Reposting from the Dreamwidth 3 sentence ficathon, prompt: "any fandom, any characters, death's favourites don't die". Who could I possibly do for that if not Hidan? (TW for talk of death, human sacrifices, etc below the cut, of course.)
Of all the things Kakuzu regularly says to Hidan that offend his sensibilities, insult his beliefs, affront his morals or just plain hurt his feelings, the one that always sticks so much deeper than it should is Kakuzu warning him that something's going to kill him.
Hidan tried arguing about it when they were first teamed up, armed with an ever-growing weight of empirical evidence to suggest that actually, today's danger of the day wasn't any more likely to successfully end him than the previous ones. But Kakuzu's so deep in denial of Jashin's existence and blessings that it was like arguing with an exceptionally surly brick wall, so Hidan's mostly given up, these days. He tries to just pretend he doesn't hear.
Sometimes, though, he can't keep his mouth shut no matter how he tries. "Oh come on, Kakuzu! If they could kill me, you know I'd want them to."
Whereupon Kakuzu looks at him like he's an idiot, of course, because Kakuzu, with his half-assed patchwork semi-immortality that he fights so hard to hang on to, couldn't possibly understand. Kakuzu's afraid of death just like he's afraid of so much else. He'll never grasp why Hidan doesn't share his fear.
Not that Hidan has ever tried very hard to explain. He's not good at the kind of eloquence it would take to pry all his complicated tangled feelings out of the depths of his soul and string them together into something coherent, and besides, he shouldn't have to; doesn't want to. He knows better than to hand Kakuzu any additional tools the other man could hurt him with, and nothing makes a shinobi vulnerable like confessing their feelings.
Because it would be a confession, in its way. He couldn't serve Jashin the way he does if he didn't love his god with every fibre of his soul, because if his motives had ever been less than pure then Jashin would never have found him worthy of the terrible power he's been given. And Hidan loves, oh how he loves, with all his cursed immortal heart - loves his god, loves the dark power that runs through his veins, loves the fights he gets into and the blood he spills and the ecstasy that repays him for the souls he drags to the threshold and casts into the dark of Jashin's realm...
The threshold beyond which sits Jashin-sama, enthroned in the realm of death, surrounded by his court of ghosts and shinigami and monsters and chosen-ones-past. The threshold at which Hidan has to turn back, every time, and return to the mortal world; to Akatsuki's bullshit and Kakuzu's contempt, to long boring walks and lousy missions, and the aching loneliness of being the only living messenger of a god nobody else is willing to even hear about.
It's not that he hates being alive or anything stupid like that. Flesh and blood and breath have enough to recommend them, most of the time; he can lose himself easily in the joy of battle or the pleasures of a good meal and a soft bed, just like any other shinobi. He takes comfort too in knowing that only the living can sacrifice the living, and so he's where Jashin needs him to be and doing what his faith requires. To kill for Jashin-sama is his duty and privilege and pleasure all in one, and it is enough for him, for as long as it's asked of him.
But every time he touches that black threshold he still envies the souls he throws across it, because even the most wretched atheist among them is going to land at his god's feet and look upon his god's face so much sooner than Hidan ever will. His only consolation is that he knows his gift-and-curse isn't forever. One day, one day Jashin-sama will reach out his hand and say Enough, will take back his power and unlock that barred gateway and Hidan can run to his god's open arms and go home. Go somewhere he'll finally be welcomed, finally be thanked for all the work he's done and the suffering he's endured.
Where, at long last, he won't be the only one of his kind any more.
Hidan can have faith - he can, he does. He can trust and wait. But he could do without being constantly fucking reminded that that day isn't coming yet.
"One of these days I'll kill you, Hidan."
"That's not something to say to me, Kakuzu."
