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Everything seems to be like normal. A mug of hot coffee waiting for him on the table, stupid dog nudging his legs in a call for attention—Hidan contemplates shoving it off but decides to instead ignore it. He has no strength for this.
Kakuzu isn’t here. He probably doesn’t want to see him—well, he always needed some time to cool off after their fights.
Not like it was Hidan’s fault this time. Not entirely, at least.
He didn’t mean it to come to that.
It sounds like a really half-assed excuse even in his head, so Hidan decides just not to think about it at all.
Which doesn’t quite work.
He clutches the mug in his hands, stares into it for a while. The warmth calms him a little; for a moment, he almost dazes off, closing his eyes. His head feels so heavy—he’d much rather go back to bed and get some sleep.
There’s a quiet bark—shit, why doesn’t the dumb beast ever leave him alone.
“The hell you want,” he mutters, glancing at the dog. “I don’t have any food.”
Alba tilts its head, staring at him; its bright blue eyes make Hidan feel even more uneasy, and he looks away. Then something white on the floor catches his eye, and he bends down to pick it up.
It turns out to be a torn piece of paper; he must’ve missed it yesterday, or the dog might’ve taken it from the trash, who cares.
Hidan automatically smoothes out the paper and freezes as he sees the rough sketches of his own face—calm, delighted, somewhat flustered. The emotions are captured surprisingly spot-on—even though it’s somewhat stylized, Hidan is kinda fascinated by the resemblance.
The paper is torn in just the right way to cut off half of one drawing’s head, leaving only a wide smile that almost seems mocking right now.
Hidan suppresses a wry grin and folds the paper again, not quite sure himself why. What’s he gonna do with it, really.
He feels weird for some reason, and this feeling just doesn’t go away. It’s just a useless sketch, and it really shouldn’t matter all that much.
Something heavy is suddenly on his lap—Hidan looks down to see the dog’s paws. Alba stares at him again, as if asking for something—what does it want, a treat? To play with him? Hidan isn’t gonna oblige.
Obviously, the dog doesn’t get the hint. As if it could.
“Fuck, what do you want from me?” Hidan hisses, annoyed, as he pushes the dog away—though still careful.
The stubborn beast puts its paw on his knee again but removes it almost immediately, turning to the door and wagging its tail.
“Leave Hidan alone, Alba,” Kakuzu says. He’s wearing that damn mask again—of course. He almost never takes it off outside of the house, and it’s annoying to no end.
Hidan wants to say something but doesn’t know what. Even a simple good morning is stuck in his throat for some reason.
Kakuzu bends down to pet the dog—his voice softens for a moment as he asks, quién es una buena perra?—and it barks in response, as though understanding him.
Yeah, right, it’s his good doggie; but he doesn’t even look at Hidan.
That’s annoying too.
“Hurry up, unless you want to get there on your own,” Kakuzu says, straightening.
Some part of Hidan wants to tell him to fuck off and really head to the college by himself. But one quick glance at the window stops him—there’s a fucking blizzard out there; and so he resorts to just pouring the untouched coffee into the sink.
Even though what he really wants is to fucking smash the mug against the wall.
Kakuzu says nothing as they get in the car; says nothing for almost half an hour that they drive. Even when Hidan tries to start some casual talk, he barely reacts.
“Come the fuck on, what is it?” Hidan snaps.
“What do you mean?” Kakuzu doesn’t look at him.
“You’re angry or something?”
He doesn’t reply right away, and when he does, it sounds dry and strained.
“No.”
And Hidan doesn’t believe it one bit.
But he has no strength to press on, and instead he just looks out of the window.
So early in the morning it’s still dark, and all the Christmas lights on the buildings catch his eye; they’re flashy and bright, reflecting on the snow, and Hidan isn’t sure how he feels about it.
It looks pretty.
Hidan has always liked the aesthetic of Christmas, even though he never actually got the feeling of the holiday; perhaps because he never had the opportunity to celebrate it.
When he was a child, it just wasn’t something his family did; and later, celebrating alone didn’t seem like any fun at all.
Hidan glances at Kakuzu—he’s staring at the road, the mask hiding the expression; but the look in his eyes seems kind of... sad? For lack of better word.
And Hidan feels torn between his own childish resentment and the desire to hold him and say he really didn’t mean it like that. He never did.
But instead he turns away again and runs his fingers along the cold glass.
It rarely snows this much here. This year must be a special one.
Though he’s not sure now if it’s for good or bad.
“It’s snowing a lot, eh?” Hidan says, hating how awkward and strained his voice sounds. “You don’t get to see that often here.”
Kakuzu mutters something incoherent but doesn’t really respond. Hidan hates it, hates his stubbornness—and hates himself for not being able to step over his own stupid pride.
What’s there to be proud of? Hurting him?
Hidan clenches his fist, exhaling quietly.
He remembers the way Kakuzu looked at him yesterday—that anger mixed with confusion, as though he didn’t understand why Hidan had done it.
To be honest, Hidan didn’t understand either.
He just... snapped. Too often, it was almost like someone flipped a switch, and he barely even acknowledged the reality until it was too late.
When they finally get to the college parking lot, Kakuzu suddenly breaks the silence.
“Hidan.”
Hidan turns around, staring at him expectantly; mostly he’s expecting to be lectured on what an idiot and inconsiderate jerk he is. Even that would be better—anything would be better than this silent treatment.
But all Kakuzu says is, “If you feel worse, tell me.”
And Hidan feels even more terrible. It’s like he really isn’t mad at all, and Hidan doesn’t understand why.
On one hand, it really was nothing. On the other... yesterday it did seem like that genuinely got to him.
It’s loud and crowded in the cafeteria, and Hidan tries his best to ignore the noise and the people while Amanda searches through her bag.
Can’t she be faster? He just needs these damn notes.
“Alright, I’ll give you the notes,” she continues, “but you gotta write the report yourself. I’m tired of always helping you, seriously, like I’m the one who needs it.”
“Come on, you’re nice and kind,” it doesn’t take Hidan much effort to put on a miserable face—probably because miserable is just how he feels right now.
She chuckles and shakes her head. “My kindness has limits.”
“Then I guess I haven’t seen ‘em yet.”
Hidan glances at the time; seems like it’s about thirty more minutes until Kakuzu’s last lecture for today is over.
Just thirty minutes... but the time is passing so slowly.
Hidan grips the phone in his hand, exhaling quietly, and puts it away.
Just fuck it.
Hidan wants to see him, and at the same time almost fears it. What is he going to say? Maybe he’ll just pretend like nothing happened, and it’ll be fine.
It’s not fine.
Everything feels so wrong, and no matter how hard Hidan tries not to think, his thoughts keep returning to yesterday—all that he’s done, all that he’s said.
A sickening feeling rises up to his throat, and he grits his teeth; it has to be fine, it’s always been fine.
He didn’t cross the line.
Hidan relaxes his fist, stares at his open palm. He almost feels the plastic crack in his fingers, the paper tear apart—so easily.
But maybe he came dangerously close to that.
“Hey,” Amanda calls, and he looks up reluctantly. “Did something happen?” she asks, even a bit worried. “You don’t look well.”
“It’s fine,” Hidan brushes her off.
“Whatever you say.”
Seems like Amanda isn’t going to press on. She just shrugs, places a pile of papers on the table closer to him—shit, is that really how much he’ll need to copy?—and returns to her drink.
She doesn’t seem offended, but who knows. Maybe she is. Hidan always somehow ends up saying some stuff that gets people irked.
But who cares if she’s mad at him or not. She won’t help him anyway.
Though really... who else could he possibly ask?
He probably could go to Konan. She was Kakuzu’s friend and could give him some ideas; and she was also teaching art history, and so chances were she knew more about all that shit than Amanda.
But he wasn’t really close to Konan. She just made him some tea in her office once, gave him an origami bird and vaguely mentioned that she was into girls so Hidan had nothing to worry about. And that he didn’t need to keep murdering her with his stare—well, she’d phrased it a bit nicer, she always was too polite and sweet. Almost sickeningly so.
Maybe she felt some pity towards Hidan.
Anyway, they didn’t talk much, only greeting each other briefly whenever their ways crossed, and Hidan simply didn’t trust her enough to ask her about something like this.
Not that he trusted Amanda. But it was easier with her, more familiar, he knew her longer, after all.
“Ams,” Hidan drawls grimly, “you know something ‘bout art?”
She glances at him, confused—looks so silly with this plastic straw still in her mouth.
“Not really, why?”
“I need... something. I don’t know.”
“Something,” Amanda repeats and sighs. “Hidan, come on, you’ll have to be a little more specific here.”
“Well, Kakuzu and I had a fight yesterday.” It doesn’t sound quite right. As if the reason for that was something like dishes left in the sink or whatever—something just as unimportant.
“And?” Amanda nudges him.
“And I kinda messed up his art supplies.” Noticing her skeptical gaze, he huffs and corrects himself, “Alright, I just fucking broke everything. It went straight into the trash.”
“Oh.”
She doesn’t say anything more, but her expression speaks for itself.
Well, she’s definitely not on his side here.
“I don’t know what exactly happened between you two, of course, but if my boyfriend broke my stuff—on purpose, I mean—he would go right after it.” She shakes her head.
“He can’t be mad at me for long.” Though Hidan isn’t sure how long his patience will last—something like this has happened quite a few times before. “But in the morning he still was. Mad.”
“Not surprised.”
Oh, fuck off. Not like he expected sympathy from her, but rubbing it in his face wasn’t necessary.
Hidan takes out a folded piece of paper, tries to smooth it out as best as he can—to not much avail, so in the end he simply hands it to her as is.
“Here.”
Amanda takes it and studies the drawings curiously.
“Yeah, he’s flattering you, you aren’t really that cute.”
Hidan chuckles, though it’s not that funny.
“I found it this morning. And, y’know... it’s kinda weird. Feel like an asshole when I look at it.”
There’s a mix of confusion and judgement in her eyes.
“Seriously, it’s the only thing that made you realize you’ve messed up?”
“No,” Hidan says. “It’s just that, well... nothing really came of that. Nothing good anyway. We just shouted at each other, then went to sleep in different rooms... it wasn’t what I wanted, at all.” He lowers his head, clutching his hair.
And maybe he didn’t want to snap like that.
“I always fuck up somehow.”
“Come on,” she reaches to ruffle his hair, and he has no strength to even escape the touch. “Happens to the best of us. Just say sorry and let that be a lesson?”
“You make it sound so easy,” Hidan mutters.
“Because it is,” she says, frowning a little. Then puts her elbows on the table, leaning forward. “So you want to buy something for him to replace what you broke?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
It’s the least he can do—it would be fair.
“Will you help me or not?”
“As if I have a choice,” Amanda smiles suddenly. “What about Thursday? We can stumble around and maybe find something nice. We’ll just have to try to not get tricked into buying expensive stuff. Though Christmas is around the corner... they’ll probably try to sell us the fanciest things they’ve got.”
“Are you gonna celebrate?” Hidan asks, not because he’s really interested but because thanking her feels too awkward.
“Yeah, with my family,” she replies eagerly. “My parents, of course, and also my grandparents will come visit us, and maybe my brother and his fiancée will be able to make it, though they’re not sure yet... Oh, I still have to buy gifts for them! So I won’t be only helping you,” she chuckles. “What about you?”
“Ugh. I don’t know.” Hidan looks away, frowning.
“Why so?” Amanda asks. “Because of your fight? I’m sure you two will make up till Christmas!”
“Maybe.” Hidan doesn’t feel like continuing this conversation which he himself started.
Really, what are they gonna do on Christmas? For some reason he hasn’t thought about it up until now.
Even if he forgets about that stupid argument... what could they possibly do? Have a romantic dinner? A night-out? It sounds incredibly dumb.
Yet for some reason Hidan wants to ask Kakuzu at least what he thinks about this.
The phone buzzes briefly in his hand, tearing him from the stupid thoughts.
I’m at the parking lot.
And that’s it. Hidan stares at the message for a few seconds, then exhales loudly and gets up.
He’ll just act like it’s all fine. Ignore the problem, and it’ll go away on its own—eventually.
The stairs are all covered in ice, and Hidan nearly trips a few times—fuck that, he thinks, fuck the weather, their argument, everything.
Kakuzu is standing by the car, staring at his phone, and only turns around when Hidan is right next to him. His face shows nothing—even considering he’s wearing the mask.
“Hey,” Hidan says. He wants to say something else, but his voice gets stuck in his throat; and Kakuzu only nods briefly.
“Everything alright?” he asks, sounding weirdly detached, as he opens the car door for him. Doesn’t even look at him, and Hidan feels anger grow inside again.
Even though he’s the only one to blame.
“Fucking amazing,” he says, getting into the car.
Unlike morning, this time silence doesn’t last long.
“Why don’t we do something, like, for the holiday?” Hidan asks. It’s mostly to try and break the tension somehow; but now that he’s said it, he thinks he’d actually like that. “Look, everyone’s decorating their houses, and we don’t even have a Christmas tree. Fucking boring.”
“It’s waste of time and money. Useless.”
“Don’t you celebrate at all?” Hidan wonders.
They never really talked about that. Not that he thought that Kakuzu liked to throw Christmas parties or some shit like that—no, he just wasn’t that kind of person—but such indifference is surprising.
After all, come on, everybody loves Christmas?
All the normal people, at least.
“Why?” Kakuzu asks in response.
Hidan thinks for a while.
“Eh, I don’t know... my father really hated Christmas. Never celebrated. I remember one time I was still a kid, I came home and asked him, like, why does everyone celebrate and we don’t? He’d roughed me up real bad, and mom was like usual...” Hidan falls silent, noticing the look in his eyes, and quickly raises his hands. “Hey, I’m not trying to make you feel bad here! Really. It’s just that, well, that’s how it was. Can’t do nothing ’bout it.”
Kakuzu turns away, closing his eyes for a moment.
“Eres imposible,” he says quietly. “If you really want to celebrate Christmas, I don’t mind. Even though it’s just dumb.”
“But it’s fun,” Hidan grabs him by the arm, not thinking about the fact they’re still driving. “Christmas is cool.”
Kakuzu says nothing at that. Only sighs, shakes his head and turns the steering wheel—the sharp turn makes Hidan press closer against him.
They’re almost home, Hidan notes.
And he kind of doesn’t want to get home. He just knows it’ll be more tense silence there; knows that Kakuzu will avoid him for the rest of the day—if not for the next day as well. And it’s maybe better than shouting at each other, but still bad.
Maybe Hidan needs to say something. But he’s never been good at apologizing. Kakuzu has to know that he didn’t mean it, after all.
The car slows down when they reach their driveway.
Just as silent, Kakuzu stops the car and exits it without even looking at Hidan.
Hidan rushes after him, grabs his hand—immediately lets go after noticing the look in his eyes.
It’s not angry. It’s just tired and only a little bit irritated.
Why is Hidan feeling guilty again when Kakuzu doesn’t even say anything to him?
Kakuzu runs his hand along his shoulder lightly and pushes him away.
“Let’s go already.”
And the tension which has barely left returns again.
And it’s just like Hidan thought: Kakuzu is firmly set on avoiding him. This makes Hidan uneasy—angry; but starting another fight now seems like the worst idea ever.
He thinks he should find something to do. He even tries to look through Amanda’s notes, but the letters start to blur when he’s at the second page. Doesn’t help.
What will help?
Hidan doesn’t know.
Pushing the notes to the floor, Hidan lies down on the bed. Then sits up again. He doesn’t want to sleep and doesn’t know how to occupy himself.
Maybe it would help if Kakuzu was here; but he’s not. What’s with him getting so riled up over nothing...
People are always like that. They get upset because of the dumbest things. And Hidan is probably guilty of that himself; but he doesn’t want to think about it now.
He should’ve just said sorry. It ain’t that hard.
Hidan almost wants to go find Kakuzu and say just that; but he has no strength to get up, none at all; his body feels so numb and heavy, and all the thoughts flee before he can concentrate on one.
What does it matter, anyway.
Alba’s quiet bark-whine-or-whatever it is tears him from his trance, but doesn’t make him do anything.
“Stupid dog,” Hidan says weakly. He has no energy left to even chase it away. “Get lost. I ain’t gonna play with you.”
The dog still drops the ball onto his lap—it falls to the floor almost immediately—and nudges his hands. Annoying. But it’s that usual frustration which can’t get him out of the overwhelming apathy. It hardly matters if it’s there or not.
Nothing changes.
Hidan doesn’t move, only repeats get lost a few more times, but then falls silent again.
Alba jumps on the bed and settles next to him, its warm body pressing against his thigh. Somehow, it’s almost like it understands... though what could it possibly understand. But Hidan doesn’t mind it being this close. If only it wasn’t trying to get him to pet it, nudging his hand stubbornly.
Whatever. Hidan doesn’t even try to push it away, because it doesn’t matter.
“Alba, para,” Kakuzu’s voice is something he didn’t expect to hear—certainly not now. But he’s here, and Hidan vaguely wonders why. “Leave him.”
Reluctantly, the dog still obeys, jumping to the floor, and barks quietly again, seemingly not exactly happy about that.
Kakuzu chuckles briefly before turning serious again.
“Everything alright?” he asks, and his voice sounds unusually soft.
Hidan shrugs. Maybe, maybe not.
Why even bother.
Silent, Kakuzu sits down next to him and holds him.
Hidan closes his eyes, turns his head slightly—just enough to press his cheek against Kakuzu’s shoulder. Warmth radiating from him and his steady heartbeat feel so calming; he doesn’t want to move or say anything.
But he has to ask.
“Are you mad? For real.”
For some reason Hidan is afraid to hear the answer.
Kakuzu responds after a while, “A little.”
And there’s nothing surprising. Except maybe for the fact that it’s just a little.
“I didn’t mean it.”
He did, actually—but it wasn’t his pencils that he wanted to break, but his arm; he didn’t want to turn over the table, he wanted to grab his hair and ram his head into the wall—or something like that. Not that Hidan really thought in that moment. He just wanted to hurt him, as much as possible, to make him understand—
What, exactly?
If he thinks about it now, it’s just dumb.
But he just wanted Kakuzu to look only at him. He shouldn’t have needed anything—anyone else as long as Hidan was there.
And somehow he forgot that it was weirder to not leave each other’s side twenty four-seven, that everyone needs personal space.
Somehow the realization always comes too late, when there’s little chance to fix anything.
But he just doesn’t want to lose him.
And Hidan does want to tell him—about all his thoughts, all his strange feelings, how he’s just so sick of trying to deal with all this shit—but it’ll only make things worse, because Kakuzu simply won’t get it.
And so instead Hidan says only, “Don’t go.”
Kakuzu chuckles quietly and holds him closer.
“Qué tonto... Where would I go from you.”
He kisses his hair, and Hidan freezes, still not opening his eyes.
And it gets better; if only a little.
The dog jumps on the bed again, but this time nobody chases it off, and it curls into a ball, pressing against Hidan’s side. Feels warm.
Once again, Hidan thinks that he should apologize. Say at least something that won’t sound as stupid and dismissive as ‘I didn’t mean it’.
But he can’t find the right words, and Kakuzu doesn’t ask anything of him, and so he remains silent. Maybe it really doesn’t matter that much. Maybe they can just forget it.
“Está bien,” Kakuzu says; his voice sounds tired but tender, and Hidan mutters something in agreement.
It doesn’t feel like it’s alright.
But maybe it’ll get there eventually.
***
“Your mother was a fucking whore.” Father is standing with his back turned to him, and at his feet she’s lying—unmoving, her white hair strewn all over the floor, her neck twisted unnaturally.
Only now Hidan notices how actually fragile she is.
“She was asking for it.”
She was, wasn’t she.
That’s what you always say.
Hidan chokes on nervous laughter, fumbles blindly for something on the table—and finds the handle of a knife almost instantly.
There’s no reflection.
Only an impulse.
Father turns around at the last moment but doesn’t have the chance to react—only his eyes widen in horror—and then he screams.
And Hidan stabs him again and again, not even surprised at the fact how easy it is—and for some reason he can’t stop laughing.
“Wszystko będzie dobrze, miły,” mother says, smiling; and kisses his forehead like he’s still a kid.
She’s always smiling.
And she’s always saying that father loves them.
Only—yes, sometimes he can be strict.
Hidan opens his eyes, struggling to breathe in, and for a moment he thinks he’s still there, next to the dead bodies of his parents.
The air is stiff, refusing to get into his lungs, and he just keeps opening his mouth to no avail. He gets up, suffocating—just like years ago when father would punch him in the gut, but it’s somehow worse now.
Calm down, calm down
Hidan finally takes in a ragged breath, but the weird weight in his chest still doesn’t leave. Clutching his head, he closes his eyes and tries to breathe slowly and steadily; but the momentary relief feels more like self-deceit.
He hears a quiet shuffle behind his back and then Kakuzu’s tired voice:
“Hidan, what is it?”
Hidan shakes his head furiously. Everything will be alright... fuck, nothing is alright; the sickening noise comes back, and something constricts his chest harder.
He presses his hands to his temples, lowering his head.
He wants it to never-never-never have happened.
Or at least to not remember about it.
At least for it not to hurt so much.
“Hidan,” Kakuzu’s warm hand touches his shoulder. “Háblame. Are you feeling bad?”
Ain’t that fucking obvious
Hidan says nothing.
He doesn’t want to speak, he just can’t—he hates appearing weak, doesn’t know how to explain. But then Kakuzu pulls him closer, careful but certain, and Hidan freezes, breathing hard.
The warm embrace makes it a little bit better, and even though Kakuzu doesn’t say anything—the way he holds him firmly is more than enough.
Hidan turns to him, pressing his forehead against his shoulder, and wraps his arms around his waist.
Kakuzu whispers something very quiet and incomprehensible, but it sounds so calming; and Hidan keeps breathing, slowly relaxing in his arms.
He’s here.
And there’s no need for any words, because he understands.
“Nightmares again?” Kakuzu asks, moving away to look at him.
Hidan shrugs and shakes his head to get the hair off his face. “It’s nothing.”
“Don’t nothing me.” Kakuzu sighs and grips his shoulder. “Hidan. I know it’s not easy. And I also can see you’re not really getting better.”
“I’m fine,” Hidan says stubbornly.
Kakuzu doesn’t look convinced at all. But, surprisingly, doesn’t argue—probably knowing that it won’t lead anywhere.
“Perhaps now isn’t the best time for this,” he says instead and holds Hidan again. “Try to get some rest.”
Yeah, that seems like a good idea.
Hidan closes his eyes, pressing closer to him. The shivering is still there, but it’s not nearly as bad now.
***
“Everything alright?” Amanda asks—and honestly, Hidan is already sick of these questions. “You look so pale you’d probably blend in with the snow.”
Hidan huffs—these jokes are never funny.
“Fine,” he says, grimacing. “Seriously, Kakuzu has been pestering me ‘bout this all morning, and now you too? I’m better than ever.”
“Yet you don’t seem that,” she notes. As Hidan shakes his head, she sighs and puts a hand on his arm. “Hey. We all know you’re a tough guy, okay? But it’s alright if you need help. Just...” she stutters. “Just, uh, thought I’d say that.”
“Mm.”
Sometimes Amanda’s goody-two-shoes attitude is pretty damn annoying.
“Hidan, really,” she presses on. “If you don’t wanna tell me, then tell him. It’s not healthy, driving yourself to this.”
“The fuck are you even talking about? I’m perfectly fine,” Hidan brushes her off.
And he is.
It’s been a few days since the last breakdown, and he really wishes people would just understand that he’s alright.
Ignoring Amanda’s intent stare, Hidan takes out his phone to type a quick message.
I’m going somewhere with Amanda, don’t wait for me
The reply comes surprisingly quickly.
Do you need me to pick you up later?
nah, Ams got a car
Alright.
Hidan isn’t sure if he should be glad or not; Kakuzu’s understanding sometimes takes him aback.
How are you?
Hidan just stares at the screen for about half a minute. Again? He’s fine. There’s absolutely no need for freaking out like this. He has good and bad days, just like most people, that’s it.
But...
Kakuzu’s concern is kind of cute.
fine, really
After thinking for a moment, Hidan texts a short:
quiero <3
Then puts the phone back in his pocket and looks at Amanda.
“So are we going or not?”
“I’m waiting for you,” she reminds, twirling the car keys in her fingers. “Come on, get inside.”
“Pretty cover is great, sure, but the paper is what matters,” Amanda grabs the notebook—sketchbook—whatever that shit’s called, “it has to be good quality.”
“All the paper is the same,” Hidan grumbles.
Frankly, he’s sick of it. Everything—Amanda’s flitting about, searching through the items, the people around—the people most of all, probably.
The familiar noise in his head is barely audible now, as though someone has turned the volume down—but it probably isn’t for long.
He probably should’ve taken the meds today, but whatever. It’s not a big deal.
“Actually it’s not,” Amanda gives him a confused look and sighs. “Come on, I’m here because of you. Sophia invited me to go see a movie with her, now I think I should’ve agreed...”
“Then fuck off right to your Sophia,” Hidan mutters, frowning tensely. “I’ll handle myself.”
“I can’t just abandon you.”
Hidan only rolls his eyes and returns to the sketchbooks. He knows so little about this, and in the end he decides to rely on Amanda’s help—though it seems like she also has no idea what paper is good quality. If it’s not see-through and doesn’t tear on touch—that must be good.
This one is gonna be a failure, Hidan thinks, annoyed at himself even more. And that tired excuse it’s the thought that counts won’t work here, because it’s not just some gift.
But the one sketchbook he finally settles on does look nice. Not cheap, not too fancy. Hidan can only hope that it’s good enough.
“So, was there something else?”
“I guess,” Hidan shrugs. “Wait a sec, let me check... I don’t remember how that shit is called, but I’ll recognize it if I see it.”
“Sure,” Amanda stretches and turns around. “I’ll go grab some coffee while you’re at it. You want some?”
“Yeah,” Hidan mutters, barely paying attention to her.
He takes out his phone, nearly dropping it—his fingers tremble for some reason. Must be the cold.
The connection is terrible, the search engine page takes forever to load—and the results take even longer.
Amanda heads to the coffee machine near the entrance, pulling out her wallet.
Hidan still doesn’t understand how she puts up with him; even if she really likes to appear all nice and sweet, it must take too much time and strength.
Frankly, he barely tolerates her sometimes: all these endless lectures can be hella annoying.
The only advantage is having someone to copy the notes from.
And perhaps someone to talk to sometimes.
The page finally loads, and Hidan begins scrolling through the listed items. If he focuses on this one thing, it gets a bit easier. He just needs to stop thinking too much—it never does him any good.
“What, you aren’t done yet?”
“The internet is shit,” Hidan replies without looking at her but does take the offered cup of coffee—more automatically than really thinking of it.
“Yeah...” Amanda hums in agreement. “Can’t get even get Facebook to load. And I just got a message—”
As usual, Hidan completely ignores her chatter when she gets off the topic; not like he gives a fuck about her dumb friends.
The site finally gives in under his stubbornness, and Hidan thinks he’s fucking lucky he didn’t have to click through a dozen more pages.
“Hey, I think that’s it,” Hidan shoves the phone at her. “You seen something similar around here?”
“Looks like some kind of professional stuff,” Amanda muses, staring at the picture of some fancy pencils. “Yeah, I have. I think they were... over there?” She points at the stack a few feet away from them a bit uncertainly but then grabs Hidan’s hand and practically drags him along.
Well, wouldn’t hurt to check.
Professional or not—honestly, Hidan doesn’t know shit about art stuff—these things turn out to be quite expensive. And it ain’t just them.
“Y’know, I think if I had the money, I’d just buy this whole store,” Hidan jokes. “The best way to make sure you got exactly what you needed.”
Amanda shakes her head but does laugh a little.
Though Hidan ends up having to spend almost all the money he’s got left after he got kicked out of his last job—but he doesn’t really care.
Amanda helps him put everything into the bag, rolling her eyes; and Hidan thinks for some reason, what he’s going to tell Kakuzu.
He sucks at apologies. Well, it ain’t hard to say sorry after some minor thing; but when things get really bad, he just can’t find the right words. Explain.
Although it seems to be the one problem they have in common. Which they don’t seem to be able to fix.
“See, it wasn’t that bad,” Amanda says, handing the now much heavier bag to him.
“Whatever would I do without you.”
“Without me you wouldn’t have made it through the first year in college,” she snorts. “And wouldn’t have ever met the love of your life.”
“The town’s small, I’d’ve met him eventually,” Hidan waves dismissively. “What, are you jealous?”
Amanda laughs, shaking her head, and nudges his shoulder lightly.
“You wish. You’re not my type... and you’re also white. No offence.”
“Too late, I’m deeply hurt and insulted,” Hidan presses a hand to his chest dramatically.
Seems like he might’ve gone overboard with the theatrics, because Amanda adds hastily, sounding almost guilty, “I didn’t mean anything. Sorry if— it was just a joke.”
Hidan chuckles, shakes his head.
“It’s nothing.”
Probably every person he meets points out his unusual appearance in some way. Amanda’s jokes aren’t the worst—they’re pretty light-hearted, even if hella annoying.
“Don’t forget your coffee,” Amanda takes the plastic cup from the counter and pushes it in his free hand. “Why did you even ask me to buy you one...”
“You’re so thoughtful,” Hidan says. But he’s actually somewhat grateful.
The coffee isn’t as hot anymore—hardly even warm, to be honest, but that’s fine.
“I wanna get a car too,” Hidan says, leaning back in his seat. “Kinda tired of depending on people to give me a ride.”
“What’s stopping you, then?” Amanda wonders. “You can find a used one cheap enough online, well, for a car. That’s how I got mine.”
Hidan grimaces. “Like I’d ever get a license.”
“Oh. Sorry,” she falls silent for a while. “Are... you okay?”
“You’ve asked me that like a hundred times,” Hidan huffs. “Could you people just stop treating me like I’m dying?”
“Sorry,” she repeats and sighs. “I’m just worried. You never tell me anything.”
“‘Cause it ain’t your fucking business.” Hidan turns away, staring in the window.
Amanda snorts but doesn’t pursue the topic further, probably realizing that it’s pointless. Hidan also doesn’t rush to continue the conversation, so they spend the remaining ten or so minutes in silence.
Which Hidan, honestly, doesn’t mind.
The endless questions wear him out, and he doubts Amanda even actually cares instead of just acting nice.
She wouldn’t help even if she really did.
“Now get out,” Amanda says, and he realizes they’ve already reached the house. “Make sure to hide the present well until you prepare your apology speech.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Hidan replies as he leaves the car and grabs his bag. “And, uh, thanks for the ride, I guess.”
“Anytime,” she smiles. “Even though you’re a rude ass.”
While Hidan thinks of an insult which wouldn’t make her too angry, she suddenly exclaims, “Oh my!”
“Huh?”
Hidan turns around—just in time, or else he probably would’ve been knocked to the ground by that stupid dog. Perfect timing, he thinks irritably, why is it even outside?
The dog barks happily, jumping around him and seemingly trying to get him to pet it. Tough luck, it’s not getting what it wants.
Amanda gets out of the car quickly, watching them with such expression Hidan thinks he’s going to be sick.
“Dumb dog,” Hidan mutters, trying to push Alba away, but it seems awfully keen on licking him to death.
“What a cutie,” Amanda coos and gestures the dog to come to her—Hidan exhales, relieved, when it does. “Is she yours?”
“His,” Hidan corrects her. Even though he’s gotten somewhat used to this furry beast, it’s still Kakuzu’s dog. It doesn’t even listen to Hidan most of the time.
“Oh, but she missed you, look!” Amanda says, laughing, as the dog gets out of her arms and runs towards Hidan again, staring into his eyes and wagging its tail.
“Nah, it hates me.” Hidan pats the dog’s head and shoves it away again. “That’s enough, go bother Ams.”
“Hidan doesn’t appreciate you, you poor baby,” Amanda chuckles and hugs the dog, ruffling its fur. “What’s her name?”
“Alba,” Hidan says.
“What a beautiful name!” Amanda pecks the dog’s nose, making it snort. “You’re such a good girl, Alba, right?”
The dog lets out another happy bark, and Hidan grimaces, looking away.
He’s not jealous or any stupid shit like that; but it still feels unpleasant. The dog sees Amanda for the first time and seems to already love her—but it hated Hidan the moment they met.
Maybe it’s partly why he dislikes it in return.
“Alba!” He hears a loud yell and looks to where it came from; a short figure, nearly stumbling, is running towards them, a leash in her hand. “Alba, bad girl, I told you not to run away!”
In a few seconds, she reaches them and stops, panting heavily—she’s been running for a while, it seems—and then bends down to attach the leash to the dog’s collar.
Hidan looks the teen over, vaguely recognizing her.
That neighbor girl. What was her name again? Sakura or something like that... Kakuzu paid her to walk Alba when he didn’t have time, and the kid just adored the stupid dog.
She looks up, having finally caught her breath.
“Oh, hi! Mr, eh... sorry...”
“Just Hidan,” he waves her off. “Ain’t that old yet.”
Sakura laughs awkwardly. “Sorry!” she repeats, brushing her dumb pink hair off her face, and turns to Amanda. “Hey! I’m Sakura, nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” she chuckles. “I’m Amanda, a friend of this jerk,” she nods at Hidan; he only grimaces at that.
Sakura snickers quietly.
“You’ve got cool hair,” Amanda grins.
“Yeah, right?” Sakura’s face lights up. “I couldn’t decide between pink and purple—maybe I’ll get purple hair next month.”
Show-off. Hidan snorts.
“I used to have purple strands in high school. Didn’t look as cool as it sounds, though,” Amanda chuckles. “Maybe ‘cause I dyed my hair myself.”
Hidan huffs, looking away; he’s already so sick of it. At least Alba seems to share his opinion, nudging his legs: it probably wants to go home already.
“You dye your hair too, no?” Sakura asks him innocently.
Hidan shakes his head. “All natural, brat.” Shit, he really does hate this.
“But it’s so... light!” she narrows her eyes. “Almost white.”
“Perks of being an albino,” Hidan winces. “And don’t forget getting burnt to crisp after like two minutes in the sun.”
He’s exaggerating a bit; it’s only that bad in summer, and even then, he can live with it.
“Oh,” she falls silent in a moment, eyeing him weirdly. “I didn’t... didn’t realize. I thought it was just kinda your style.”
“You learn something new every day,” Hidan shrugs, trying to stifle his frustration. Lashing out at the dumb kid isn’t really the smartest thing. It’s not worth it. “Now, are you here to get paid or what?” he asks irritably.
“No,” Sakura shakes her head. “Mr Caro always pays me upfront. I was actually just about to take Alba home! But since you’re here, you probably wanna take her yourself?”
Actually, no.
But instead Hidan sighs and says, “Whatever.”
“Okay!” She shoves the leash into his hands. “See you around then!” She turns to Amanda, smiling, “You too!”
Amanda waves at her with a grin. Hidan doesn’t bother with any kind of response.
“She’s a nice girl,” Amanda notes when Sakura almost disappears from sight.
Hidan only mutters something under his breath. Nice? More like hella annoying.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” she asks. “Did you really get upset because of what she said?”
“No,” Hidan says. “‘Cause of everything. This whole week has been a fucking mess.”
“Well, I’d say today’s been pretty okay, no?” Amanda smiles and playfully punches his shoulder. “Come on, cheer up!”
Hidan grimaces but says nothing.
He feels strange. Nervous, probably; he’s not sure how else to name this weird feeling of anticipation. Today has been alright so far, but Hidan isn’t sure it’ll be enough to fix anything.
“Well, I guess I’ll be going, then,” Amanda says. She bends down to pet the dog one last time and straightens, smirking at Hidan. “Tell the prof I said hi.”
“You wish.”
Amanda laughs and gets into the car.
Hidan watches as she drives off and then glances at the dog sitting near his feet.
“Time to go home, doggo,” he says.
Alba immediately jumps up and rushes towards the house—dragging Hidan along.
He forgot about the fucking leash.
It’s not a long walk anyway.
Hidan searches for the keys, while the dog keeps running around him, its tail wagging—so dumb, he thinks, but he doesn’t feel that angry anymore. And he even bends down to pet it briefly.
It was happy to see him, after all.
“Hey, I’m back!” Hidan announces, stepping inside and closing the door behind them. Alba runs off to the room once he removes the leash.
Kakuzu doesn’t respond, but Hidan hears that annoying mi buena perra again and Alba’s quiet bark.
Figures.
“If you even give a shit,” Hidan mutters under his breath as he puts the bag on the floor near the wall.
He isn’t sure why he says that.
Things between them seem to have returned to normal—almost; but there’s still some kind of tension left. It shouldn’t come as a surprise, considering that they haven’t really talked this through—Hidan hasn’t even apologized yet.
He knows he should. He just can’t find the right words—he never could.
As Hidan enters the room, he notices some boxes on the floor. It’s... weird, considering Kakuzu isn’t one for making a mess. Most of them aren’t open. Did he order something?
Hidan studies the boxes—and then notices something else, which, frankly, should have been the first thing he’d noticed.
There’s actually a Christmas tree here right in their living room. Well, it doesn’t look exactly Christmas-y without any decorations, but still.
Seriously?
Hidan didn’t think that Kakuzu would remember that conversation, much less get an actual fucking Christmas tree.
He glances at Kakuzu—he doesn’t even acknowledge that, seemingly busy with something, with the laptop in front of him and some papers scattered around on the table.
Hidan looks at the tree again. Unsurprisingly, it’s still there. Well, he couldn’t have imagined it... his head isn’t that messed up yet.
“Eh... what’s that?”
“You wanted Christmas,” Kakuzu responds without looking up. “Have your fun. Just try not to destroy the house.”
“Is it real?” Hidan asks, feeling like an idiot.
“It’s fake, if that’s what you mean. An actual live tree won’t last long.” Hidan sees him frown a little. “Plus, it would be a pain to deliver here.”
Hidan touches one of the branches, feeling something close to that almost forgotten childish anticipation rise up inside; it’s just a tree, not even looking impressive without decorations, and yet...
It feels like a dream—or a scene from some holiday movie; and it’s nice.
More than that, even; but Hidan just can’t form his thoughts into anything meaningful.
“Well?” Kakuzu asks, trying to sound just as uninterested, but it’s obvious he cares about Hidan’s answer.
And Hidan turns to him with the brightest smile on his face—and, unable to find any words, rushes to hug him.
“Dzięki,” he exhales into his ear and quickly corrects himself, “thanks, I mean— I didn’t think you’d— I thought you’d just said it back then.”
“Such a kid,” Kakuzu ruffles his hair lightly. “De nada. How little it takes to make some people happy.”
“Fuck off,” Hidan replies, not pulling away. Even his usual manner isn’t all that annoying now.
“So, you gonna decorate it with me?” Hidan asks, sitting at the table across him.
“I have to finish working first,” Kakuzu says—well, probably what Hidan should’ve expected. “And you should get something to eat.”
“I had coffee with Ams,” Hidan objects.
Kakuzu gives him a skeptical look. “Coffee can hardly be called food. In any case, dinner’s on the stove if you change your mind.”
“If it’s that weird soup—what was that, paw-sole?—again, then I’ll pass,” Hidan chuckles.
“It’s pozole,” Kakuzu corrects. “Should’ve just said you didn’t appreciate Mexican cuisine.”
“I like tacos,” Hidan says, feeling a wide smile grow on his face. It really seems like they’re back to normal, and even though ignoring the problems isn’t exactly a good idea, it’s fine now. They’ll talk it through later; right now Hidan just wants to enjoy this evening. “And those, uh... rolled tacos?”
“You mean enchiladas.”
“Yea, those.” Hidan grins. “I guess I need to work on my Spanish. Shit, I haven’t spoken it since high school.”
“You should,” Kakuzu doesn’t smile, but there’s clear amusement in his voice. “Think I might also start learning some Polish.”
“Nah,” Hidan shrugs. “I don’t even know it myself. Like, mom never taught me. I just memorized a few words... and it’s fun teasing you, kochanie,” he smirks.
“For god’s sake.” Kakuzu rolls his eyes. “Don’t get all cheesy on me now.”
Hidan stifles a full-on laughter—but still smiles.
It’s so normal. Right.
“How are you feeling?” Kakuzu asks suddenly.
Really, now? Hidan shrugs and says, “Pretty fine. Why are you freaking out so much?”
“Because I’m worried?” Kakuzu gives him a strange look. “Hidan, you need to take this seriously as well.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Hidan mutters, runs a hand through his hair. “Look, it’s sweet, but I’m really fine. You can kinda see when I’m not.”
Just like he could see Hidan break his things.
A surge of guilt goes through him as he remembers that; and it’s worse because Kakuzu is acting as if nothing happened, as if he already forgot.
“Alright,” Kakuzu says, and his eyes soften somewhat. “Perhaps let’s not talk about that for now.”
“Yeah,” Hidan agrees.
Kakuzu reaches out to give his hand a slight reassuring squeeze, and then returns to typing.
“How long are you gonna work?” Hidan mutters, annoyed, and lowers his head on his crossed arms.
“Try to think logically.” Kakuzu doesn’t look away from the screen. “It’s not that hard. If I ignore my responsibilities, I’ll get fired.”
“Come on, what’s so important now?”
“I’m trying to prepare a presentation for the next lecture. For those few who don’t think that approaching holidays are an excuse to forget about studying.”
“The hell are you implying? I only have that fucking philosophy exam to pass next week.”
“And you need to try hard, because I am not going to ask Mrs Addison to take pity on you again.”
Hidan can’t help but snort; seriously, even Kakuzu addresses that old bitch formally, even though most professors are on a first-name basis.
And really, Mrs? Hidan would give a lot to see the psycho who married her.
“I imagine you have a lot to catch up after all those classes you’ve missed.”
“Amanda gave me her notes, I’ll manage somehow,” Hidan brushes him off.
“Speaking of which, what were you doing with her today?” Kakuzu asks suddenly; weird, Hidan didn’t think he would care even a bit.
And of course, he didn’t come up with any excuse.
“Well, uh... she was choosing some presents for her family,” he says the first thing that comes to mind—and besides, it’s partly true, Ams did buy some cheesy cards for her parents. “Don’t know why the hell she’d dragged me along, I wasn’t any help.”
“I see.” Kakuzu stares at the screen again, seemingly satisfied by the answer.
Hidan shifts in his seat nervously—that’s it? No more questions? It kinda feels like Hidan didn’t even have to answer.
“And you aren’t even bothered by that?”
Kakuzu does look at him—with obvious confusion.
“Should I be?”
“Eh...”
“Do you mean to ask if I’m jealous?” His confusion gives way to tired skepticism.
“Well...” Hidan trails off, because now that he’s said it, it sounds just fucking dumb.
Kakuzu seems to share his opinion; but he still replies, “No, because I trust you.”
Hidan goes silent; and before he manages to think of something else to say, Kakuzu’s phone suddenly buzzes.
He takes the phone, glances at the screen quickly and begins typing a reply. Once again, Hidan tries to stifle the unpleasant feeling; it’s just work, Kakuzu probably is right to not leave that person hanging.
But the words escape his mouth before he can stop himself.
“That guy again?” And from the look Kakuzu gives him, it seems he’s right. “Come on, really?”
Kakuzu shakes his head.
“I’m Itachi’s thesis advisor, Hidan. It’s only logical that he contacts me when he has questions regarding his work.”
“There! You’re doing that again!” Hidan snaps. “Why are you always calling him by his name?”
“I call all my students by their first names,” this time, irritation is clear in Kakuzu’s voice. “Except a few people who don’t like that.”
“Hmph.”
Hidan doesn’t really know how to reply. It sounds logical—well, it is—but he still feels uneasy.
Well, here you go again, Hidan, he thinks bitterly, ruining everything again.
Kakuzu sighs audibly and closes the laptop, giving him a serious look.
“It’s rather funny that you bring this up now. Do you not trust me?”
“I do!” Hidan objects and looks away briefly. “I... uh, I’m afraid you’ll find someone better?”
Kakuzu chuckles skeptically.
“Don’t you think that I have more reasons to fear that?”
“No, you’re fucking amazing,” Hidan says honestly. “And all I’ve got is good looks. There’s a whole lot of pretty guys out there.”
“You’re one of a kind.” It’s hard to understand if he’s joking or not. But the way he’s looking at him... Hidan almost feels a little warmer.
Kakuzu reaches out and covers Hidan’s hand with his, squeezing lightly. “You really are overreacting. I wouldn’t have anyone other than you here right now.”
Hidan doesn’t have anything to reply, as though all the words are suddenly gone from his mind; and so he just squeezes Kakuzu’s hand back.
He doesn’t really say that sort of thing often—and maybe Hidan didn’t even know he needed to hear that.
“I love you, you know,” he blurts out.
Kakuzu stays still for a few moments, as if taken aback, but then relaxes and gives him a brief half-smile. And it’s all Hidan needs, really.
“Y yo a ti. Now let me finish working, will you?”
“Always busy,” Hidan mutters, but does let go after a few more seconds.
The dumb smile refuses to leave his face for a while longer.
The dog seems really interested in the Christmas tree, walking around it and sniffing it curiously. It even tries to bite one of the lower branches, but quickly abandons that idea, literally jumping back.
Well, seems like it didn’t taste all that good. Alba snorts, shaking its head, and looks up at Hidan, seeming almost resentful.
“You’re a dumb dog,” Hidan states, bending down to look at the dog. It tilts its head, wags its tail, as if not understanding what’s wrong at all.
Though... come on, it’s a dog, what can it understand.
The dog puts its paw on Hidan’s knee and barks; and he can’t help but snicker. Shit, he’s getting too soft.
“What has Alba done to you again?”
Hidan turns around.
“It’s trying to eat our Christmas tree.”
“She’s just curious,” Kakuzu says, watching them. “She’s never seen one of those before.”
“Mhm.” Hidan sighs and scratches the dog behind the ear and straightens. Somehow he’s not even that annoyed. Must be the habit. Things wouldn’t be quite the same without it... though they certainly would be much calmer. “Okay, now, let me finish with this.”
“Alba, ven acá,” Kakuzu says, and the dog reluctantly walks towards him and lies down on the floor next to his feet.
Hidan narrows his eyes, studying his work so far.
It’s mostly done, but there’s still an empty space closer to the top of the tree; Hidan takes another ball—red, semi-transparent, with a silver pattern all over it. It looks pretty—he definitely wants to put it on the tree. And all the other stuff, too.
Maybe it looks a little too over-the-top and bright and flashy; but Hidan still likes it.
It’s their Christmas tree, after all.
Even though Kakuzu hardly took part in decorating, he still had bought all the stuff; and just the fact that he went along with Hidan’s idea means a lot to him.
Hidan thinks he could reach the top of the tree with a bit of effort, but he’d much rather get Kakuzu to participate as well.
“Can you help?” he asks, not looking back. “It’s too high.”
Kakuzu lets out an exasperated sigh but does come closer and takes the ball from Hidan’s hands.
“And where do you want to hang it?”
“Up there, of course,” Hidan chuckles. “You decide.”
Kakuzu huffs something incomprehensible but still complies. And maybe it’s wishful thinking, but Hidan is sure he actually gives it some thought.
“And all the others, proszę? Pretty please?” Hidan shoves the box with the remaining decorations into his hands.
“Why don’t you do this yourself?”
“Don’t you want to add your own touch?” Hidan smirks at him.
“Not exactly...” Kakuzu stares at the box, at the tree and then at Hidan. Then sighs again. “If you want to, I suppose it won’t hurt.”
Hidan’s grin grows wider, and he just watches as Kakuzu puts the box down, takes one of the glittery balls and puts it on the tree. He looks just so genuinely confused and even kinda out of place.
And here Hidan thought he was the one who’d never celebrated before.
“It’s weird,” Kakuzu admits. “Last time I decorated the house for Christmas... guess it’s been a while.” He frowns, and the emotion in his eyes is hard to read. Is he remembering something bad?
Hidan doesn’t want him to, and so he leans forward, brushing his lips against Kakuzu’s cheek. He doesn’t know what to say, but his action seems to work just fine—Kakuzu chuckles quietly and shakes his head.
“Well, I wouldn’t mind making this a new tradition.”
Hidan doesn’t hold back a wide grin, hearing this.
Kakuzu never really talks about his past, save for some general facts, and he doesn’t say anything new now. It’s not that he doesn’t trust Hidan; it’s probably because he just isn’t used to being that open with someone. Hidan knows that feeling too well himself.
Maybe Kakuzu will tell him everything eventually.
Maybe it’s actually not that important.
“So what do you think?” Hidan asks to brush off the awkwardness.
“It looks fine,” Kakuzu shrugs. “Not like I know much about this sort of thing.”
“Hey, it’s pretty,” Hidan says. “And it all goes together nice. I don’t believe for a second you’ve just bought the first things you saw.”
“I did exactly that.”
“What, you didn’t even drive the salespeople mad with questions?” Hidan pretends to be surprised.
Kakuzu chuckles.
“They were lucky I ordered everything online.”
“You’re keeping up with technology!” Hidan tries to maintain a shocked expression but fails and laughs.
Kakuzu presses a hand to his forehead, but Hidan can see his mouth twitch briefly as he tries to hold back a smile.
Once they’re more or less done with decorating, Hidan takes out the Christmas lights.
“Where should we put this shit?”
“On the tree as well?” Kakuzu says half-questioningly. “Or wherever you want. I don’t care.”
“Your lack of interest pisses me off,” Hidan says, looks at the lights. There’s a thought that he immediately voices, “Hey, how about we wrap ourselves in it and take a picture?”
Kakuzu raises his eyebrow.
“I’m serious!”
“Hidan, don’t test my patience.”
“Come on! It’s fun, I saw that...” Hidan bites his lip, trying to remember on whose page he’d seen that picture, but then shakes his head. “Eh, somewhere.”
Kakuzu is still looking at him like he’s a total idiot—and frankly, Hidan can’t even argue with that—and so he has to relent.
He places the lights on the tree clumsily—it doesn’t look all that pretty, but he’ll fix it later. Maybe.
“But we can just take a picture?” he still insists.
“You know perfectly well I hate that.”
“The last time—the only!—we took a picture together was a year ago. It ain’t fair.”
“Half a year,” Kakuzu corrects. “And no.”
“And if I ask real nice?”
Kakuzu only stares at him with the same skeptical expression.
“Come on, kochanie, can’t you do this for me?” Hidan throws his arms on his shoulders.
“It won’t work this time,” Kakuzu chuckles but doesn’t push him away.
“Really, why does your Spanish always work on me, but not the other way around?” Hidan exhales, a bit disappointed, rubs his nose against his cheek and quickly kisses one of the most noticeable scars. Kakuzu doesn’t tense like he used to before, allowing him this; and Hidan doesn’t rush to pull away.
“I’m immune to nice words.”
“I’ll fix that,” Hidan promises, grinning.
Kakuzu doesn’t really have the chance to argue for the next few seconds as Hidan kisses him, but the moment is soon ruined again.
Why did it have to be now when the dog decided to knock down the Christmas tree?
“For fuck’s sake— what the fuck are you even doing!” Hidan snaps, not sure what to try and rescue first—the dangerously shaking tree or that stupid dog who’s got all tangled in the Christmas lights. How the hell did it even get those all over itself? “Can’t you watch it?”
“What are you here for?” Kakuzu retorts.
Luckily, the tree keeps its balance—even though a few of the decorations did fall down, nothing broke, and that’s a fucking wonder. With how much time Hidan has spent on this... Alba is one lucky dog.
Though it looks so ridiculous now that Hidan fails to hold back a laugh.
“Idiot dog,” he still grumbles as they begin to untangle Alba—it’s not helping much, whining and barking and making all sorts of noises.
“No lo escuches, Alba,” Kakuzu pets the dog comfortingly before removing the wire from its paw.
Hidan just rolls his eyes at that. Yeah, his good girl is never in the wrong.
Once Alba’s free, it begins to jump around Hidan, tail wagging like crazy, and Hidan isn’t quite sure what that means, but he still ruffles its grayish brown fur briefly. It’s soft—and actually feels kinda nice.
“Hey, think the doggo’s warming up to me.”
“You’ve just saved her,” Kakuzu fails to stifle a brief chuckle. “I told you. You just need to get used to each other.”
“Mhm.” For once, Hidan doesn’t feel like arguing; and he can admit that Kakuzu is right here. Maybe the dog is still annoying sometimes... but it can be cute too.
Finally, they seem to be done. The dog is curled up near the wall, throwing suspicious glances at the Christmas tree—which has survived the vicious attack and even looks pretty good still. Here’s to hoping it’ll stay that way... though with this crazy ball of fur it’s impossible to be sure.
Hidan gets on the couch, pulling his legs to his chest, and looks around the room. Something’s lacking, he thinks.
“We should get some more decorations for the room,” he voices this thought. “Maybe the whole house. To make it real pretty.”
“I think this is an overkill already,” Kakuzu says as he sits next to Hidan, not sounding any thrilled.
Yeah, so much for the holiday mood; though it’s not like he ever cared about that—Hidan isn’t sure what he expected.
But there’s still plenty of time—Hidan will think of a way to convince him.
And for now, he just leans in to kiss him—to pull away in a moment.
Okay, this is starting to seem harder than he thought before.
“What is it?” Kakuzu frowns slightly, noticing the change in his mood.
“Nothing much,” Hidan shrugs and reaches out, running his fingers through Kakuzu’s hair. It feels smooth and somehow calming, so he finally begins, “Well, I...” and then trails off. It’s kinda awkward and perhaps he should’ve saved it for the actual Christmas; but then it wouldn’t be an apology.
And he kind of intended for it to be just that.
“Just spit it out.” Kakuzu catches his hand and brings it to his lips, kissing the still battered knuckles briefly—a simple gesture, but somehow Hidan once again forgets everything he wanted to say.
It’s still hard to get used to. What he’s doing to him—Hidan had never imagined before that someone could make him feel this way.
And there’s really nothing that special, simple things, simple words—but Hidan can’t seem to get enough of him.
And this—this is something worth trying for, he thinks, because just how fucking dumb would it be if Hidan let everything fall apart because of his pride. Or because of the fact he simply sucks at apologies.
“I kinda have a gift for you,” he finally blurts out.
Kakuzu blinks, looking a little confused.
“It’s rather early for presents,” amusement flashes in his eyes, and Hidan finds himself at a loss for a moment, unable to look away.
How dumb is this all, really.
“Yeah, but... I haven’t really apologized.”
Kakuzu’s look becomes serious, and he puts a hand on Hidan’s shoulder. The way he’s looking at him is intent and a bit worried, though there’s no reason to worry now.
“I know you didn’t mean it. It’s difficult for you, and... it’s not that important.”
Here he goes again; as if Hidan doesn’t know how important that stuff actually was for him. Kakuzu clearly tries not to make him feel guilty, but Hidan only ends up feeling more guilty than he already did. It’s not a pleasant feeling; but he deserves it, probably.
“Still, I wanted to make up for that,” Hidan says, quiet and serious. “’Cause I’m sorry. I didn’t want to do— any of that shit. I just... yeah. You know. Well. So, uh... I’ll go get it?”
Apparently he still sucks at apologizing.
Kakuzu looks at him for a few moments, then runs a hand through his hair. “I suppose?”
He somehow sounds just as uncertain, as though he’s too taken aback and has no idea how to react.
For some reason Hidan wonders if he’s used to that—gifts and such. If he hasn’t celebrated Christmas in quite a while, he probably hasn’t gotten gifts, too.
And Hidan has never given gifts to anyone.
Not that he ever really had a chance.
“So... Sorry and Merry early Christmas?” Hidan chuckles awkwardly, shoving the box into his hands. It’s packed nicely in the wrapping paper—looks pretty, but he doesn’t even want to remember how fucking much that cost him.
“Thanks?” Kakuzu still seems somewhat dumbfounded.
They both must look like total idiots now.
Finally, Kakuzu unwraps the box—opens it and kind of just stares at the contents. Then slowly starts going through them, taking his time to examine each little thing.
Hidan thinks he’s about to freak out.
Does he like it? Hate it? They haven’t managed to find exactly the same pencils and whatnot that he had before—mostly because Hidan never bothered to memorize all the brands—so maybe it’s worse? If something’s expensive, it doesn’t always mean it’s great quality.
Kakuzu still says nothing, and his expression is hard to read.
Hidan watches him tensely, trying to understand what he’s thinking—he doesn’t last long.
“I don’t know nothing about this, you know,” he says hastily. “Is it... that bad?”
Kakuzu looks up at him—and suddenly smiles.
He still rarely allows himself to smile so openly, and each time Hidan, like a complete idiot, just can’t get enough of it.
“Not at all. But you shouldn’t have.”
“But I—”
Kakuzu doesn’t let him finish, instead leaning forward and kissing him.
“Gracias,” he says quietly as he pulls away. “I’ll have to get you something equal in return.”
“No need,” Hidan shakes his head, feeling the dumb smile appear on his face again. “You’re here, that’s enough.”
“Hm.” Kakuzu frowns a little. “I don’t think it counts. I’ll think of something.”
Hidan laughs. “You’re too sweet, really.”
“You’re a bad influence.”
“I’ll take it as a compliment.”
Kakuzu shakes his head, his lips pressed tightly as though he’s trying not to laugh; and then he just pulls Hidan closer, entwining his fingers in his hair. It feels right now, when they have actually put all that shit behind them.
It might still be hard—hell, it will be, because things are never easy— but they’re trying.
And it’s—maybe, enough.