Typical fic of Akatsuki members as teenagers. This one focuses on Dan-chan (Hidan) with a little of Kakuzu thrown in for good measure XP

Hidanand Kakuzu©Masashi Kishimoto

I do not own Linkin Park, sadly. Nor do I own Chester Benington. Or LostProphets.

Bit of back-story to this; Hidan works during the evenings, goes to college during the day. He pays cheap rent for his small apartment, which he earns from his dark job, and Kakuzu is his friend from college. Hidan later drags Kakuzu into the business.

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A loud clap of thunder sounded, making Hidan start from his troubled sleep. Dazed momentarily, he let his gaze flicker around him. He realised where he was and, slowly coming round, forced his brain to recollect what had happened. Painfully, he remembered each and every detail. He grimaced as he sat up, stretching a deep and gaping cut across his lower back. He didn't care. The pain was a release. The stinging lines etched into his back took his mind off of his dreams…

His dreams, and his reality.

No one understood. Hidan wasn't just a troubled 19-year-old kid. He had serious shit to think about. People saw his arms when he reached up and his sleeves fell back, saw a glimpse of his back when his shirt lifted and they put him into an instant category. Self-harmer. Attention-seeking. In need of a little bit of TLC and some therapy. They had him all wrong. His problems couldn't be solved by some fucktard asking him how he felt about that every Friday. He didn't walk to talk to someone. He knew exactly how he felt, knew what had happened and knew how other people saw him. They'd never understand and he didn't give a damn. He was an outcast, and that was why he was here. In the middle of a field forsaken even by Jashin-sama, in the middle of a fucking thunderstorm! All for the sake of doing the one thing that not a soul could take from him… worshipping Jashin.

As he staggered to his aching feet, trying not to think about his more recent dreams, he felt the pain in his back spread to the rest of his body as the numbness of the cold faded. Hidan let the sensation consume him for a few moments, standing stock-still. Then, with a long sigh, he picked up his plain black hoodie and yanked it over his head. Its thick, dark, man-made material was perfect for hiding the blood.

Hidan clutched the cuffs of the hoodie tightly, pulling the sleeves long over his scarred arms, and then shoved his hands forcefully into the pockets of his baggy jeans. He trudged off towards the distant lights of the city, leaving his blood-coated weaponry in the rain. Off to the land of civilisation.

Civilisation my arse.

Slam. The door to his tiny, 12th-floor, open-plan flat flew open and Hidan stood in the doorway. Surveyed the mess. Walked in, glanced over to the already-drawn curtains and, satisfied, threw off his hoodie. He pushed play on his hi-fi and loud music blasted out of the small stereo system, the voice of Linkin Park's front man Chester Benington filling the small room.

It's easier to run…

Sitting heavily on his battered old sofa, Hidan closed his eyes. He allowed his mind to wander onto what had happened in the dream he'd had whilst unconscious in the field.

"Daddy… where's nii-… Dad- no! What are you doing to nii-san?"

Manic laughter. The glint of teeth and violet eyes. Blood glistening over murderous hands.

"One of you had to go, son… Be glad I chose him and not you…"

"What? Daddy? What do you…?"

More laughter, but a chuckle this time. A tall figure loomed over him, the expression on the once kind face of his father now emotionless. A wet hand forced him to look upon the body of his dead brother. That laughter rang out once more, and the forceful hand let go of his face, but left blood upon it.

It had been raining, but nothing could wash that blood off.

Hidan woke to a click. He hadn't realised he'd fallen asleep again. His hands went to his cheek… completely clean, no blood, but it felt like the blood would remain there forever.

The room was silent, and Hidan figured the CD must have finished, meaning he was asleep for about an hour…

A muffled sound came from behind him. Hidan snapped fully awake and sat up straight, which he instantly regretted.

Kakuzu. It must have been- he had leant him his spare key to get in and pick up some spare uniform after Kakuzu had stained his white shirt red. No one else had a key to this apartment.

"Uh… Hidan...? I came by to drop off the key, thought I'd put it on the table considering you didn't answer." There was a hint of irritation in Kakuzu's voice, but it went instantly. "Guess you were asleep."

"Yeah." Hidan wasn't in the mood for small talk. Kakuzu was probably the closest he had to a friend but he wasn't a friend, and wouldn't be if Hidan could help it. Besides, Hidan couldn't do much. If he stood up as he was he'd reveal his cuts and if he reached to get his hoodie he'd go into Kakuzu's full view anyway. So he remained still. "Just put them on the table."

Fuck! The table was further into the room, and from the table Kakuzu would be able see Hidan properly.

Too late. Kakuzu was standing by the small metallic table, his hand hovering over where he had put the keys, his eyes drinking in Hidan.

Awkwardly, Kakuzu looked away when he realised Hidan was looking back at him open mouthed. "You should get a shirt on," he mumbled, staring intently at the table "or you'll get cold."

"I'll be fine."

"Watch you don't walk into whatever you did again, you could do some serious damage to yourself."

That pissed Hidan off. He stood up, turning to Kakuzu, revealed the deep hole in his stomach. "Yeah, that's exactly what I fucking did. Walked into something. Right."

"Hi- Hidan…"

"Well now you've seen me. What do you think, hmm? Disgusted, are you? Freaked out? Ready to run to the local suicide hotline on 24-hour call and get them to 'keep an eye on me?' I'll bet you are."

With an expressionless face, Kakuzu's hands went to his shirt. Undid the buttons.

Hidan was startled. "Kakuzu, what are you-" but he didn't need to continue. As Kakuzu finished unbuttoning his shirt, his unfinished question was answered. Stitches zigzagged across his chest, his stomach, round his neckline. He had two on his face as well, but when questioned Kakuzu had always said it was an accident on a bike when he was younger. So much for that.

Both of them were speechless. In the end Hidan gave up with the questions and simply said "I need a drink." He got two tumblers from the cupboard above the sink and grabbed the bottle of cola from the fridge. He filled the glasses half up and Kakuzu was about to take one when his hand was slapped away. Irritated, he was about to question Hidan's actions when a clear liquid topped up the glass. Kakuzu sniffed. Vodka.

Lifting up his glass, Hidan looked over the rim at Kakuzu with mysterious eyes. "Cheers." he said, and drank the glass dry.

Three hours and five glasses later, Hidan and Kakuzu sat on the sofa, silent. Neither had spoken a word since the first drinks had been drunk, and neither had any reason to break the silence. Kakuzu sat cross-legged, shirt still unbuttoned, with a drink in his left hand and the other arm splayed over the back of the sofa. Hidan sat to his right, knees hugged to his chest and turned slightly in towards Kakuzu. LostProphets now blared out of the speakers, and both were glad for the others similar taste in music.

Hidan let his mind drift. Wander. He kept it unchecked, for once in his life. And it chose to drift upon Kakuzu. Despite his presence, Hidan still felt lonely. Cold. He darted a glance across to Kakuzu, then hid his face in his knees. He daren't let his face betray him his thoughts.

Damnit… it must be the alcohol… surely… I can't want… that

Meanwhile, Kakuzu stole a look at Hidan. He dared to let a smirk spread across his face. Oh yeah. He knew what Hidan was feeling. He knew it very well. His eyes flashed with anticipation and he got up to get himself another drink…

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I'm not sure where my mind is taking this, but I like it. I got into this faster than I thought I would, so I don't know how I'm gonna feel when I reread it next time someone reviews or faves or whatever they feel needs to be done.