A/N. More votes on the poll, please: I can't call it just yet.

In this fan-fic I describe Kakuzu as having 'silver' eyes. I know that in coloured canon they are green, but this has turned out to be my preference for this story.

No matter how carefully Kakuzu walked, the rain-pummelled village streets still found a way to slip in between his toes, the mud turning into irritating dirt as it dried. The daimyo had better be accommodating when he and Hidan arrived… although if he was not, there was little the missing Waterfalls-nin could do in retaliation if he wanted to see payment.

“Hi, Kakuzu.” The stitched-man’s partner appeared by his side, looking and smelling cleaner than he had been two hours before.

“I see you found some hapless fool to clean your clothes for you,” he growled, knowing that in comparison he now looked as if he did not care about his appearance. “How you manage to live without money is beyond me.” Kakuzu loved the financial system – he learned all its rules and loop-holes, gathering all scraps of knowledge to discover how to control it to his advantage. Whether it was society or nature, there were ‘systems’ in place to maintain some form of order. However, when there was a system, there were always ‘revolutionaries’ who broke the rules and strived to be beyond it. Hidan, in Kakuzu’s opinion, was one of these people… but he had a different label for him and this strange ability that Kakuzu wanted to add to his arsenal: ‘insufferably irritating’.

“Are we going to Lord Fujimi’s manor today, or not?” The silver-haired one asked dryly.

“We are going there right now.”

“Kakuzu.” Hidan pointed at his cloak.

“What?”

“You’ve got some rice down your front.” He brushed it away, annoyed that he had not noticed it sooner. “You can’t go presenting yourself when you look a mess, now, can you?”

“The moment I find an isolated spot, I’m going to kill you.”

“I can’t believe you’re still saying that to me! Don’t you remember how successful your last attempts were?” Although Kakuzu had not managed to kill his latest partner so far, it did not mean that he could not be killed – the silver-eyed man just needed to be more creative and more determined in his endeavours. “Oh, by the way, this mission we’re on has been taken by a few other mercenary groups in the area as well as some ninja from the Grass Country. It sounds like they weren’t successful if we’re here to take their place.”

“Don’t jump to conclusions; we’ll find out if it is the same mission or not once we speak with our employer.”

“Hey, Kakuzu, I heard that this daimyo is trying to re-establish his connections with Iwagakure – isn’t that bad for us if he does so? I mean, they’d come looking for us, wouldn’t they?” Kakuzu gave his partner a noncommittal grunt for a reply… although the thought had crossed his mind. He would have questions for Zetsu the next time he made an appearance. They approached the same guardsmen as before and were acknowledged with a nod.

“Lord Fujimi is in residence now: you may proceed.” The iron gate that had covered their route was flung aside, admitting them to the daimyo’s presence.

“Hey! Now we’re getting somewhere, Kakuzu!”

Back when he had not been an outlaw, the Waterfall-nin had taken a mission involving a man that protected himself beyond what any wealthy merchant would have deemed as ‘necessary’. Yet, this old charge from decades ago haunted his current proceedings. Already, there was something about Lord Fujimi Akiyama that seemed desperate… but was it just paranoia? Kakuzu had learnt that some methods, no matter how extreme, were sometimes warranted.

“Pssh! What a gaudy excuse for a home! Honestly, what’s the point of it all? It doesn’t look impressive in the least…” Kakuzu turned from his thoughts to reality, taking note that Hidan, on this point, was correct: golden statues mingled with green roof tiles and red pillars carved and painted with tumultuous clouds and calligraphy. The stones beneath their feet formed a green path that matched the colour of the roof. Bells hung from eaves, clattering without tune in the changeable winds. The mansion was impressively large, but the litter of ornamentations that had obviously been added over different generations would impress few but the peasants the daimyo ruled over. And considering all the security we had to get through to get here, I’m surprised there’s no one watching over the place itself. He could not even sense any hidden presences. Could it be that this man’s wealth stretched only far enough to give the illusion of strength? There was nothing else to do but to enter the gaping double-doors.

Kakuzu could feel Hidan’s nose contort with disgust: had the outside been garish, the interior was a vulgar display of opulence: pearlescent pastel mosaics covered the floor, depicting an Earth Country legend of a battle between oni, humans and animals. Elaborate vases containing exotic plants stood to the side of each red pillar that supported the upper balcony and roof. Light somehow managed to pierce through the unnecessary number of screens surrounding them, giving the inner illumination a prevalently yellow tone. Flowing water could be heard in a distant courtyard. The stitched-man stood sideways and looked over at his Jashinist partner.

“Heh – now this was more of the welcome I was expecting.” Hidan grinned back.

“Yeah.” He lazily tilted his head to one side, gaining a moment of smug satisfaction as a kunai whizzed past his ear, through the screens and into the gardens beyond. “I’ve been waiting for this!” He grabbed at the ropes connecting to his scythe, swinging the weapon from his back and up into one of the pillars. The presence dodged, landing on the floor in time to receive one of Kakuzu’s long-range punches. The attacker, wrapped completely in bandages and wearing only a pair of trousers, clambered onto one of the pillars and ran up its length. “Come back here, you bastard!” The silver-haired Akatsuki member pulled on his ropes, causing his weapon to break through the beam and come hurtling downwards. Their adversary formed a hand seal and passed through the weapon as if he was made of water. He flipped in mid-air, stretching out his dagger-clutching arms and falling closer to Hidan. The missing-nin twisted, avoiding the kicks and the blades that targeted his neck, all the while smirking at his enemy and increasing his irritation.

Kakuzu watched from the distance, knowing that he was unneeded by Hidan. Another projectile flew his way. He caught the kunai with his threads, a mere foot away from his head.

“You’ll have to do better than that if you want to kill me,” he growled, pummelling his fists into the nearest pillar. The foundations of the building trembled and groaned, shaking a second attacker from his hiding place and forcing him onto the mosaic floor.

“Hey, Kakuzu! I bet I can kill my opponent before you can kill yours, old man!”

“That’s not something someone as slow as you should be saying, Hidan.” Kakuzu ran at the second foe, bowing down as Hidan’s scythe swished over his head. His threads shot out and wrapped around a foot, crawling up the leg, but were quickly cut away. Blood splattered against Kakuzu’s back: he did not need to look to know it was not Hidan’s.

“Hey, heathens! Watch and despair at the might of Lord Jashin!” The wicked-god’s symbol began to form upon the floor whilst Kakuzu’s own enemy proved to be of little hindrance: try as he might to escape, Kakuzu’s numerous threads overwhelmed his strength and senses within the pulse of a heartbeat. His appendages squeezed, tightening with every abrupt gasp his victim made.

Hidan’s face had darkened to his skeletal form, removing his pike from the garment’s inside sleeve. The bandaged individual could see that an attack was coming and wisely moved out of range.

“Ha! Distance won’t save you!” The voodoo doll stabbed through his right wrist, gritting teeth with pain and satisfaction as he rammed the object further and further through the bone: – the Jashinist took obvious pleasure from the elicited screams. “Tch! You’re so noisy!” He placed the pointed steel against his neck. “How about I quieten you down?” Before the unfortunate could object, Hidan pierced his skin.

“That’s enough!” For one of the attackers, the intervention came too late. Hidan slipped the pike from his neck, his target falling to the ground dead. Kakuzu released his grip but refused to let go entirely until he understood the situation. This new intruder was not a warrior, but a servant. His robes were grey and embellished with simple peonies and symbols of luck in blue stitching and the lines of his face spoke of the many generations he had served in this house. “You two seem capable of handling yourselves beyond the level of the average treasure-hunter who comes here. I am Banshijou, and my lord, Fujimi, awaits you. If you would please, follow me.” He moved away and pulled opened the sliding doors to another hallway. Kakuzu released his prisoner: there was no longer a need for a living hostage or any form of interrogation. The survivor crumpled to the floor, writhing and twitching – gasping for air. Perhaps Kakuzu had done some permanent damage to him… but he was decidedly better off than his partner. His monochrome eyes shifted over to Hidan’s ceremony: even though his prey was dead, his black and white markings remained.

“Hidan! We don’t have time for one of your rituals!”

“My god comes first! You go find out about Daimyo Fujimi and all that money you so love: I’m staying here!”

“Don’t kill the other one,” Kakuzu warned, moving off to follow Banshijou. Those violet eyes regarded him, mocking his existence.

“I’ll do whatever my Jashin-sama commands.”

--End of Chapter 5--