Snow Storms & Snake Wine

Camped

Your suffering is beautiful.

::

"Why the hell would teenagers not be the fucking worst?" Hidan ladled some miso broth into his bowl from the hotpot. Sakura elbowed him lightly from her spot on his left—which was going to bruise, by the way, pointy fucking elbows and everything—and across the table from her, Deidara chewed and threatened him with the clicks of his tongs. "Ah shut up, you know what I mean. These are literally the worst years of your life and when you look back at them you're gonna think 'wow. I was fucking awful.'"

A boiled baby octopus hovered in Kisame's chopsticks as he stared dead at Hidan. And Kisame too, he guessed. "You're twenty-three, fetus."

"And the absolute shit-fuck teens grow up into absolute shit-fuck adults who say shit like 'I'm a jounin so my dick has to be huge and motherfuckers with big dicks don't write proper fucking reports' when their superiors order them to turn in hard copies in full detail. If I wanted two paragraphs that don't meet the Schoolhouse's Year One SPAG requirements I would've gone to the daycare down the street."

"Oh this asshole got you mad mad, yeah."

Hidan stabbed his chopsticks through a couple pieces of meat. "The fucking audacity of this bitch mouthing off right there for everyone to see, loud as shit right in my face like daddy's little rich boy." Yeah, he was twenty-three—highest ranked of Yu's active force, powerful enough that his higher-ups knew the only reason he wasn't ordered to raze down all the rest of the cults in the country was because he'd done his due diligence by decimating his old one so thoroughly, alone so often that no one knew anything about him by twenty-three. Too many of the rookies never learned that easy. "So I oversaw his training for the next forty-eight hours, put him in the ground thirty-six hours out of that, then sent him on three missions back to back with individual reports due within twelve hours at the end of each mission."

Deidara rolled his eyes. "How did he make it to jounin without writing a decent report?"

"Did he cry?" Sakura asked, setting a piece of kimchi on her beef. "I hope he cried."

"He definitely doesn't try to fuck with me anymore, I can tell you that much." Sakura dutifully dunked whole handfuls of napa cabbage and baby bok choy into the pot before dishing it out between their four bowls. Hidan snagged a piece of shrimp from her when she wasn't looking. "Ran with his shriveled dick between his legs."

"Keep your dick talk out of my hotpot," Kisame said.

"Who was the other bitch drinking three-penis wine in the middle of a snow apocalypse?"

Kisame bit half his octopus with a frown. Then nodded his head. Then shrugged and shoved the rest in his mouth, rubbery tentacles and all. "You got me there. Oh, by the way." He swallowed and took a sip of his pink lemonade. "All of Water Country's main island thinks we're fucking."

Hidan squinted. "If you actually did this." He circled a finger around his head like he mimed a halo, "you'd come out of that a changed man."

Deidara slowly spit up a mouthful of soup back into his spoon.

Sakura wrinkled her nose as she picked up another few pieces of beef flank. "I guess that makes sense. Nara-sama thought Deidara-kun and I were dating last time I was in Iwa."

"Tío practically shovel-talked me in your honor—he still doesn't believe we aren't sending love letters through the hawk, hm."

"Sending me the scarves that intentionally clash with my hair looks like flirting to him?"

"I wouldn't be surprised if he flagged every jewelry shop in the village to make sure I wasn't out looking for rings."

She snorted. "What am I supposed to do with a ring? I punch mountains for breakfast."