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Faint rays of afternoon sunlight danced upon the shadowed ground beneath his feet, swaying in time to the quiet echoes of a summer breeze. The gentle, flickering glows were watched carefully by the Shinobi standing within the forest below: a man who was just waiting for his opponent to mess up her trap and accidentally give away her position.

A clever weight shift and a simple flick of the wrist was all it took to catch the girl off-guard; the second swing from the bar of his scythe managed to hit her spot-on, sending his target crashing back-first into a nearby tree.

The opportunity she let slip during battle had been an honest mistake, but it was nothing Hidan wouldn’t take his rightful advantage of.

She hunched over herself a few yards away, holding a hand against the ground for stability as she recovered from the folly.

The pain across the girl’s upper abdomen made her strain as she looked over at the man, and grinned. “First strike wins, Sensei.”

“Like hell it does. Stand the fuck up.”

She looked surprised.

“I’m sick of letting you waste my fucking time,” Hidan scowled. “I knew you were weak, but this is just fucking ridiculous.”

Sighing, the young woman brushed the back of her hand across her face, wiping a spot of blood away from the corner of her mouth.

“I apologize for my behavior, Hidan-sama,” she responded firmly. “I guess I’ve been...kinda distracted lately.”

“Seriously, I don’t remember saying I gave a shit. I said get up.”

She gave herself another moment to regain her equilibrium before obeying the order and rising shakily back to her feet.

Even though sparring matches were common during these rare outings together, they never failed to establish which of the two Shinobi remained the superior fighter. A life’s worth of Academy training had done nothing special to prepare the kunoichi for the superior combative skills of a runaway; none of her learned tactics made the slightest difference in changing the battle’s outcome, a fact Hidan loved to exploit at every given opportunity.

Still, save for a few empty threats and a couple of harmless scuffs during battle, Hidan never really tried to hurt the girl.

No, he made her do that part all on her own.

Yuni brushed the fresh marks of dirt from her gloved hands, shaking brown tint from black cloth. “Sensei, I need to ask you something.”

“Oh, yeah?” he asked, readily grasping the base of the weapon tied around his back. “What’s that?”

“Are we friends?”

“Are you shitting me?”

She looked away and breathed her laughter.

The girl was his latest inductee into Jashinism, and quite unfortunately, the only willing inductee he could find thus far. She held her loyalty to her village, however, with the same weight as she carried her loyalty to their god, a fact Hidan couldn’t bring himself to speak against when he considered the organization with which he held his own high regards.

Jashin wouldn’t have liked it if one of his most dedicated servants turned down a heathen’s request to be redeemed, after all.

She would vie for an away mission every so often to meet with him in secret, to train and discuss new ways of cleansing the world of the blasphemous. She kept true to her word and obeyed his every command without objection, and maintained a steady count of sacrifices by taking on assassination missions whenever she could.

But, most importantly, she always made sure to stay the hell out of her teacher’s business.

She knew nothing about him, his partner, or his affiliations, and he took advantage of that boundary by asking her seemingly-innocent details about her village and reporting them back to his organization. His teammate Kakuzu, of course, knew of the informant’s existence. Hidan claimed he had to start taking a couple of days off every other month or so to gather information on his own; although it wasn’t regarded as ‘fiscally ideal’ at first, Hidan managed to fully convince Kakuzu into letting him go by using an ancient and powerful mind-controlling technique known as ‘bitching one’s mouth off’.

Although the little acolyte from Konoha acted as a more-than-faithful apprentice for the past several months, there were the unexpected instances when her stupidity could play her off as someone a quarter of her age.

This instance, for example.

“Remind me why in the fuck I would want to be friends with someone like you. Just because you exploited my ass into agreeing to baptize you, that doesn’t mean I have to like you. As a matter of fact, I hate you. With a burning fucking passion.” He shrugged. “I’m just waiting for you to screw something up so there’s an excuse to kill you and get it the fuck over with.”

“Of course, Hidan-sama,” she said, scratching her cheek. “I was just making sure, is all.”

“Yeah, well, now you know. The hell’s got you so interested all of a sudden, anyway?”

“Nothing! I...if there was anything I could do to change your mind, you know I’d--”

He flipped her off. “Suck my dick, kid.”

“Would that help?”

The way she asked was far too earnest for his liking.

Before she had a chance to react, Hidan swiftly withdrew his scythe and charged towards her, shoving the back of the handle forward and pressing the metallic bar hard against her throat. He held his student high up against the side of the tree, using nothing more than a single hand to wield the enormous weapon now pinning her to the bark.

She clenched onto either side of the intruding pole and focused all of her remaining strength, relieving the pressure on her neck just enough to allow herself to speak.

“I mean, you tell me to do that a lot,” she choked out, forcing a smile. “Just wondering if it’s an insult or a request.”

He scoffed. “You’re just a good-for-nothing fucking pervert, aren’t you?”

But their fight wasn’t over.

The individual he had held to the tree disappeared in a large billow of smoke, replaced with a large tree branch. Hidan wheeled around, predicting the assault rushing in from behind him and clashing the suddenly encroaching blade against his own. Before he was given the opportunity to serve a punishing counter-attack, a shrill pain shot through his body as he felt something sharp wrench itself into the base of his spine. The clone he was facing disappeared in another cloud, and it became obvious that the wooden ‘replacement’ had been the kunoichi all along.

Usually, Yuni was an extremely polite, extremely quiet, extremely obedient girl who was respectful to those above her station. She always tried her hardest to show her skills were improving under his instruction, but fighting was the only time she could ever get his attention.

Sparring was the only instance she ever dared to lay a finger on him.

To this day, the young woman strived to do everything in her power to show Hidan that her devotion had never faltered and will never change. No matter what he said or how he treated her, she’d always value his guidance above and beyond anyone else’s. Because, as his apprentice, she was there to serve him.

Nothing more.

Hidan sneered. “I’d thought that was one unnaturally ugly fucking tree branch.”

Standing on her toes to take on his height, she wrapped an arm around his chest, pulling him backwards onto the knife so that his ear and her mouth were made level. “Do you really think I’m ugly?”

“You slimy little prick...” he barked, cringing. “I swear to God, I’m making the next thirty seconds as painful for you as humanly fucking possible.”

She twisted the kunai in an inch or two further before violently ripping it out of his body.

Her giggle trembled. “Uh-oh.”

‘Darn it, why haven’t these healed yet?’

The black-haired young woman shifted uncomfortably in the bar stool, attempting to ease the stinging pains across her back. The wounds caused from her last self-flagellation had been inflicted during a penance ritual she performed some time ago. She wasn’t a medic-nin, nor could she heal at the alarmingly fast rate her teacher did, but two days should have been more than enough to recover from something as minor as a sound lashing.

Regardless, Yuni sighed, glancing up at the clock on the wall just in time to mark the second hour she’d been sitting here in wait. It had taken half a day to reach the next town, and she was sure she wasn’t the only one praying to Jashin that tonight was going to prove worth the walk.

To pass the time, the kunoichi even denied her better judgment and welcomed a conversation with a masked individual at the far end of her table. A heavy black overcoat was draped over the man’s massive shoulders, the mark across his hitai-ate’s plate branding him a runaway Falls-nin. Yuni became less and less apprehensive towards the stranger as their dialogue continued, realizing that if someone with his immense Chakra levels had wanted to kill her, he would’ve made his intentions known a long time ago.

They had nothing more than a well-mannered discussion that ended with an abrupt goodbye, followed by him dropping a few coins onto the table to pay for his untouched drink before he made his departure.

‘Sir’, she called him.

She never asked him his name.

The kunoichi folded her arms upon the wooden countertop and picked up her glass of water, swirling around its contents before raising it to her mouth.

She sighed into the cup as she heard the customer behind her giggle shyly.

By now, that woman was probably bringing a softly closed hand to her lips; she’d turn away and blush discreetly while the man in front of her fondled at the length of her hair, breathing lines of harmless, beguiling temptation into her ear. His hand would then move, slowly but surely, to brush across the surface of her wrist, the one she rested so unintentionally, so welcomingly upon the tabletop. Her red-stained lips would part unwittingly at the contact, eliciting nothing more than an irresistibly charming smirk from her handsome courtier.

As always, Yuni kept her back turned and stayed the hell out of her teacher’s business.

The apprentice would label generally anyone ‘suitable’ as immolation to Jashin, with rival Shinobi and mission objectives being her most common targets of practice. But her, her teacher wasn’t as blatantly arbitrary as she was. Hidan would give a quick scan of the room and become transfixed on a single individual, and whomever he decided on would die that very night.

His apprentice could sense the bloodlust building under his surface, ready and willing to escape whatever shithole they were stuck in and claim the crimson reward hiding beneath the unsuspecting victim’s skin.

Hidan always managed to sweet-talk his way into getting his sacrifices.

“It’s almost as if God put me on this earth...for the sole purpose of finding you.”

It was a closing line that had been rehearsed in front of countless other women, countless times before.

Yuni glanced over her shoulder as she heard the chairs behind her shuffle and scrape against the hardwood floors of the tavern. Rising from the table, Hidan took the stranger’s hand into his own and charged swiftly towards the exit, his newfound prey skipping off and tittering behind him. The lady was probably just excited towards the prospect of having someone take her out of public’s eye and retreat to a hidden place--like his hotel room--to ‘talk’.
But he was eager for a completely unrelated reason.

“Looks like someone’s getting lucky tonight, eh?” the bartender leered, noticing the Leaf-nin as she watched the two adults leave the area.

Yuni turned back and took another wordless sip of her drink.

That wasn’t luck.

That was skill.

Yuni hadn’t encountered the concept of celibacy prior to her introduction to the Jashinist religion; she soon learned it was defined by the presence of a strict promise made to God, and that in most cases, any follower who broke that vow would burn in the depths of hell for all eternity (the heathen).

Before she set out to relocate the priest who would baptize her, she understood that agreeing to the terms set forth by the scripture automatically erased all possibilities of a certain future—particularly, one involving love, marriage, family, and the mothering of ongoing generations.

She did not view celibacy as a future robbed from her, but rather, as rare opportunities and a vast array of loopholes bestowed, waiting to be exploited.

You just needed to find the right lines of scripture to read between.


Hidan returned to the inn room much later on into the night, enveloped by wistful unease as he dropped his scythe and slammed the door behind him.

He wiped the sweat from the back of his neck with anxious fingers, his sighs rough and impatient. He always felt so restless and frustrated whenever he returned mid-ceremony; these loud, bloody, painful rituals had the tendency to leave the man so incredibly frustrated at times, he rarely knew what to do with himself by the time he got least, the things which normally came to mind couldn’t be done with Kakuzu listening in three feet away.

For the next few days, however, it would be his student waiting up for him, rather than his usual teammate.

As if reading his mind, he heard her clear her throat.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been pacing around, trying to ignore the tightness in his pants. He doesn’t know how long she’s been sitting on the futon, watching him curse at himself, with her loose, waist-length hair framing her uncovered shoulders. Her cloak was folded neatly in a corner. Her hands were folded neatly atop her lap. She only waited for him like this, patient and unmoving, when she wanted something.

She did not make eye contact when she spoke.

“Tell me what to do,” she said.

Shut up.

Leave me alone.

Go fuck yourself.

His knee-jerk reactions stayed locked behind his silence, and all at once he realized that she, as a fellow Jashinist, could read his current state as plain as the nose on his face—that over the course of the past several months, she’d known exactly what he’d been going through, but hadn’t gathered the courage to say anything until now.

“Get on your knees.”

If she wanted to be used so badly, so be it.

She did as she was told; her movements were uncertain and awkward, burdened with the embarrassment of her own inexperience.

Scowling, he ran his fingers through the front of the girl’s bangs; he tilted her head back far enough to make her lowered eyes meet his, and levelled her gaze with the false conceit of a man who’s done this before.

“Is this what you want, you fucking pervert?” he growled under his breath.

Nervous fingers tugged at the loose ties holding up his waistband.

She does not break eye contact when she speaks.

“Tell me what to do,” she repeated.

So he does.

Hidan had used the Fifth Rite yesterday evening, yet another elaborate ritual in dealing with the proper preparation and disposal of a sacrifice. It was unquestionably the most complicated and detailed solo ceremony listed within the Volumes, as the ritual itself was divided into several parts, taking three days and nights of progress before the light of a successful conclusion.

Of course, Hidan never did anything even vaguely lascivious with any of these random women; performing anything of the sort during a ritual would be disrespectful to Jashin. He simply enjoyed pain. He enjoyed seeing others in pain. Because of this, whenever circumstances allowed, Hidan liked elongating his methods to get the most out of the process

Whenever time was on his side, he’d take it.

Despite the multiple warnings he gave, his apprentice’s curiosity lured her to visit the corridor across the hall early the following afternoon.

Making sure she was alone, she snuck her way towards the adjacent room until she came face-to-face with a Chakra-sealed door. Yuni carefully flattened a palm against the surface, emitting just enough of her own power to counter the force holding the door shut.

At the end of the room, she spotted her.

It was another young woman, a little older than herself, kneeling against the floor by the far wall, hands and ankles chained behind her to the radiator affixed at the back of the windowless room.

The woman’s head shot up, eyes widening fearfully at the sound of the opening door. The white cloth gag tied around her mouth was stained with the gentle pink mixture of tears and blood. Strands of her long, wavy azure hair were unkempt and mislain, contrary to the well-groomed braid which formerly kept her locks in place. Her once-lively blue eyes were almost unrecognizable behind the dried lines of distressed tears running down either cheek; her face, still bloodstained from the ceremonial incisions decorating the skin under her eyes.

‘Made with a kunai tip, no doubt.’

Hidan was always at his most remarkable whenever he held a blade in his hands.

A thankful expression spread across the other woman’s face. She smiled and laughed beneath her mask whilst she struggled against her binds, encouraging the Shinobi standing before her to step forth and set her free.

Yuni’s eyes glazed over as she observed the intricate preparations Hidan had made for the body.

These people he chose, they were always these tall, impressive, gorgeous women with striking features and perfect hair, much more attractive than she would ever prove to be. She, on the other hand, had nothing of value to offer him. No matter how many people she killed or how many missions she completed, no matter how many rituals she performed or the impressive social statuses of those she murdered, she’d always be seen as weak in his eyes.

Maybe that’s why he hadn’t killed her yet.

Perhaps he didn’t think her worthy enough for sacrifice.

Upon realizing that her potential savior hadn’t yet rushed to save her, the sounds of the victim’s half-hearted struggles faded into the silence, leaving nothing but an exchanged stare and a still silhouette standing at the doorway.

“You should feel honored,” the kunoichi whispered, sounding resentful as she backed away and placed a hand on the corner of the door. “Hidan-sama doesn’t perform this ritual on just anyone.”

The woman’s eyes widened once again as light rushed from the room and the sliding door finally clicked shut.

A hand was entangled within her hair; the other, twisted within the cotton sheets sprawled out across the bed.

“Take it in again,” he ordered quietly.

She complied, pushing herself until the tip of his length bumped roughly against the back of her throat.

Hidan moved his fingers and pushed Yuni’s head down, guiding himself even deeper into the tight confine presenting itself so damned willingly beneath him.


Kneeling before his reclined body, she squeezed her eyes shut and drew him into her mouth even tighter than before, groaning in defeat when his hips shifted and his grip on her hair tensed; the young woman had not yet grown accustomed to the bitterness which resulted in his release.

The girl withdrew herself from between his legs the second he finished, skin flushed save for the soft shade of red tainting her face.

“I made a mess...” She glanced at the sticky white substance across the palm of her hand. “I’m starting to think I’ll never get the hang of this, Hidan-sama.”

“Of course you will, kid.”

Watching her blink in response, Hidan sat up and held his apprentice’s face in his hand, running his thumb lightly across her forehead to brush the bangs away from her sweat-slicked skin.

“Because we’re going do this over again until you get it right.”

“Of course, Sensei,” she smiled weakly. “Until you’re satisfied.”

Yuni sat quietly by the open window the final night, watching as her mentor knelt at the foot of one of the room’s beds, his fingers gliding around the beads of his rosary whilst he murmured a hasty, complicated prayer under his breath in an archaic language she could barely understand.

The place where the nameless woman was kept might have been laced with a soundproof barrier, but Yuni didn’t have to imagine what she would have sounded like, as she was merely the latest of many.

She knew he loved making them scream right before they died.

Completing his orison, the man rose to his feet and slid the rosary back over his neck.

“Why were you watching me?” he demanded.

“No reason, Hidan-sama.”

“Then fuck off.”

“Right, sorry...”

Back facing towards her, Hidan slid down the far end of the opposite futon, seating himself on the floor and away from the girl’s prying view.

More often than not, he would stumble wearily into the room and collapse backwards onto the first available mattress. The blood from his fresh impalement wound would seep into the pastel sheets beneath him as he brought the pendant of his rosary to his lips and began praying himself to sleep, muttering, whispering, thanking Jashin for hours on end until his words melded into one another and drifted into silence. She always fell asleep listening to his prayers...yet somehow, he didn’t look as if he was going to sleep tonight.

If he couldn’t, neither could she.

The tension built from his latest kill was greater than she thought.

She’d have to come up with something extraordinary.


Yuni withdrew a single kunai from the holster tied behind her back. She began twirling the small dagger around her fingers, watching the blade glitter innocently in the moonlight.

The most important rule of any Shinobi, in battle and in life, was to never let your opponent decipher your next move; in order to turn things to your advantage, you had to keep your adversary guessing by doing what they least expected, and by maintaining the upper hand of secrecy for as long as possible.

I know you’re counting on me to get it right this time,’ she thought, keeping her back turned towards him as she pressed the kunai against her finger. ‘You’ll be proud once you see how much I’ve learned of you.

She shut an eye, recoiling in silence when the blade pierced the surface of her skin.

Penance was much easier to pay when you knew what it was you were apologizing for.


The metallic clang of the dropped weapon faded from Hidan’s awareness as quickly as it came. Even though his unnaturally fast healing process had already reduced his injury to a surface wound, the results of tonight’s impalement still hurt like hell; he was barely able to move as it was.

Completing the final stage of this ceremony had been an excruciatingly meticulous procedure, one which he couldn’t help but obsess over for the next few hours, reveling in the despondent afterglow. Mastering its complexity had brought him to a spiritual distress, an inner anxiety of desperation that wouldn’t disappear until the longing from another failed suicide decided to fade away on its own. The Volumes said nothing could be done until that instant came, for it was the punishment he received from God for not appreciating the gift of his immortality.

According to Jashin, he’d have to wait it out.

The sound of footsteps entered his hearing. His peripheral vision revealed his student walking across the room to approach his sitting figure.

Hidan continued staring ahead, arms resting by his sides, dry trails of crimson lining down the corners of his mouth.

To his surprise, Yuni knelt down and straddled his lap, leaning forward and resting her bare palms to the ground on either side of him. The scent of her graced his senses; she smelled like blood, she smelled like him, and it made him feel sick.

“Kid?” he prompted dryly. “What the hell are you--”

The words of objection died in his throat when she edged in closer and brushed the tip of her tongue across the overflow of blood streaming down the side of his jaw. He inhaled at first, savoring the unexpected gesture as he heard his fingernails drag unwittingly against the wooden floor below.

“I’m not letting my training lag into next month, Sensei,” she said.

It was against protocol.

“Just give me another chance,” she said.

This was the most inopportune time ever.

“Let me take care of this.”

Noticing his reluctance, she curved her back and pushed up against him, making him raise his hips and grind himself against her inner thigh despite his will. Hidan immediately folded his legs and leaned forward to try and sit up, accidentally making the girl tilt against his injured stomach in the process.

“Fucking hell...” he hissed in pain, sitting back with defeat. “You’re not going to leave me alone, are you?”

Yuni retracted herself.

Hidan’s unwanted expectations withered in disappointment; he felt something stir inside of him, something unsettling and crestfallen that didn’t seem to go away even after he got the reply he wanted to hear.

“Not unless you really want me to.”

He shot a knowing glare at his disciple as she blamelessly searched his expression for an answer.

“...have I told you lately how much I fucking hate you?”

She smiled. “Always nice to hear.”

Hidan sighed in defeat, looking away from her before his conscience had the chance to express any further objection. A slow smile tugged at her lip; his brow furrowed at the feel of the girl’s fingers trailing across the back of his neck, dragging hard against his skin with a different kind of longing.

The kunoichi grasped onto the neck bands of his robes and slipped the sides of his open coat down over his shoulders, exposing the tight, naked upper body lying beneath the cumbersome folds of cloth. Hidan’s cover slid down his back and draped into a pile around his leaning elbows, his heavy sleeves still motionless on resting forearms.

The girl fondled with the beads of his rosary, pulling him closer and tracing a path downwards. He could feel his pulse spike as her slender hands left the necklace and began exploring his defined torso, carefully tracing every rigid angle of his tense body. She felt his strong chest rise and fall with each one of his stabling breaths, the hypnotic cadence of his increasing heart rate guiding her hands down the freshly-bandaged marks of impalement scattered across his front, her fingers gliding over his wounded skin without the slightest hint of aversion, with nothing but the utmost sympathy.

“Don’t...” he muttered.

Not giving much observance to the plea, she continued stroking down his restless form. Laughing, he turned and breathed softly into her hair, savoring the warmth of her skin as she nuzzled her way underneath his hitai-ate’s cloth.

The wound within his chest stung him again, more painfully than before, staining the bandages he wrapped around himself to help stop the bleeding in the first place.

“Kid, seriously...” Hidan said, shifting away from her hand. “Not there.”

Pulling away from him, Yuni touched her forehead against his, watching with keening wonder as the stark-white cloth blossomed red beneath her touch.

“The ceremony...” She smeared a light press across her torn palm as his blood mixed with hers. “Did it hurt?”

“Like hell,” he grimaced. “What the fuck else is new?”

Flashing a smile, she leaned up and rested a kiss by his ear. “Good for you, Sensei.”

She gave a hard shove against his stomach, evoking his particularly stifled noise of gratification; Hidan doubled over himself and choked hard on his breath, trying his best not to reveal that the heated caress of blood pooling against his stomach combined with the biting pains surging throughout his body were only making him harder.

She might not have known much, but she sure as hell learned quick.

“Go to hell, kid.”

“Not without you, I’m not.”

Shit...’ he thought shortly, tipping his head back as he felt those fingers go back to work and progress further south, inching nearer and nearer the area she knew he wanted them most.

To his slight disappointment, one of her hands rose to rest upon his shoulder.

To his supreme irritation, the other lowered to brush hard against his crotch.

Hidan leaned forward and buried his face within the nape of his student’s neck, mouthing urgencies against her skin as he pushed himself expectantly into her hand. She slipped her fingers underneath the tightened cloth; her loose fist ghosted over him, massaging the length hidden by the tented fabric beneath her, skin just barely making contact as her hand moved up and down the sleek surface in several tormenting, fluid motions. His breathing shallowed at the generous repetition; another smooth tug had her beseeching hand coaxing him to rise to his extent.

“Fucker,” he finally snapped, his voice more labored than menacing. “You know I can’t get off like this.”

She brushed her nose across his jawline. “Do I?”

Hidan despised how helpless he felt at this point.

He fucking hated it, this weird sense of vulnerability his organization honored its members for masking.

His hair was messed up, and his cloak was half-off, and beads of sweat were forming around the sides of his neck from the agonizing wait he was forced to bear, but he really didn’t give a shit anymore. Dignity was something you sacrificed in place of these situations, and that was something they both knew.

She slid down his body, adjusting her mindful stance to accompany him.

Already, he could feel the last vestiges of complex thought haplessly drifting away.

Yuni positioned herself between his legs and fumbled with the ties of his pants, carefully pulling the thick fabric down enough to expose him from beneath his boxers. She’d become almost eager at the prospect of serving him this way, pleasuring him in whichever manner he saw fit; she’d provide him with more satisfaction than the other women did, because she could provide him with the one thing the other women couldn’t.

Release, of course.

Try as he might, Hidan couldn’t seem to keep his eyelids lifted long enough to watch what she did next, fearing that the sight alone would push him over the edge.

He isn’t thinking of Jashin when he feels his student’s nervous breath on him, cooling the sweat from the surface of his heated skin.

He isn’t thinking of religious boundaries when the shivering mixture of hot and cold spreads through him like wildfire and makes his affirmation grow hurried.

Yuni took a deep inhale and bravely wrapped a hand around tight enough to keep him in place, glancing back up favorably when she noticed the small gush of clear fluid already secreting from the tip. “Does this mean I’ve perfected my training?”

“Goddamn it, kid...” he growled. “Would you stop fucking stalling and just--nngh...”

She started from the bottom, stroking her warm, curious tongue across his entirety.

His breath hitched sharply at the contact, the indulgence sending quivers up his spine.

Her grasp on the base of his shaft tightened whilst she took her time exploring his considerable length, gently dragging upon the underside and letting her soft tongue roam where it may. Drawing her teeth against his skin on a deliberately playful upstroke, she finally reached to suckle the sensitive top, clearing the flow of pre-cum trickling from the tip of his head.

His hand reached down and followed its familiar path, grasping at his student’s hair and pushing a closed fist against the back of her neck. She shifted down without waiting for his lead, taking in as much of him as she could, until he brushed hard against the entrance of her throat. Surprised by the enthusiasm, Hidan accidentally bit his tongue, feeling the girl tremble beneath him whilst the hardened skin pulsed between her lips. His fingers clenched within her hair as he felt her force intensify; she slid him in and out, that warm, tight mouth of hers engulfing him, somehow managing to swallow him whole. It takes him a moment to recognize the sounds echoing within the room as his own.

Her bangs tapped against the surface of his inner thigh as she bobbed her head agonizingly slow, which was right when she started doing something with her tongue that made him moan under his breath and his hold on her tighten further. She certainly seemed to be enjoying herself; those tiny shifts her body made, those little giggles resonating down him in the most wonderful way...

Then, for some demented, sadistic reason, she stopped.

“Do you like how it feels, Sensei?”

He stalled for a moment, but nodded vigorously, trying to call attention back to his rudely forgotten--

Appeasing him at once, that maddening mouth of hers was on him again, teasing up and down the sides; he could basically feel that devious smile forming against him. “Then why won’t you look at me?”

A second or two of reluctant silence passed before Hidan finally glanced down and saw those glistening eyes of hers look up, searching his own for the slightest sign of approval. He couldn’t remember whether or not his expression gave her the reaction she wanted, but whatever it was made her take him in again.

Yuni kept her own vision half-lidded, loving how the scarlet tainted her mentor’s face as he continued guiding her, watching her every move.

A blush was just one of those things you couldn’t hide.

Suddenly, an odd, unfamiliar tightness began coiling within the pit of her stomach: something resembling eagerness, but not as easy to repress. She pressed her knees together, cold sweatdrops sliding from her temple as she tried her hardest to ignore the strange warmth growing between her thighs; that look on his face, those sounds he kept making--she was making him do that.


Wrapped up in her own visions, she unknowingly slipped her tongue along the length of his slit.

By the way his hips practically bucked underneath her, she knew she must’ve done something right.

Hidan tilted his head back and ran off into an unintelligible string of profanity, consumed by the feel of himself disappearing and reappearing inside of her. He pulled her head down to press himself inside even further, making her take him in to the hilt; he drew nothing short of whines from her, whines which vibrated across his length as she suppressed a choke, allowing him to press forward until he was halfway down her goddamned throat. Obedient as always, she followed the pace he set with his hand, pushing herself faster as he continued guiding the timing of her motions, escalating until he could feel the swiftness of his own climax approaching.

Making sure to skirt the gag reflex with every fibre of her being, she felt his hips jerk suddenly, and she braced herself for his release.

Her grip on him tightened as she followed his careful instructions to carry it though, her anticipative moans amplifying his own staggering climb to ecstasy. He bit his lip hard enough to draw blood; a shiver started at the base of his spine and made his mind go white, wave after wave of delirium pulsing and beating and radiating throughout every curve of his body. He reared his head back and came on a stifled noise ripped from the depths of his being; the girl’s tongue continued touching welcomingly against him as he emptied himself into her, the muscles in the back of her throat contracting and releasing with each swallow.


An exhale of satisfaction escaped him as the swelling tides of pleasure receded to the point of comprehension; his expression relaxed and he tipped his head forward to rest the back of his neck against the bedside. He felt his student whimper quietly against him as his unconscious grip on her hair relaxed with the rest of his body. He didn’t make eye contact for the next few seconds, looking down only when his heartbeat steadied and his hearing fully returned.

Haa...” he breathed, eyelids heavy over a violet gaze as he glanced back down at the girl posed between his legs. “Not...not bad, kid.”

Tugging his pants back up around his waist, the kunoichi withdrew herself from the tip of his still-warm erection, blushing as a viscid thread of saliva and semen trailed off the edge of her tongue. She sat up and wiped the corner of her mouth with a bloodied thumb, then proceeded to teasingly lick her finger clean.

She winked. “Always a pleasure, Sensei.”

The very sight of it drove him feral.

His racing mind still clear of rational thought, Hidan sat up and grabbed the young woman’s hand into his own.

Startled by his actions, Yuni froze within his aggressive embrace, reluctant to hold onto him the way she so desired; to have his hair between her fingers, to take in his scent, to press him up against her chest and feel exactly what else that energetic mouth of his could do.

Instead, she followed his lead as he strengthened his contact and pinned her to the ground, turning her around and forcefully clasping her wrists behind her back.

Hidan seemed to have forgotten how sore his body really was at the moment, or how desperately those bandages of his still needed changing, but these arrant urges had spun almost entirely out of his control.

“Send me a line.”


“I’m not asking twice.”

Yuni nodded quickly, before a long, glowing blue thread left the end of her index finger.

Pulling on the radiant thread, Hidan wrapped it tightly around her wrists, taking the remaining length and looping it twice around her neck, leaving her shackled and on a leash with the same line. The tautness of the line itself prevented her from breaking away; the more she moved, the tighter his grasp around the thread became.

There was a pause of concern between them before Hidan decided to continue, dipping his head lower to meet the crook of his victim’s neck. The coolness of his expelled breath played down her exposed skin as he bared his teeth against her shoulder, tongue dragging along until her anxious shudders became so obvious it was pathetic.

She found herself on her back in an instant.

Hidan had abandoned the rest of his cloak entirely. He held his hands against the floor on either side of Yuni’s head, propping himself up as his hips pressed hard against hers to hold her in place beneath him. The beads of his rosary clinked against the metal plate of his hitai-ate, its cold circular pendant dangling over the girl’s neckline.

Yuni’s hands clenched into one another as he pulled even harder on the leash. The white-hot sensation seared into her wrists and neck and hurt terribly, burning into her flesh as her unconscious struggles to ease the scorching proved futile. The strange haze which accompanied the pain earned a flustered groan from the girl; the conflicting contrast of pleasure against pain only made to intensify the former, an uncertain, exciting, dangerous feeling she was too dizzy to make heads or tails of.

Her silent panting only shallowed when his voice breathed darkly by her ear.

“You’re really fucking pushing it, aren’t you?”

Catching the opportunity like the expert she was meant to be, Yuni shifted beneath him, sharply pressing her inner thigh against the renewed half-arousal he thought she wouldn’t notice. Hidan shut his eyes and grimaced from the sudden force, hissing through clenched teeth as he hung his neck and lowered his head by hers.

She closed her eyes and touched her cheek against his. “Oops.”

Hidan pulled out a polished kunai from the weaponry holster tied behind his disciple’s back. The metal’s glint reflected against his eyes as he waved the weapon in front of her.

“Kid, I’m going to need you to hold still.”

She remained unflinching as the blade hovered close to her throat. “How much blood am I losing this time?”

“Depends,” he said casually, his unoccupied fingers brushing strands of stray hair from her cheek with fallacious affection.

“On what?”

“On how much I feel like taking.”

He pressed the end of the blade against her skin, tipping her chin up with the point of the kunai.

She moved to slip her head lower.

Yuni kept her eyes trained on him as she stuck her tongue out, licking across the sharp edge of the blade, wincing as it sliced across the surface of her skin. The resulting gush of crimson trickled down the length of her tongue, spilling in thin rivers across her cheeks.

He laughed at the sight.

He does not kiss her, she knows, because she is not worthy.

She shut her eyes and waited for him to make his mark.

All he did was smile.