Hidan hates the water.

Fear is not quite the word to describe the feeling he has toward the stuff, but it’s close. He can swim, and will if he has too, but would just as soon avoid any large body of water altogether.

He is not scared, per say… only bothered by it. You see, Hidan wouldn’t drown in the water. His lungs would fill with fluid and his body would sink; his heart would continue to pump blood through his body even as the pressure around him increased to agonizing levels. He would go blind in the dark after he lost the ability to move, and still he would be alive, trapped in the dark, and he would be alone.

There are many things in this shitty world that are terrible and horrible and hateful, but the thought of being alone, crushed by all those tons of water, in the dark where not even Jashin could help him was just-

“Let’s go.”

unbearable. He couldn’t stand the idea, and yet it forced it’s way into his mind each time he drew close to any thing more than a glass of water.

He stares at Kakuzu, who has procured the boat from who-knows-where. Then he stares at the boat, which is narrow and flimsy and expectedly cheap, a many-patched and much used thing that is as likely to sink as it is to sail. “I’m not getting in that fucking thing.”

Arguing with Kakuzu has two possible outcomes- either he will win and the larger man will give up, or Kakuzu will become angry and both of them will feel worse for it. It is better, he has learned to gripe about the unpleasantries and go along with them than to actually fight for something.

But that boat and all this water…

The wet is not what bothers him, although he does prefer to stay dry if its all the same. It’s the eternal un-life awaiting him at the bottom of the lake should some sort of accident occur.

“Get in the boat, Hidan.” Cold, emotionless, Kakuzu’s tone makes it obvious that he is not in the mood for this game. “You’re wasting time.”

The pale man gnaws at his lip, wide eyes staring at the boat and counting the ways this could go wrong. “That piece of shit is not a boat. It’ll fucking sink before we get ten feet out there.”

Broad arms cross over an equally thick chest, creepy eyes narrowing in displeasure. The command needs no words, Kakuzu gives them none. Get over here, that look says, and fast. Hidan makes a face and takes a single step closer to the boat, then looks out over the water. The day is clear, sunny, still. He hasn’t seen anyone since the man Kakuzu pointed out who sold the crappy bits of knocked-together wood that he called boats.

How deep the lake is, he has no idea. Deep enough, he is sure, to swallow him whole and hold him captive. He does not want to get in the rickety vessel with his partner and cross the water. But the island is, of course, surrounded by water on all sides- it cannot be reached any other way, unless he wanted to take the chances of swimming.

After a moment of further hesitation, he feels a hand wrap around his arm, pulling him. He allows himself to be pulled, making only a wordless whine of halfhearted protest. His bastard partner laughs at him as he stumbles into the boat and Kakuzu pushes off. They are on the water, and each slight movement rocks them too and fro. Hidan grips the sides of the boat until his knuckles turn white and closes his eyes. He hates himself for the unease and how obvious it is, but it can’t be helped.

Of course, his silence is complimented by Kakuzu’s- the only sound is the slap of oars into still water, the creak of the wood in the oarlock. These are not the sounds Hidan wants to hear; they remind him of the lurking danger. So he hums to himself, a noise of no particular rhythm or pattern, audible anxiety.

The sound dies when Kakuzu shifts just a little too far, tipping the boat so far Hidan’s fingers touch the water. Unable to help it, the albino jumps slightly, and then curses loudly. His partner only looks at him in dim surprise, too used to his spastic manner.

In the middle, where the water is a deep enough blue as to be black, too murky to find the bottom, he clamps his lips and eyes shut and makes no noise. Though he doesn’t notice it, Kakuzu stares at him mildly, observing his stiff posture and tight face, drawing his own conclusion. Being the master of problem solving that he is, the ex-waterfall ninja is, of course, correct in his assumption that Hidan dislikes the water.

They never really loose the oar, although by the look Hidan gives one might assume they’d been stranded hopelessly. No, lulled by the repetitive motion of rowing and dull (although not exactly unattractive) sight of the zealot’s stressed face, Kakuzu’s hand simply slackened a little to much, allowing the oar to slip away. Still as the water is, it goes no where, floating a little way from the boat. Simple enough to retrieve, as Kakuzu tells Hidan when ordering him to lean over the water and grab it.

Of course, he balks. Looking over the dark water, it is easy to imagine the lake as a great maw opened wide to consume him, waiting for such a silly mistake as leaning to far out of his rickety little boat. “Fuck you,” he says in response to Kakuzu’s no-nonsense glare. He is not stupid.

“What are you afraid of?” The larger man snaps finally, annoyed by the stubborn and rather childish refusal. “You can’t drown!”

Oddly enough, the look on the preacher’s face is almost enough to make him withdraw his snarkish tone. It is the look of a man terrified, but too conscious of himself to allow the terror. The look of a child too old to believe in the boogey man he knows is lurking.

“Drowning,” Hidan says evenly, voice stretched thin over discomfort and anger, “is not my problem. Asshole.”

“Then grab the damn oar.” Kakuzu suggests, voice only a little warmer. Kicked though Hidan may look, he is still being an idiot. “You’re wasting my time.”

Recalcitrant and annoyed by the irritable tone, Hidan very slowly and with great caution leans out, all the while waiting for the inevitable plunge, and grabs the oar. He swings it at Kakuzu’s head, missing narrowly and being kicked in return. It is this that finally tips the boat. His arms windmill comically as he tries to maintain balance, falling further and further toward the water. One of his hands smacks the water, splashing it into the boat, and he knows he’s going to fall.

Calm, perhaps annoyingly so, Kakuzu reaches out and grabs one flailing arm, righting the zealot quickly. For a moment, the panicked face looks ready to thank him, Hidan’s mouth opens slowly, but no sound escapes. The masked man laughs softly and shakes his head.

He sits and he seethes, glaring death at his partner. Still, he is grateful for and a little surprised by the rescue. He withholds any comment for now.

“I wouldn’t let you fall.”

There is no warning before the words, and their eyes do not meet. Between is unreadable eyes and the mask covering his lips, Hidan doesn’t know if Kakuzu is being a jerk or being pleasant. So strange is the thought of the cold man saying such a thing that later Hidan will wonder if Kakuzu said them at all.

Silence carries them safely to the shore of the island, and Hidan manages to refrain from falling on his knees to thank Jashin, but only through great strength of will. He settles instead for a murmured prayer and shouted curse at his cheap bastard of a companion.

Amused by the thought that his small, proud partner is afraid of drowning, Kakuzu ignores the words thrown at him. He wonders if Hidan will be more compliant on the return trip, or more resistant.