The Fine Print

- Part One -

Inheritance

::

By no means did Sakura feel obligated to repay the extensive list of bizarre IOU's her great-great uncle had left her - all meticulously detailed and listed in a journal that Sakura had mistaken for a cookbook when she'd been going through the old coot's attic - but, if she wanted to get rid of that damned rune burned onto her palm and the demon haunting her apartment, it looked like she was shit out of luck until she finished repaying his debts.

Okay, technically the list hadn't been explicitly left for her. When Uncle Maseo had passed peacefully in his sleep earlier that week, her parents had been alerted of what he'd written in his 'will'.

"I plan on outliving everyone but if I happen to kick the bucket early, tell whoever's left of blood relation that they can have what they want out of all my worldly possessions. Except my stuffed rat, the one with the super glued googly eyes. I better be buried with that or I'm coming back."

Uncle Maseo had always been an… eccentric fellow. And Sakura had always suspected that he'd dabbled a little in black magic but this was ridiculous.

The moment she'd opened that damned book, picking through the dusty, forgotten contents of his attic for something worth keeping while she helped clean up, there'd been a flash of light and a brief message on the front page, which appeared just long enough for her to take note of in her sudden stupor.

"This shit's your problem now, have fun."

And then she'd felt a burning sensation in her palm, shrieking in panic as an odd symbol appeared on her skin. A crack of thunder, the pain stopping just as quickly as it had begun, and then an eerie calmness in the air. The message was gone but the rune refused to leave, now looking more like someone had drawn on her palm with a permanent marker.

She'd panicked a bit at the discovery, rubbing her hand against her pants vigorously, before turning her attention to the book in her hand. Sakura had quickly flipped through the journal, expression turning into one of confusion as she read.

· September 12, 1945 – Ken Ito: $35 and a box turtle.

· August 5, 1942 – Jeremy Smith: One jar of strawberry jam and 12 pounds of sugar.

· January ?, 1956 – Madame Babineaux: Lock of fox fur, cut with silver scissors and wrapped in velvet.

· May 24, 2001 - Old Lady With Mulberry-Wood Cane, Met in the Park: Vial of virgin blood and 12 new pennies. (Note: Do NOT use human blood, the old hag never specified the source anyways.)

· October 13, 1975 – Mr. and Mrs. Shuzo Gato: One peach tree sapling.

· July ?, ? – FÖRSTNER, that jackass: Claims I owe him two new shirts and bride, will accept a gecko and AT LEAST $20.

· April 18, 2007 - Rebecca Ohayashi: Two coconuts and an iguana.

And the list went on, each item more obscure and strange than the last. The dates were out of order, the names unfamiliar, and the footnotes were of no help. Through a few extra notes, she at least managed to figure out that the lists were of things Uncle Maseo owed, rather than received.

Some were already crossed out and while that might have been comforting in theory, she wasn't so sure she wanted to know how he had managed to get ahold of items like "a human kidney" and, unrelated, "three index fingers."

Scratching at her palm, Sakura had shoved the journal back into the dusty box in the attic and made a hasty retreat. There was no telling what other creepy things were lurking in the old man's house and she wasn't too inclined to find out. And like hell she was keeping that weird, probably cursed journal.

Three hours later found her back at her apartment, fresh out of a shower and rubbing hand sanitizer onto that weird symbol still on her palm to no avail. Dressed in pajamas, phone in the crook of her arm, and her hair bundled up in a towel, Sakura made her way into her living room, frustrated to no end but hoping that a movie might calm her down.

Only, she quickly became aware that she wasn't alone.

Sakura paused in the entryway to her living room, balking at the sight of an unfamiliar man sitting on her couch, all casual and relaxed - as if he belonged there.

Silver hair, magenta eyes, pitch black skin covered in bone-white skeleton-like tattoos, twisted, ash-grey horns jutting out of his skull and curving like a ram's -

And a very familiar journal in his hands.

"The fuckin' squirrels are gonna be hell to catch," he said without looking up at her – though he was obviously aware of her presence – before turning a page in the journal. "But, I'll be more impressed if you actually go through with the grave-robbery."

Sakura screamed.

He looked a little amused as she scrambled back out of the room and rushed into the kitchen, grabbing a knife and fumbling with her cellphone. Rushing back to her living room, she found the strange man still on her couch and, trying not to let her hands shake, she brandished both her knife and phone.

"I don't know who the hell you are or how you got in here but you better get the fuck out! I'm calling the cops!"

His smirk turned into more a sneer and he simply snapped his fingers, posture still unsettlingly relaxed. Almost instantly there was searing pain in one of her hands as the knife turned red hot and she gave a shriek, a mix of pain and surprise, before dropping the blade as it quite literally burned her. It cooled the moment it hit the ground, resting innocently on her carpet as she stared down at it. Quickly becoming aware of a distinct emptiness in her other hand, Sakura glanced to it and realized her phone was missing.

Looking back to the intruder, she could only stare in both bafflement and horror as she noticed he was now holding her phone. She'd only been halfway through dialing the emergency number when it had been magicked out of her hand and, with a smirk, the man turned her cellphone off before tossing it carelessly onto the seat beside him.

Sakura gaped openly, carefully touching her sore fingertips as she searched for some way to respond.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Hidan." He replied with a shrug.

She swayed backwards slightly, expression hesitant. She… hadn't actually expected him to answer.

"Alright… Hidan." She spoke carefully and glanced around, almost searching for some sort of portal to Hell, because this guy definitely wasn't human. She took another moment to look over those odd tattoos – which she had a very ample view of due to the fact that he was only dressed in a pair of dark grey pants - and the horns before rubbing her face.

"Why are you here…?"

His expression turned annoyed and he simply held up the journal, waving it at her.

"That old asshat managed to actually get a curse right for once."

Eyebrows furrowed, Sakura carefully leaned against the doorframe, gaze zeroed in on the book. "Uncle Maseo..?"

"Duh."

Resisting the urge to grit her teeth, she massaged her temples and shot Hidan a glare. "What the hell is going on?"

He made a face at her, snorting before snapping the journal open again, and hunching over slightly as he squinted at the pages. Running a clawed finger over a page, not hard enough to actually rip the paper, he sneered again before leaning back and kicking his legs up to rest on her coffee table.

"As far as I can tell, I'm stuck here until someone – hint, it's you, princess – repays the old coot's debts."

"E-excuse me?"

Hidan gave her another annoyed look, ignoring the glare she was shooting his crossed legs on her table, and shook the book at her again.

"Ya dense or somethin'? I'm bound to this damned journal and I'd highly suggest you get your cute ass in gear and start paying back these IOUs or this is gonna be one hell of a fucking shitty sleepover."

Ignoring his comment in favor of stomping over and kicking at his legs before snatching the journal, Sakura frowned down at the neat handwriting.

"If you're… bound to this thing, why don't you just leave and take it with you? Why the hell do you have to be here?"

A scoff, at which Sakura pursed her lips in distaste.

"Don't you think I would have fuckin' hit the road already if I could?"

Nearly screaming in frustration, Sakura stomped her way back into the kitchen, vaguely aware of Hidan leisurely rising from the couch and following after her as she rummaged around in the drawers next to the oven. Finally finding a box of matches, she lit one and held it to the journal, teeth gritting as she waited for the pages to catch before dropping it into her empty sink. Spinning back around, she planted her hands on her hips and nodded towards the small fire burning behind her.

"There! Problem solved."

A little drastic but –

"Think again, princess."

Hidan sent her a less than impressed look and crossed his arms, sneering at her sink. Almost reluctantly, Sakura turned around and looked down in unveiled horror at the journal, the entirety of the book engulfed in flame but, somehow, perfectly fine.

Making an odd, half-choked sound, Sakura numbly turned on the water faucet, waiting until the flames were extinguished before hesitantly picking the book up. It wasn't even warm – wasn't even wet – and Sakura sent the demon a rather pleading look over her shoulder.

"What the hell even is this journal?"

He shrugged and leaned against her stove, arms crossed over his bare chest.

"It's cursed, obviously."

"And just what does that have to do with me?!"

Another sneer, though this one seemed more bemused than the last, and he grabbed her wrist, holding up her hand with the odd symbol marking her palm. Dropping her arm, he turned his back to her and jabbed a thumb at the back of his neck. There, just a few shades lighter than his skin, was an identical rune. An inverted triangle inside a simple circle.

"You're cursed. That fuckin' mark is mine."

"And why am I cursed?"

He spun back around and sent her a frustrated look, lip pulled up as he nearly growled in irritation.

"Cause you fucking opened that damned book!"

Rubbing at her face, Sakura gave a tired sigh and groaned under her breath. 'This shit's you're problem now.' The journal had said. 'Have fun.'

Right.

Leaning against her sink, she flipped open the journal and started skimming the pages. From what she could see, a majority of the items had already been scratched through. But there were still pages of IOUs.

"So," She finally said after a moment, glancing up at Hidan, "I just need to finish paying back the rest of the stuff on the list and you'll leave?"

"Probably."

Resisting the urge to slap him, Sakura grit her teeth and dropped her gaze back down at the pages, eyes narrowing.

"Where the hell am I supposed to get a Faberge egg?!"

He sent her another shrug, lips twisted in a smug smirk. "I'm not here to help you, princess. My job is to just haunt the shit outta you and make sure you pay back the old man's debts. Where and how you get the shit isn't my problem."

Sighing, Sakura dropped the book onto her counter and tugged the towel off her head, running her fingers through her still slightly-damn hair.

"Fine. And stop calling me 'princess'."

She missed the way he rolled his odd purple eyes at her, silver eyebrow raised. "Well, I don't know your fuckin' name, now do I, princess?"

Flushing slightly, Sakura draped the towel over her arm and moved to leave the kitchen, grabbing the book after a second thought.

"Oh, uhm. I'm Sakura."

She pointedly ignored his grin but was aware of Hidan following after her, the light catching and glinting off the curves of his horns.

"Well, Sakura," He draped an arm over her shoulders, acting much too buddy-buddy for her tastes – which she made apparent by pursing her lips before attempting to squirm out from under his arm. "Where's the guest room? I could use a looong, fuckin' nap."

She made a face and shoved him off of her, lip curled and the journal clutched to her chest.

"No. You are not a house guest."

"Then where the fuck am I sleeping?"

Sakura sent a pointed look at the couch he'd been lounging on earlier and he quickly shot her a glare.

"I could be here for months – like hell I'm sleeping on your damned couch!"

::

Sakura tapped her foot impatiently, her messenger back slung over her shoulder and a box under one arm as she scrolled through her phone with her free hand. It was a pretty nice day out, but she could see storm clouds rolling in from the distance and she really didn't want to get stuck in the rain.

"Pizza tonight?" She called over her shoulder, not bothering to glance back at Hidan, who was leaning against the porch railing of the nice suburban house they were visiting, her gaze still glued to her phone screen.

Arms crossed, the demon shrugged and flicked a leaf off the black sleeve of his – admittedly, damn nice – suit, looking very out of place next to her. His horns, oddly colored skin, and tattoos were hidden behind his glamour, silver hair still slicked back and magenta eyes bored as he glanced around his surroundings with distaste. His skin still looked a little grey and there was no hiding the rune burned on the back of his neck – her matching mark still present on her palm – but Sakura was more than relieved that he wasn't running around without a shirt.

"Depends," Hidan answered, absentmindedly picking at his teeth, "You makin' it from scratch or are we ordering?"

It had been a little over a month since the demon had first 'arrived' and, after the long process of sorting out which IOUs Sakura would need to handle, scouring Uncle Maseo's house for an address book or something that would at least give her a head start on matching names to actual people, she'd finally begun repaying his debts. So far, she'd had pretty decent luck finding the people on the list and delivering the items Uncle Maseo had owed, with Hidan as a near constant companion.

Eyebrow quirked, Sakura looked back at him, locking her phone and slipping it into her pocket.

"Last time I attempted making one from scratch, you tried to add a bunch of toppings from literal Hell."

Hidan made a face, snorting at her response.

"Pickled bat wings are fucking delicious."

She was just about to reply, fully prepared to shoot down all of his disgusting suggestions, when the door finally opened and Sakura quickly turned her attention forward once more.

Standing in the doorway was a young woman, who regarded them with unveiled – albeit rather annoyed - curiosity, her gaze darting from the pleasantly smiling pinkette to the sour-looking man leaning against the wooden railing.

"That's them, Mama." The little boy clutching her leg – he'd been the one to first answer the door before quickly rushing off to find his mother at Sakura's beckoning – murmured shyly, half hiding behind the woman.

"May I help you..?"

Sakura put on her most charming smile, shifting her hold on the box under her arm.

"Yes, good afternoon. My name is Sakura – is this Miguel Sorrentino's residence?"

The woman's eyebrows furrowed slightly and she shooed the boy away, crossing her arms as she regarded the two strangers on her porch.

"Yes."

Sakura's smile widened – check! – and nodded in thanks.

"May I speak with him?"

"You're about three months too late." The woman deadpanned.

"O-oh?"

"He passed away in January."

Sakura blinked, taking in this information. She heard Hidan straighten behind her and quickly offered her hurried condolences to the woman before glancing back at him – they hadn't faced a roadblock like this one yet.

"Now what?" She hissed at the demon, the other woman watching them with growing suspicion. "Am I expected to break into a cemetery or something?"

Hidan rubbed the back of his neck before shrugging, lips twisted in a confused grimace.

"How the hell should I know? Next of kin should be fine…? Maybe?"

Sakura quickly snapped her attention back to the frowning woman, her smile more awkward than charming now.

"You wouldn't happen to be rela-"

"I'm his granddaughter." She interrupted with another deadpan, lips pursed and expression rather exasperated.

"Excellent! This is for you, from Maseo Haruno." Shoving the box into the woman's arms, Sakura gave a quick bow and pulled a weathered journal out of her bag, quickly flipping it open to a page towards the middle. While the other woman fumbled with the box in surprise, Sakura grinned as she watched 'December 20, 1987 - Miguel Sorrentino' magically cross itself out.

"Perfect! Thanks so much, ma'am!"

The woman sent the pair a bewildered look as they began to leave, carefully lifting the lid off the box and peering inside before balking at its contents.

"Wait! What am I supposed to do with a miniature tuba?!"

"Yes, have a nice day!" Sakura called, taking Hidan's arm as she hurried down the street.

Once they were a block or so away, she slipped her phone back out of her pocket and checked 'Miguel Sorrentino – one miniature tuba' off her own, digital list, Hidan walking next to her and whistling happily.

"Another one dealt with. And I'll make a note that giving the stuff to family members works just fine if the original person is deceased." She muttered to herself, scrolling through her notes for this annoying 'project'. After a moment, she grimaced and let out a sigh, shoving her cell back into her pocket.

"I've estimated that I'm going to need at least $1,673 in cash for some of these IOUs. Not including the budget I'll need for buying some of this shit." Groaning in frustration, Sakura ran her hands down her face, frowning up at the darkening sky. As rain began to fall, she was pleasantly surprised to find the demon snapping his fingers to summon an umbrella, holding it over the pair of them as they walked.

"Why couldn't the old man have left me a small fortune too?"

Hidan hummed in reply, lips quirked in a smirk.

"How about some fuckin' salamander eyes? They taste just like olives, I swear."

"Hell no!"

::

notes: something i wrote for the 'weird inheritance' prompt: "you died and left me to repay a bunch of really weird IOUs" over on tumblr a while back

there's a part two that i completed today and posted on tumblr, but ill upload it here tomorrow

hope you enjoyed!