Warning - light Kaku/Hidan at the end.

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He only ever sees Kakuzu go to church once, and then only because he's searched everywhere else for him. Hidan pauses to adjust his sandal, one hand flat against the wall to keep his balance. The streets are empty at this hour, a stone's throw past midnight, and the taverns in this tiny backwater village have already evicted their patrons and closed their doors.

He sighs in irritation and stands for a moment, just looking around himself. In the dim light he catches the movement of a cat slinking its way through a fence towards home, and hears the muffled rise and fall of someone's domestic dispute. But no matter how he focuses, the ether is clear of the whisper of Kakuzu's chakra. It is somewhat as he expects however. Eight years of shared experience have granted them a familiarity of association that works both ways. Kakuzu knows how best to shape a battle to suit priestly needs and in the same breath he knows too the twist of footfall that will hide him completely from his partner's perception.

Jashin curse him.

This village has two taverns, three eating establishments, one late-night sake stall (closed) and a single graveyard just on the outskirts of the main boundary. Hidan has searched them all. There was talk in the smaller tavern of a huge, shadowed outsider with strange eyes, and yes, a cloak like yours - street performers are you? - but that was two hours ago and since then, nothing.

There is one place left to search, and Hidan rolls his eyes and spits. Why he hadn't thought of it sooner would be beyond him if he didn't expect his partner to oppose him at every turn and in every conceivable manner. Kakuzu can be a bastard when it comes to religion. Hidan considers; his partner is always a bastard, but he does seem to reserve a certain particularly caustic level of vitriol for Hidan's chosen lifestyle of spiritual enlightenment.

Kicking the ground with his toe to settle his sandal, he sets off across the main street and heads for the chapel. The door is tall and made of thick oak, probably the oldest building in this entire bucolic place. He can feel the pull of centuries in its stones and sense its power rising from the dark wood like cloying candle smoke. Setting a hand against the door he mutters a prayer to his patron and slides inside.

It is a single room, cave-like in its simplicity, with three rows of narrow wooden pews lining it like ribs. The chapel is lit from the front by slanted tables of tiny candles that flank the main idol standing tall at the fore. She is a tall, slender figure of painted wood, for this village has not the money to spare for gold, and her robes shine with varnish and copper paint. She gleams in the candlelight and her benevolent gaze is cast down towards her feet, her palms outspread in benediction. Two pearls have been set in the corners of her eyes to mark the tears she sheds for her mortal children. He follows that tearful gaze down to the man that sits at her feet and his eyes rest there on those broad shoulders.

He'd speak, but he doesn't want to do much of anything in this unholy place. It's bad enough that his partner has forced him to come here. He doesn't want to open his mouth and breath in sacrilege; already he's going to have to make sacrifice of himself to cleanse the taint.

Kakuzu is sitting before the statue of the Virgin, not in prayer, or meditation, but loosely as though he stumbled and fell down backwards, and then simply neglected to get back up. Hidan tilts his head to one side and regards him carefully.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asks eventually.

Kakuzu's head falls to one side so that his ear is turned towards his partner. He lifts something from his lap and from the movement and the slosh of liquid on glass it looks to be a bottle.

"Hnn...okay," Hidan says slowly, re-evaluating the situation suddenly. Kakuzu does not drink often, his tight budgeting will not allow for it, but when he does he is unpredictable and quick to settle for violence. The threat of attack barely concerns Hidan, but they could really do without the trouble it would cause in this tiny village. Hidan likes the inn they're staying at. It has goose down pillows and the hostess said she'd cook bacon for his breakfast just like they do in his own home village. He doesn't want to be kicked out this time.

"So…" he says, taking a couple of careful steps forward and closer. "What brought you here again?"

Kakuzu lets out a long, slow breath, and the bottom of the bottle clinks against the stone floor as he sets it down.

"Thought it might keep you out."

Hidan draws in a breath, "Low blow, partner. Low blow. Do you ever stop trying to use Lord Jashin against me? You know, it's bound for failure. My Lord honours me as I honour him, I'm a true servant and I-"

Kakuzu turns to stare at him, pale eyes gleaming dully in the candlelight and Hidan stops short. He breathes in once, slowly and then out again, frozen by the sudden shift of focus.

"Have you been-" he pauses uncertain, and Kakuzu blinks at him. There is something slow and dangerous moving in that gaze and it ignites Hidan's nerves with the threat of predator.

"Anything- anything I can do for you?" he asks carefully, not daring to move.

Kakuzu's hair is loose, falling around his face in long, dark strands that almost, but not quite conceal his eyes. He holds Hidan's gaze and the slow rhythmic lift of his chest is a soft whisper in the silence.

"Thinking," Kakuzu says, his voice not even touched by the barest of slurs. He seems focussed and sharp, despite the casual folding of his legs before him. Lazy, like a great cat watching from the undergrowth. "Came for some peace."

Hidan nods slowly, wetting his lips and breathes out. "I'll leave you," he says and turns on his heel, deliberately resisting the urge to back away. Jashin will damn him before he runs from this place.

"No."

He is brought up short by the tendril that wraps around his wrist and tightens as it slides up his arm. He turns his head to look over his shoulder and the eyes that stare back at him gleam in the light of the candles.

"Let me go," Hidan says quietly, amiably. "This isn't exactly home for a servant of Jashin you know."

He suspects it may have been the wrong tack to use when the flames catch the gleam of something entirely unsettling in Kakuzu's eyes. The tendril tightens around his forearm, sliding up to curl around his bicep so tight he can feel the pulse of blood in his arm.

"I would have thought you would enjoy the chance to commit sacrilege in this place," Kakuzu says, and there, there in the lowering of his voice is the influence of the alcohol.

Hidan pauses, reconsiders, and the slow smile that creeps across his face would be chilling to see. "That's not something we do where I come from," he says. "You want to worship at the altar of Jashin, you pay the price."

The tendril snaps him off his feet, spinning him sharply around so that his knees crack against the stone floor. He grins through the shock, teeth shining in the gloom and braces his weight against the tendril's grip. They stare at each other in silence, the soft creak of strain as the tendril shifts and tightens the only sound other than the faint sputter of candles. Kakuzu leans forward slowly and Hidan's lips draw back wider in his rictus grin. The huge nin pauses scant inches from Hidan's face and the priest can hear the whisper of his hair and see the flicker of its shifting tendrils at edges of his vision.

"I will pay you," he growls and Hidan feels the press of something cold and hard in the palm of his left hand. Kakuzu's long fingers close his hand over the shape of a coin and holds them there.

Hidan's expression is half grin, half snarl and all macabre delight as he replies.

"I accept your offering," he hisses and Kakuzu drags him sharply forward into a rough and bruising kiss.

Above them, the statue of the Virgin weeps and the candlelight catches her tears and makes diamonds of them.