(Another random idea for a yaoi. This just a one-shot, but please read the Author's Note at the bottom. Enjoy!)

Shikamaru often times wondered if maybe, things could have been different had he done a better job. Dug that bastard out of his grave and pounded him into unfixable mush. Or scattered the body across the entire forest, feeding him to the birds.

But it's way too late for that now. Now, things will never be the same. He'll never get rid of this pest. He'll never be the same person he was. He'll never be able to explain to his friends why he's been so scarce lately or why every time they do see him he has a new cut, a new bruise, a new scar.

He'll never be free again.

Shikamaru had lost track of how long his own home had been hell. How long it's been since he'd been allowed to do the simplest things, such as getting to nap in the shade underneath his favorite tree. It felt like centuries had gone by, when really it had probably only been a couple of years.

But every night that went by seemed to be a hundred nights. He always looked forward to being able to sleep. It was the only way to escape this hell, to escape the pain. But he never knew when sleep would come.

Hidan was determined to make the Nara miserable until the day he died.

"Hidan! Please, stop!"

"Shut up bitch!"

"Haah!"

It was like this day after day, night after night. Whenever the immortal got the urge, Shikamaru had better be there or he'd pay for it dearly later. But it was always worse at night.

Always.

Hidan raked his nails down the brunette's pale chest, producing 10 new scratches on the Nara's body. 10 more scars to add.

Shikamaru found himself on his back or stomach several times each day, the ex akatsuki member on top of him. Dozens of cuts, bruises, and scars marred the younger man's body, all put there by one person.

Tears streamed down his face. He tried not to cry, because it only made Hidan happier, but he couldn't stop himself sometimes.

"Aw what's the matter?"

He hated it when Hidan did that. Mocked him. Which he did often. Even worse than being mocked though, was the way the Jashinist would always gloat about killing Asuma. How easy it was. The horrified look on the jonin's face right before he died, and his screams of agony. It made Shikamaru want to scream, cry, and beat the stupid fuck into a puddle of bones and blood.

The immortal thrusted into Shikamaru again, earning a pained cry from the smaller man. The young Nara was always so sore; sometimes he could hardly even walk. And yet, the Jashinist was still relentless.

Shikamaru would often find Hidan alone in one of the rooms of the apartment, head in his hands, crying about his lost partner. Sometimes he would just sit and talk to the Nara about his time with Kakuzu. The fights, the sex, the tender moments, it made Shikamaru feel bad, but what was he supposed to do about it? Kakuzu was dead. It was unfortunate that Hidan wasn't the same.

The immortal blamed Shikamaru for Kakuzu's death too. If he hadn't tricked him, and led him away from his partner, the miser would still be alive.

The Nara guessed that it was part his fault. But who could honestly blame him? Besides Hidan of course.

Beads of sweat were rolling down his face, mixing with the tears, and the blood from his eye, where Hidan had slapped him, cutting the skin on the outside of his left eye with a ring. By morning, he was positive he'd have another black eye.

He pulled hard against the ropes tying him to his own bed, his hitched breathing often being replaced by yelps of pain as the immortal moved.

Shikamaru always asked himself how Hidan got out of that pit, how he got put back together. By who. There was no way he'd have been able to get out on his own, buried under all that rock, his limbs and body blown away from his head. He didn't know how anybody else would have gotten into the forest anyway. Either way, somebody did, and now Hidan was back and gunning for revenge.

The Nara was often afraid that the Jashinist would punish him for never coming, but he never said a word. It was like he didn't even care. So long as he was enjoying it, it wasn't his problem if Shikamaru was or not. This, in a way, was kind of a relief. One less thing to be punished for.

Hidan's nails were digging into the Nara's hips like the usually were, cutting open older cuts, and making new ones. Shikamaru's entire body felt like it was burning from all the places the immortals nails and teeth had been that day, and the slightest movement put him in even more pain. He couldn't stop the tears, as much as he wanted to. The physical and emotional pain of it all was too much.

Hidan came with a relieved cry, Shikamaru finally allowing his own cry of pure misery to escape his throat. Hidan pulled out, dragging his nails down Shikamaru's thighs.

"Oh suck it up you pathetic piece of shit."

The words stung, but Shikamaru was starting to get used to it. Hidan said something like that after every round, and sadly, as much as the Nara knew it wasn't true, he was starting to believe it was. To sum up the most common things Hidan said, Shikamaru was pathetic, worthless, trash that never was, isn't, and never will be anything but a stupid piece of shit.

"Be thankful that I'm tired. You better dry up those tears before I rip your eyes out."

Hidan growled, stalking out of the room. Good. That meant Shikamaru would be left alone until morning. The only problem was that the bastard had left him tied up, so that meant he wouldn't be able to wipe his face, or take care of his wounds. He hated it when Hidan did that.

It took him awhile to clam himself down and get the tears to stop, because every time he did manage to stop, a minute later he was crying again. He hated this. He just wanted it to all end. He was too much of a coward to kill himself though. Every day he wished for the immortal to get sick of him and finish him off. But it never happened.

Why did this happen to me? What's the point? What did I do to deserve this?

Shikamaru thought, his chest heaving up and down quickly as he tried to calm his breathing. Hours later, he was still awake, unable to fall asleep. He was always so tired because he only got a few hours of sleep each night. It was impossible for him to get any real sleep, unfortunately for him. Unless he fell unconscious, he normally wouldn't get any more than two, maybe three or four hours. Tops.

He knew that Hidan was probably dead asleep by now, as Shikamaru always waited a few hours before getting up to clean his wounds. He learned to wait until the immortal was asleep before moving around at night, other wise he would be punished again, if not immediately, the next morning. But, considering Hidan had left him tied up, the starving, tired, and abused boy would have to wait till morning to eat and get clean. If Hidan let him eat, that is. Usually if he was left tied up, the immortal would leave him there. Hell would freeze over before Hidan fed him. If the Nara couldn't feed himself, he didn't get food. He also only let Shikamaru eat just enough to barely survive, so if too much food was missing the next day, the brunette was in for a brutal beating. Because of this food limit, Shikamaru had lost an incredible amount of weight. His body wasn't a thick and toned as it used to be, there being barely any meat left on his body. It didn't make him look anorexic, but he still looked incredibly unhealthy, which he was. His skin was sickly and pale, his eyes now a dull version of what they used to be.

To put it simply, Shikamaru's entire self was a dull version of what it used to be.

And he just wanted to die.

(Aw! Poor Shika. :( Why must I torture them so? Eh, it's fun. Anyway, This is just a one-shot, so there won't be any more updates for this story. However, I am planning on writing a sequel to it, which will be a chapter story. It will be a KibaShika and you can read about it on my profile. But I must let you know that I will not be starting the sequel to this until I have finished my KakuHida story, White Rabbit. Please check it out if you'd like, and don't feel shy to review and tell me what you think, or give me some constructive criticism, whatever. :) Thanks for reading!)