A/N: This is for Fallacy, who is currently suffering from a terrible lack of HidanSaku, as are the rest of humanity who ever go online. I WANT MOAR.

One of these days, it'll happen. You'll see.

IvyAdrena beta'd this. Go love on her.

"There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness."

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She cursed herself for forgetting how truly dangerous they were.

And as she watched them beat each other until they nearly fell from exhaustion, she reminded herself that this fall from grace, this lack of control, was entirely her fault.

Deidara fell to the ground hard and she flinched, but remained motionless. This was out of her hands.

It wasn't always that way, though. There was once a time when both of them, all three of them, got along splendidly, did missions together, even went out to eat together. Ever since the fall of Madara and the reiteration of the Akatsuki into what could be called 'normal' ninja society, things had gone well. Apparently Tsunade was one of the few Kages who would stand to have the leftovers of that organization in their villages of command, but Tsunade had need of their skills.

Hidan was obviously handy with his immortality, and Deidara filled in a long-empty spot in the long-range specialty category of the ANBU. Freelancing, of course, as he detested absolute control.

Naruto and Shikamaru, namely, avoided the two men like the Plague, but Sakura did a wise and mature thing by walking up to them with a smile as she presented them with shiny, new Leaf headbands. Something odd passed through their eyes then as they stared up at her from their kneeling positions on the Godaime's office floor. Sakura attributed it to lack of favorable human contact in their lives, and, not surprisingly, she was correct.

Her face still fell when Tsunade told her in a sickly-sweet voice that it was now her job to show them around Konoha, as there were some very important things to get to…being Hokage and all…ah, yes, there they are over on the other side of the village. Things that did not involve being a tour guide, mind you.

She'd get back at her later. Hide her sake, maybe.

Sakura clenched her fists as she heard Hidan grunt, blood pouring freely from a gash in his stomach. A mortal wound for a mortal man, but Hidan was far from death. Did he feel lightheaded? Well, there was no time to ask now.

Even with ten unknown ANBU, Kakashi, and Genma monitoring them constantly throughout the day, Sakura had still felt naked, unsafe. That smile was fake, and she knew it wholeheartedly, but they didn't. Not Hidan or Deidara, not Kakashi, not even the Hokage. That smile was full of spite and guile, and she had felt accomplished while handing them what she hoped was the key to their deaths.

Or permanent disposal, in Hidan's case.

Now she only felt foolish. Now there was a bounce in their steps as she explained in slightly better than monotonous tones which shops they were passing. For it was in the consensus of psychologists that, relative to mentality-based gender differences, men were less likely to notice the smaller body hints and facial expressions that gave away one's true feelings.

They would never know that she spited them. And it gave her a feeling of power, if only for a moment. They felt accepted and loved from a simple smile (coupled with near nonexistent affable contact), but they would never know that she hated them. She would never forgive Deidara for what he did to Gaara, and Hidan—well, she never knew Asuma personally, but on the rare instances she met with Kurenai to discuss genjutsu, she deeply sympathized with the woman, a fellow female with a lover gone for good.

No reason at all. Complete humiliation. How could they stand there, stroll along next to her as they walked down the road, and not feel ashamed? She jerked her arm away on reflex when Deidara lightly touched it, preparing to ask her a question that she didn't really feel like answering.

No feeling at all. Complete antipathy. Deidara blinked at her motion, startled when she turned to glare at him.

"What?"

He said nothing, just looked at her strangely. Why was he doing that? Why did Hidan look at her the same? Did they still believe she cared?

"You were going to say something. What is it?" Kakashi slowly looked up from his book, and Sakura could feel his chakra tensing up. A mile away on top of the Hokage statues, Naruto snarled and jumped down. Did they feel her hate?

Deidara looked away, something dying in his eyes. Well, it would be back soon enough.

"I forget."

She would be sure of its return. She would make them feel comfortable, and then shoot them down in the way that only a woman could. That feeling that was unnamed but was always there, burning down inside of you, that lust for a connection in a world where everyone despised you…she could manipulate it. They were more vulnerable than they would have anyone believe.

They were still men.

She knew this in more ways that one, and she went through them all, a never-ending stream of memories with nothing blocking it. She didn't want to block it. She let them come, let them drift through her as easily as their blood, mingling on the forest floor with their fury and passion.

Closing her eyes, she didn't want to look; closing her ears, she didn't want to hear. She didn't want to see the inevitable even as she heard a body slamming against the ground for the last time, never to get up again. She didn't want to hear Hidan's triumphant, mocking laugh even as she saw him stagger towards her, like a buck to his waiting doe.

"You're mine!"

One last consolation, even for the most wicked of men. As she threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek, a surge of potent, anesthetic chakra sent him into a coma, something not even immortality could prevent.

They were men, but still shinobi, no matter how corrupt they were. They deserved a shinobi's burial. They earned it, through a lifetime of death and twisted intents.

Twenty minutes later and Sakura still stood at attention before a pile of smoldering ashes and brush, the sickly sweet smell of burning flesh nearly overtaking her senses.

Deidara was a free spirit, and, despite herself, hoped dearly, from the bottom of her benevolent heart, that he could find his peace now, somehow. She knew that Hidan still wasn't truly dead, but he was still there, nevertheless. A strong wind blew out of the south almost on cue, upsetting the makeshift crematory and sending thousands of pieces of what was once existence into the deepness of the abyss. She closed her eyes and stood there as the ashes tossed asunder, feeling a prickle of emotion each time a cluster of the fine powder brushed against her skin.

She had to move on. There was simply no other way to survive.

What would she say to Tsunade when she inquired of the two men's whereabouts? To Kakashi's suspicious questions? To Naruto's pleading face?

The truth and nothing more. They fought, died, and were disposed of in a medical fashion. No feeling, no hate, not anymore. Only a lingering, sinking sensation she hadn't felt since he left, one that took her many years to break the cage that man had unconsciously put her into.

There was time to heal.

The ashes were gone now, only an area of charred earth remained vigil over what had happened, but Sakura liked it that way. It almost…gave character to the situation, oddly enough, and a little bit of bitter humor.

A voice on the wind swirled around her maliciously, most likely the product of a never-used imagination finally snapping its bonds.

"Fuck you, you bitch. I wasn't fucking meant to be this. I will never let you rest in peace! You children's children will always feel my curse!"

Sakura relaxed from her stiff military posture and held her hand over her heart.

"No, Hidan," she murmured with a soft smile. "Fuck you."

She walked from the clearing slowly, towards the Yamanakas' flower shop, planning to buy some herb seed to plant another little garden here for use in the lab at the hospital.

Herbs grew well with carbon-based fertilizer.