Chapter Text
As a child, his parents had always made sure to do the little things for each other.
His mother wore the perfume his father bought for her, saved and scrimped for, on special occasions. A dab of it on her wrists, just enough for the scent to catch when she passed by – she had made that bottle last for over five years. His mother had darned his father’s socks, sewn his clothing back together to make it last, and done what she could to heal his hands when he damaged them. His father had cooked her meals, washed her hair, and warmed her slippers.
Every act had been a reminder of love. It had been something he had often tried to forget in the world he lived in.
Living in Hyougagakure felt like another world. A new world in which he could allow himself to look at those small actions and allow himself to mimic them. Kakuzu had allowed himself to ignore his past, the way they had run from the Akatsuki and left everything behind, and allowed himself to focus on the future.
Focus on Hidan.
Walking him home, warming his slippers by the fire so he would stay warm and comfortable, cooking him meals, and taking them to him at work. Once he and Hidan had kissed for the first time, fallen into bed together, his assumption had been that they were on the same page about these things.
Staring at his partner, now, Kakuzu realized two things.
One: Obviously, they were not.
Two: Clearly, he would need to be plainer with his intentions.
“Hidan.”
Perhaps a bit of a mistake, starting out with that harsh of a tone, but it caught his attention. Reaching across the table, Kakuzu grasped Hidan’s chin, holding him still as he ignored the flare and flash of his temper. “Do you think, even for one moment, that I would be here with you if I did not want to be?”
“…What?”
Tightening his grip, Kakuzu gave Hidan a little bit of a shake. “Permanence is exactly what I want,” he stared at him, narrowing his eyes. “Did you think I wouldn’t? Do you think you mean so little to me that I would walk away from an offer of a lifetime with you?” he watched as Hidan’s cheeks turned red, his pale skin showing every change in color brilliantly. “I knew from the moment you trusted me enough to help you dye your hair that something about this was different.”
He softened his grip, sweeping his thumb over the curve of bone. He wasn’t gentle, he never had been, and he probably never would be. “I knew then that you were important to me, even if I could not have predicted how so.” He wasn’t gentle, but he could try.
Hidan’s hands crept up, curling around his wrist.
Not to pull him away, Kakuzu realized, but to hold him close. The look in his eyes was distant, something softer and almost mournful, and he knew something from his past was coming out of him next. “In my family, we always said we loved each other.” Hidan paused, helpless as his eyes squeezed shut for a moment. “We didn’t usually say goodbye, not really. We always said, ‘love you,’ instead. In case something happened, my dad told me.”
That was the disconnect.
Actions versus words.
Intent versus verbalizations.
“I wish I could ask you how you could ever doubt that I do love you,” Kakuzu murmured, meeting Hidan’s eyes. “But I know you have many reasons. You have a cantankerous bastard of a man as your partner.”
Hidan, still holding his hand in place, snorted and turned his head to kiss the center of his palm. “If you suddenly started saying it, I might die of shock.”
“I could start saying it sometimes,” Kakuzu watched the way Hidan stared at him. His eyes were wide again, full of wanting, and he knew it needed to be done. The walls he had spent a lifetime building up until they were taller than his head needed to come down. Even if only for one man, he needed to soften his edges. The rest of the world could stay outside and freeze, but he could be warmer for Hidan. What was one more thing warmed by the fire, anyway? Kakuzu smirked, his other hand moving to cup Hidan’s cheek. “Just know that I mean it with everything I do for you. Even if I have difficulty saying it, it is meant with every action I take, in everything I do to take care of you.”
Licking his lips, Hidan nodded. “Okay,” his voice was weak, barely there, and Kakuzu slowly let go of his face.
Instead, he let his hand trail down until he was holding Hidan’s hand. “Tell me about the offer Akito-san made to you, then,” Kakuzu prompted, picking up his mug of tea. Hidan had noticed his sore throat, the state of his voice, and made him tea. Another reason he had thought they were on the same page – Hidan made sure to take care of small things, oftentimes, and he did so without whining about them. “Tell me what his plan is.”
Hidan stared at their hands for a moment, then nodded slowly. “He’s going to retire in six years. Teach me how to take over the business in the meantime.”
He grinned, ducking his head. “Said you might be able to help me, if I couldn’t get a good handle on things by myself.”
Kakuzu squeezed his hand, brief and reassuring, taking a sip of his tea. As Hidan kept going, laying out what Akito had told him, he nodded along. They had only been in the village a handful of months, but Hidan seemed happy with how things had turned out for him. He was glad for that, if nothing else – his partner had never seemed so settled in the Akatsuki, always on edge and pacing. When Hidan paused, however, Kakuzu studied his face. There was something in his expression, something worried.
“I spoke to them,” Hidan licked his lips, looking at their hands. “At the market.”
“Them?” Kakuzu frowned.
It clicked after a moment, understanding flooding him like a river flowing freely after a dam had been removed. “Ah,” he set his tea down, taking Hidan’s hand in both of his. “How were they?”
“Alive,” Hidan scoffed. “They’re doing okay. They were happy to hear about your client, bright and orange and loud.” He smiled, his other hand joining the tangle on the tabletop between them. “Apparently, that’s his brother’s best friend. I finally gave him the knife I made.” His head drooped, his eyes closed, his breathing slow and even. “I…Fuck, I hope he makes it through this alive. Whatever was happening behind the scenes, I don’t think we even knew all of it.”
“And I do not believe we ever would have known,” Kakuzu agreed.
That was the truth of the matter, really, a part of the reason that he was glad to have escaped into the night in the first place. Something he had been growing aware of the longer they had been away: there was more than they had been aware of, information they had not been given, and grudges they had been uninformed of. Plans they would have been expected to uphold without being informed of all the details of. Their deaths might have come as a surprise to them, but as an expected outcome to the people in charge of them.
He would take a boring and predictable life over the one he had lived before if it meant survival.
Especially if it meant he got to keep Hidan in the process.
After months of getting used to living with him, sharing space with him, and learning his habits, Kakuzu had started getting used to him. More than that, he had truly come to appreciate and love him.
In a different world, he would have accused himself of being an imposter.
Here and now, however, he would hold tight to what he could carry in his hands, and he would run with it. Kakuzu took a deep breath as he pulled Hidan’s hand to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles.
“What do we do if that fight makes its way here?” Hidan’s voice was quiet, a trembling sort of worry in his words. Kakuzu felt the same worry in his chest, scrambling to make itself a home in his heart – they had made themselves safe and comfortable here, this village was theirs now. “What the fuck do we do if it comes here?”
“…I think,” Kakuzu sighed, his eyes closing, Hidan’s hand still at his mouth. He tightened his grip on him, on the promise of a future with him.
On the promise of a future at all.
“I think we protect it.”
Hidan didn’t move for a long while, breathing slowly and evenly. His voice was stronger when he spoke again. “If it reveals who we are?”
“Then we reveal who we are. These people cannot survive an attack of what would be coming their way if this fight comes to them – They are farmers and shopkeepers,” Kakuzu felt the moment Hidan gave in, even before he murmured a response. Something about the two of them had changed, being in Hyougagakure, and he knew it. “They are not shinobi or warriors or even fighters for hire. They would not be the sort to be able to withstand the battle that would occur, and they would be destroyed.” Kakuzu opened his eyes. “If this is to be our home, there is no running from this. If this is the future we want, if that is something we are choosing, we stay and protect it.”
Home had not been something he had thought about in a long time.
It spoke of settled bodies and roots being put down.
“Then we stay,” Hidan clenched his jaw, nodding in return. Home was a foreign concept for both of them, Kakuzu knew, and they were just getting used to the idea of it again after decades. “Fuck, might as well begin preparing now. If it doesn’t come our way, we have stuff to sell when I go with Akito-san. If it does, well,” he shrugged, letting the rest of his words fall into silence.
Kakuzu knew what he meant.
Being well-armed would not go amiss in the situation they found themselves in, should it come to that.
Hidan started bringing home weapons, after that.
Beautifully crafted, honed to a razor edge, each one worth selling. Each one capable of killing. Things he made in his spare time, with spare materials, things Akito-san allowed him to make with the intent to sell. Things Hidan planned and studied and sketched out on endless scraps of paper.
There was a shelf of blades in their home, now, each one glittering and lovely, each one deadly and waiting to draw blood. Worthy of battle, worthy of praise, an object to be admired and a weapon to be wielded. Hidan was more than just good at what he had set himself to, Kakuzu reflected as he passed the shelf, trailing a finger along a sheath. He was, perhaps, a genius at it. Brilliant in a way that few people ever were when it came to weaponry.
The world had been robbed of an artisan blacksmith when his family had been destroyed, and he had become a missing nin.
Soft steps behind him had him alert, but softly so.
Hidan stepped into the room.
“I was going to walk you home,” Kakuzu turned to him, an eyebrow raised. “What changed?”
“I got excited,” Hidan waved him off, shaking his head. “I finished something.” He approached Kakuzu, a package in one hand. “I…I’m not the greatest with the little actions. That’s your language, not mine. I’m about words, about saying shit outright and knowing it has been said.” He stopped, licked his lips, then nodded. “And I’ve been thinking about that for a while, since we figured out we’re dumbasses.”
Kakuzu put a hand on his elbow, steadying him. Hidan leaned into the touch, a soft hum in return, and relaxed a fraction.
Contentment and calm. It was new to see those on his face.
“But I finally finished something,” Hidan continued. “And it’s for you.” He held the package out to Kakuzu. “If that fight ever makes its way here, I need you to be prepared. I need you to survive. I won’t make it through without you. Physically, I will,” he glanced up, his eyes meeting Kakuzu’s. “But everything else would be dust.”
Taking the package, Kakuzu unwrapped it slowly.
A pair of what looked to be metal gauntlets, but thinner, narrower, were revealed. He recognized them, but he still had to ask, had to know. “Are these—”
“Tekkō-kagi,” Hidan nodded again. “A different design, altered to fit into your fighting style when you do hand-to-hand. Flow any of your chakra styles through them, and someone will wish they were dying instead of facing you. I made sure of it. That’s part of what took a while – I had to find people to test the different functions.” He traced a finger through the air over the metal, breathing slowly. “If you curl your hands while wearing them and activating your chakra to flow the right way, the claws will tuck in. Takes them out of defensive mode, so you can still pick things up.”
Hidan closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then sighed. “I’ve been hearing weird rumors about Konohagakure. With every market and with every visitor to the forge.”
Kakuzu held the claws in one hand and pulled Hidan close with the other, pressing their foreheads together. “In case you missed it,” he murmured. “I love you.”
It still felt like a weakness and a part of him screamed with every word, but he trampled that part of himself into the darkness and the shadows of his mind. Hidan had spoken in his language, and he needed to speak in Hidan’s language in return. That was how they would avoid the same problems as before.
The man’s shoulders settled, the barely-there tremoring stopping under Kakuzu’s touch.
They were making it work as best they could.
While drawing their line on the ground, in the sand, and standing against a possible war, they were making it work.