THEY all knew it had been Itachi who had basically reduced Sasori to nothing but a pile of ashes, but they didn't say anything. No one did. A dead Akatsuki member meant little or nothing in terms of emotions and friendship.

To the most of Akatsuki, that is.

Hidan was still slightly unnerved by the experience. He had no idea that Sasori had done something to Deidara during Itachi's absence, to be frank. Now he was kind of curious of what extent Sasori had gone to to deserve instant death as his reprimand.

Not that it was much of a reprimand. It had no warning, and it wasn't a warning itself.

And thus, Hidan's depressed state continued on. And by now, it had caught the attention of not one—Kakuzu—but all of the Akatsuki.

Deidara was the most curious. He had, after all, shared a kiss with the Jashinist. It had been one that he didn't want, but it was still a kiss. It had also been the gentlest one that Deidara had ever received, and he doubted that there was going to be one that could surpass it. It was just that gentle.

"Hey, Hidan," Kisame barked at dinner. "Say something or we're all going to explode out of aggravation at you not saying anything,"

"Don't encourage him…," Deidara muttered under his breath. Itachi glanced at the blonde. After Sasori's untimely but well deserved meeting with death, Deidara seemed more.., well, sunny. Because of this, all of Itachi's previous guilt had ebbed away. Not that he had felt much.

Hidan lifted his head from the table at Deidara's voice.

"Fine," he growled after a while. "Fuck you all,"

He put his head back down on the table and groaned into the wood.

Kisame shrugged. "Hey, I'm satisfied,"

Kakuzu just nodded.

***

"He only kissed me—once,"

Deidara scraped the remnants of Kisame's dinner into the bin with a fork. Kisame, like Hidan, ate voraciously. Tonight had been no exception. There were more than twenty peeled prawn skins on the plate, four crab pincers sucked dry and numerous other bits and pieces that had been through Kisame's mouth. Deidara flinched a bit when he accidentally touched a chicken bone that was sliding off the china. It was childish, he knew, but he couldn't help it.

"And that was it?" Itachi asked, watching Deidara's face for a possible guarded expression. "That's all he did? This is Hidan, you know,"

"That's honestly all he did," Deidara stacked Kisame's now empty plate onto the sink. "Surprising, no?"

Itachi nodded. "Yes in terms of Hidan being Hidan. But no in regards to how he's been acting lately,"

"What is he going through, anyway? Does anybody know?"

Itachi shrugged and turned on the tap and waited until the water was hot. He plugged the sink so that it could begin to fill up.

"I thought maybe it was Sasori's death," Deidara continued. "But Kakuzu said that Hidan was already like this the day before you killed him,"

Itachi just nodded.

***

"Fuck!'

Hidan smashed his fist into the wall. A film of dust fell from the rock as a result of the impact.

Why can't I stop thinking about him? He thought angrily, rubbing his knuckles as they turned into an angry shade of red. I can't do anything…especially not now…now that he's…

He glanced instinctively at the pole propped against the wall. He reached over for it and ran his finger over the sharp point. Maybe it was time for a distraction.

Deidara had been in his room when he heard Hidan swear and punch the wall.

He was snapped out of the reverie that often took over him when he was designing new bombs. He sighed and got up, wiping his hands briefly on the wet cloth before gliding out of his room and into the doorframe of the Jashinist's, who was presently leaning over himself, hands on his knees. There was a sharpened pole pierced straight through him: from what Deidara could see, it went straight through his heart.

"Hidan," Deidara said. He saw the Jashinist freeze, as if his voice inflicted as much pain as his scythe would.

Hidan turned around and Deidara had to grimace. It was hard not to, even for the most hardened of the Akatsuki. But it was also one of those things that you can't help but look at: it was disgusting to the point of morbidly interesting.

"Oh," Hidan said, stammering slightly. "It's you," he touched a hand to his forehand.

Man Deidara thought. Even his fingers are bloody.

The two men stood in silence, each not knowing what to say next. Hidan felt nervous. Deidara felt unnerved.

"Get that out of there," Deidara said, walking up the Jashinist and pulling the pole outwards. It made a sickeningly wet sound as it slid out of Hidan's flesh and came out clean. Deidara dropped it immediately. "It's grossing me out,"

"Then get out of here," Hidan said, his voice borderline cold. "No one told you to look,"

Hidan's stomach felt uneasy right after the words left his lips. He instantly regretted them, but knew it was the only way to keep Deidara—that is, Itachi—away from him.

Deidara cocked his head and crossed his arms defensively. "Fine," he snapped. "I just came in to see how you were doing, you know. But if I'm obviously not welcome…,"

Deidara was surprised at how upset he felt.

Hidan didn't say anything. He was beginning to remind Deidara of Sasori, which was a bad thing.

"I'll get out," Deidara said finally. He stalked out, looking supremely pissed off at the short, sharp and ultimately pointless exchange of words.

Hidan groaned loudly and scratched the back of his head in angst. He didn't need even more on his fucking conscience. If he was acting normally, he would've barked a sheepish apology down the hallway. But he wasn't normal. He hadn't been ever since he'd kissed Deidara. So he didn't say anything. He picked up the pole, grabbed it where Deidara had touched it and threw it across the room.