Author's note: The hell? I'm on a roll here. Okay…so I saw this pic at deviantart: http // annakymoyama. deviantart. com /art/ Let-me-die-please-62761647 (take away the spaces when you copy and paste) and this fanfic erupted into my mind. I love reading stories about Hidan's past and I thought I'd try writing my own. I was in tears through some of this because I hate causing Hidan emotional pain. I hate it. He loves physical pain, but…yeah. So this is kind of my theory on his background. I was writing this all based on that fanart pic, so I had a very…distinctive image of Hidan-child when writing this. He's so cute! Oh yeah and the end is so…blah. I kinda lost inspiration there. Sorry.
Disclaimer: I do not own Hidan (or Kakuzu). I only own this fanfic. If I did own Hidan, I would have him crawl out of the ground and decapitate Shikamaru. Mwahahaha!!! Ahem, seriously, I'm good XD I drew a pic of that though…for anyone interested… linkers: http // darkfire75. deviantart. com /art/ Victory-is-mine-colored-62642227
Hidan had always known he was different from the other kids in his village. His hair and eyes were oddities and caused him to be hated. He put on a tough act; like it didn't bother him. But at times, he just felt so lonely. His mother was too protective of him as well, making him a target for ridicule.
"Hey pink-eye!" one of the village boys sneered. "Why don't you go run home to mommy?"
His friends laughed. Hidan stared at his feet as he walked; holding the groceries his mother had asked him to get closer to his chest. When he arrived home, he saw his mother waiting for him at the door. "Hidan, honey, I was so worried," she said, kneeling down to his height and brushing his unruly silver hair out of his eyes.
"I'm fine, Mom," he replied stubbornly. Hidan had thought the only strange things about him were his hair and eye color. But he was very wrong. He was hanging around the playground one afternoon, watching the other kids with envious eyes. They looked like they were having a lot of fun. He scuffed his shoe on the ground and thrust his hands into the pockets of his pants.
"Oi!" someone called. He turned around, got hit in the face with a mud ball, and fell. The other kids laughed. Hidan wiped the mud off himself, holding back his tears of anger and bitterness. "Aww, poor pink-eye! I think I made him cry!"
"Do it again, Shiro!"
Hidan scrambled to his feet. Once again, he was pelted with a mud ball. The others laughed even louder. "Get him!"
Eyes widening in fear, Hidan got to his feet again and tried to run for it. But he was grabbed from behind by one of the bigger kids. "Not so fast," he smirked. Hidan wasn't very strong. He couldn't fight against all these kids.
Shiro, the one who had hit him with the mud balls, walked up to him holding a kunai. "Don't worry, pink-eye. It won't hurt too much."
Hidan struggled, kicking and screaming. "No! Let me go! Please!"
Shiro stabbed the kunai into Hidan's left leg. Hidan cried, wanting to die in that moment. Let this stop…please, he begged in his mind. Shiro laughed darkly and stabbed him in his right arm. God! Hidan closed his eyes, trying to stop the onslaught of tears that threatened to spill down his cheeks. He wanted to die in that moment. The pain was unbearable. G-God…please…help me…
The kids were laughing, uncaring for the bleeding boy before them. "We should stop before an adult sees us," someone mumbled.
"Who's gonna care?" Shiro sneered. "Nobody likes him. We're doing the village a favor."
Hidan sobbed, falling to his knees and cradling his injured arm and leg. He then narrowed his eyes and lunged at Shiro, grabbing the kunai out of his hands and backing away from them all. He aimed the weapon at his heart and looked to the sky. Forgive me, mom. He closed his eyes and thrust the kunai into his chest. Several kids screamed. Hidan felt the pain and wished death would take him quickly. He fell to his knees and ripped the kunai out of his chest. He waited a bit longer for the pain to subside. But it never did.
He glanced down. He had stabbed his heart. He should be dead. He shouldn't be breathing. He shouldn't feel pain anymore. He panicked. He grabbed the kunai again and started to repeatedly stab himself. The kids around him were crying and screaming.
"He's a freak!" Shiro cried. "He won't die!"
Hidan only partially heard him. No! No this can't be! Why am I still alive? I hit my heart! I know I did! Why am I not dead?!
He gave a loud cry and plunged the kunai into his skull. There's no way he could survive that. He waited. Nothing happened. He screamed angrily and threw the kunai away. He was drenched in his own blood, but he didn't care. What is wrong with me?! He stood up on shaky legs. The others backed away from him, terrified looks on their faces. He limped home, tears falling down his blood-soaked cheeks. He stumbled into the doorway of his house.
"Mom!" he cried.
His mother came running and gasped. Tears flooded down her face as she embraced him. "Oh my baby boy! You weren't supposed to find out like this!" she sobbed, holding him close.
"F-Find out what?" he asked, wiping his tears away. "Mom, what's wrong with me? Why can't I die?"
She bit her lip. "I'm not at liberty to say, Hidan."
"But I want to know! Tell me!"
"It's because of Jashin-sama."
He blinked. "Jashin…sama?"
His mother smiled wistfully. "I prayed to him everyday when I was pregnant with you, asking for the perfect son. And my wish came true, Hidan. You are perfect." She reached out to touch his hair.
He backed away, confused. "I don't understand."
She stared at him with wide eyes. "Don't you see, honey? You're immortal. You can't die. Jashin-sama made it so!"
She looked frightening. Hidan had never feared his mother before. "Why would you ask for such a horrible thing?!" he snapped. "This pain is horrible! I want to die!"
"You can't!" she laughed, looking mad. "You never will!"
Hidan could only watch as his mother drifted into madness. As he grew older, the rumors of that day spread around the village. Now people avoided him like the plague, which he was perfectly fine with. It was better than being picked on at any rate. He had enlisted into the ninja academy and graduated early. The village saw him as valuable ninja material because he couldn't die. They didn't care about him otherwise. Hidan would have preferred not being a ninja, but his mother had insisted. And he still loved his mother very much.
He had found old scrolls in his house about Jashinism. The religion was one he'd never come across and wondered how his mother had even come to become such a devout follower. He read through the scrolls, determined to try and understand why he was given immortality. "Anything less than total slaughter is considered a sin?" he repeated, reading a line off the scroll. "That's fucking weird." But as he learned more and more about the religion, he started to believe in it. He prayed to Jashin before going to bed and he prayed to Jashin before going on a mission. He learned of a secret ritual that only those blessed with the immortal might of Jashin could perform.
He read it through excitedly, wanting to know how to perform the ritual. He needed to draw the symbol for Jashin on the ground and he would need the blood of whoever he was sacrificing. At that moment, from having one taste of his sacrifice's blood, he would be connected to the other person. He could stab himself and only inflict the pain on the sacrifice. He would never die. So Hidan decided to make a weapon suited for this ritual. He had always liked the look of scythes. Not many ninjas used them because they were a burden to carry, but for his purposes, he knew he could manage. The scythe had not one, but three blades on it. That way he would have more chances of getting the blood from his victim, should he be battling long-range.
Hidan hadn't celebrated a birthday for a long time and didn't know how old he actually was anymore. If he was immortal, then did it really matter? He saw the people that used to torment him as a child walk by and stare at him with their new families. They were growing up and getting older. And so was his mother. She was mentally ill and had been for a long time. One night, while he was by her bed, saying a prayer to Jashin, she grabbed his arm.
"Hidan, I have something I want to give you."
He merely stared at her as she reached into her drawer and pulled a necklace out. It was silver and beaded; a rosary. At the end hung a circle with an upside down triangle: the symbol of Jashin. "Mother…?"
"I've kept it safe for a long time. Hidan, would you wear it for me?"
He nodded, slipping the rosary over his head where it rested against his chest. "Thank you," he whispered.
"I have a request," she continued. He blinked. "Would you sacrifice me to Jashin-sama?"
"You're not serious—" he started.
"I am. Hidan, I am ill. Please just send me to Jashin-sama. That is all I ask of you. When I am gone, you can do whatever you want. You will have no more ties with the village."
Hidan had never thought to use the ritual on his own mother. But she was asking him personally. He couldn't ignore her. He nodded and carefully drew the Jashin symbol on the floor around her bed. She used a kunai to cut her finger and he took the bloodied digit into his mouth. His appearance changed then. His skin resembled that of a panda's. He regarded his mother coolly. He mumbled several prayers to Jashin before taking up his scythe and plunging the blades into his mother's body. She screamed but quieted down. She smiled up at him before her eyes glossed over and her head fell against the bloodied pillow.
Hidan was covered in her blood, but he didn't care anymore. He was leaving. He hated the village and its people. He grabbed the kunai his mother had cut herself with and cut across the headband around his neck. There was now a jagged line across the three lines symbolizing the village, branding him a missing-nin. "Jashin-sama will be pleased," he mumbled, taking his scythe and leaving his house. "He will have many sacrifices tonight." And so he slaughtered the villagers, leaving no trace that the village itself had ever existed. The only knowledge was the headband around his neck.
The silver-haired man was shaken from his thoughts and glared over at his partner. "Dammit Kakuzu, I was thinking!"
Kakuzu raised an eyebrow. "Thinking? You?"
"Shut the fuck up." He then frowned. "Hey, Kakuzu…do you believe in my immortality?"
"I believe you're fucking annoying."
"Just answer the fucking question."
"No, I don't."
Kakuzu narrowed his eyes. "You're just odd. In case you haven't noticed, all of us members of Akatsuki are odd."
Hidan smirked. "Would you believe that my mother was the one that prayed for me to be immortal?"
"Your mother must have been out of her fucking mind."
"She was, seriously. That's why I killed her."
Kakuzu rolled his eyes. "Fucking weirdo."
Hidan stuck his tongue out. "You have no idea."
Author's note: Ugh, the ending is soooo...blah. So yeah...I hope you liked it. If there are mistakes, sorry. I didn't reread this before posting cuz well...I'm lazy today :P