, leaning into his touch.
“The murders?” he asked, confident in the answer but wanting to know regardless.
She beamed proudly. “All me.”
“Why?”
“It was necessary for the ritual,” she explained. “Five sacrifices were needed, with the fifth being given by you personally to complete the transformation.” Her full lips pursed in a pout. “Choosing the offerings was easy since they were so disrespectful to our prophet.” She then smirked cheekily. “I could have made it quick and easy, but I was having too much fun relishing in their atonement. Had to remind them of their sin, after all; they screamed a lot.”
A spark of desire ran along his spine and to his groin, her dedication and ruthlessness alluring. “Such a good little follower, huh, Sakura?”
“The best.”
His thumb pressed harder against her bone. She gasped, lips parting and pupils dilating; all good signs. “Bet you’re willing to do a-ny-thing for Jashin-sama, hm?”
Her breathing picked up, voice breathy. “Of course.”
He grinned; feeling bold, he slipped the tip of his thumb past her pretty lips, into the moist cavern of her mouth. Her tongue instantly met the challenge, lazily swirling around the digit. He stifled a groan, pants growing tighter. “And for me?” he posed, deep and husky.
He spied her clamping her legs together, wiggling in place. “Whatever you ask, Hidan-sama.”
He barked a laugh, roughly extracting his thumb from her mouth. She whined, but stayed silent, face flushed and gaze rapt. “Let’s test out your devotion, then,” he announced, giving her a heated once over. He jerked his head once. “On your knees, crazy bitch.”
She bit her lip, sinking to the blood-splattered floor, impatiently pawing at the front of his jeans to fumble with the button and zipper. Dragging it down, she peered up at him from under lashes, wordlessly seeking his permission. He reached out to sweep wayward strands up and out of her face, gripping the back of her head. Taking that as all the consent she needed, she enthusiastically commenced demonstrating just how devout she could be. All with Danzo’s glassy, dead stare as witness.
Goddamn, it’s good to be back.