How to Train Your Jashinist

This takes place during the current war, and while I try to follow the story line as much as I feel needed, not everything will be accurate, because it was forgotten, or I changed it for the purposes of this fanfic. This fic will contain mature content, including yaoi (boy on boy) scenes, sexual situations, and foul language. The pairing is Hidan x Shikamaru. If you aren’t comfortable with any of that content or the pairing, don’t read, and don’t flame. All others, I hope you enjoy this two shot.



I do not own any of the characters, they belong to Masashi Kishimoto, creator of Naruto. I only own the idea of this story.

Familiar Faces II

“C’mon.”



“Fuck you, I don’t wanna follow you!” Hidan growled and spat like a pissed off cougar. His curses and defiant words did nothing to call his own body back under his complete control.



One step, two steps, three steps…and Hidan’s body was trailing after its younger master.



“Your stubborn defiance is annoying…” Shikamaru drawled, balancing a cigarette between his thin lips.



His hand fished out Asuma’s old lighter from its usual pocket, but Shikamaru paused in lighting up. His sharp dark eyes stared thoughtfully into scuffed metallic silver.



Asuma, will you hate me for working with your murderer?



Hidan spat on the ground again in distaste. “What’s keeping you from lighting up that heathen cancer?” he jabbed.



Shikamaru did not give him a response, but did flick open the lighter and fired it up, lighting his much craved cigarette. He did, however, turn to face Hidan as he inhaled the smoke deeply. The zealot blinked in mild surprise after suddenly getting the full attention of the younger man.



Shikmaru stepped coolly up to Hidan in a measured stride, then deliberately blew the cigarette smoke straight into the latter’s face. If he had been disgusted by the sight of the cigarette before, Hidan was now repulsed by the toxic cloud wafting around him.



“D-Dick!!” Hidan barked between hacking coughs, waving his hand frantically to dispel the smoke.



“Look who’s talking,” was Shikamaru’s only reply.



Hidan snarled in his primal way and raised his hands to pummel the teenager. His neck suddenly burned furiously. His fists only managing to reach an inch from Shikamaru’s face. Hidan stared at his hands, as they legitimately felt like they were being blocked by air. The zealot pushed more force behind his forearms, but his fists would not budge forward anymore. Relaxing his hands, Hidan, pulled his muscles back towards himself. This time his arms moved freely. He stared incredulously down at them, before turning his attention to his strangely seared neck.



Gears running, Shikamaru too studied Hidan’s hands, but he looked less surprised. When Shikamaru ordered Hidan to release him in the hospital room, his tattoo seemed to react to it. He also noticed Hidan’s tattoo begun to glow as the other man tried to assault him.



Seems like things are syncing up better within this jutsu, he thought.



What the hell? Hidan inwardly cursed.



The Jashinist brushed his fingers and palm over the side of his neck where he felt the burn. He did not feel much, but slightly raised skin. The sensation was gone.



“What did you do?” growled Hidan.



“Let’s go find that stupid scythe of yours,” Shikamaru verbally evaded, turning to continue on.



The bones in Hidan’s legs creaked like an old wooden door as they were forced to follow his Shikamaru wherever he wished. Though he was able to heal together quickly, Hidan still felt a continual dull aching all over his body. He felt incredibly stiff, not quite like the nimble, flexible self he used to be yet. Now he felt a bit of a wreck inside of a cage. He was sedated wild animal slowly waking up to find its wings were clipped, and his new home was the zoo. Hidan absolutely hated feeling locked up and controlled.



His muscles twitched, wanting to break out of this robotic walk. He wanted to run. He wanted to charge the kid he hated and beat him to death with his naked fists. Still his limbs wouldn’t listen to the mad electrical impulses his brain was rapidly firing. A prisoner of his own body.



Fuck…







In the next few hours into their journey to the Forest of Dead Trees, the two shinobi walked in complete verbal quiet. Hidan decided talking irately wouldn’t help his situation. He need look inward and think of a solution.



Shikamaru remained silent because he didn’t like talking to the killer of his teacher. So he carried on, lighting at least three more cigarettes before they reached the jagged, bare trees standing guard to the barren forest. He was smoking at least half as much as Asuma used to.



This place sure hasn’t changed, Hidan considered.



His eyes searched out the location, reminiscing the dead ground, trees, and scarce foliage. It look exactly as it had the day he and Kakuzu fought the kid and his teammates.



Shikamaru couldn’t deny the perfect stillness the forest held either. The location appeared like it was isolated from the rest of the world. Unchangeable. Had this place always looked like this, or did it just age slowly? Shikamaru brushed away his insignificant ponderings and memories, instead focusing on finding where Hidan dropped his scythe.



“Think it’s even still here?” Hidan voiced his thoughts suddenly. He silently hoped so, though.



“You’re still here, aren’t you?“ Shikamaru said, then inhaled the last of his latest cancer stick before flicking the butt to the ground, “You’re a lot like a good blade. You might get nicked and rusted with blood, but you’ll keep cutting forever without breaking. So I assume your crazy weapon has survived as well.” that said, his sandal stamped the cigarette into the dusty ground.



Hidan felt himself blink in mild puzzlement. “Are you fuckin’ complimenting me?”



Shikamaru‘s eyebrows twitched together in annoyance. “Tsk…no, merely making a comparison so your idiot mind will comprehend,”



“Oi, I’m not stupid!” Hidan yelled, lashing out in the only way he could at the moment.



Shikamaru only kept walking, muttering a “Mendokusen” under his breath.



At least another hour of searching went by before the forest finally yielded what the two young men were hoping to find. The cherry red planes of the scythe were dingy from its time in nature without proper care. Otherwise the blades were pristine.



“Well damn, you’re right.”



“You can pick it up,” Shikamaru permitted.



Hidan gladly accepted the invitation. Holding his signature weapon in his hands was like reuniting with a long lost friend. His body adjusted to its weight almost immediately, remembering just how to balance it in his grip to make a quick slash to obtain blood.



His body tensed, weight slowly shifting to the opposite leg, the leg furthest from Shikamaru. His hands carefully shifting the weapon from one side to the other, subtly raising it. Hidan wanted to slice the brat’s legs from under him. He wanted his blood to run. Oh how he wanted…



Shikamaru sensed the killing intent radiating strongly off Hidan the instant the Jashinist picked up the scythe. But instead of ordering Hidan to cease his attack, he mentally allowed the other’s body to continue the attack he was planning. Shikamaru’s peripheral caught Hidan doubling his scythe back for a horizontal strike. While he saw all of this in intense slow motion, he only had precious moments to dodge.



Seconds later, the powerful whoosh of the weathered old scythe cut through the air. It sliced over Shikamaru’s backward bent torso. A narrow, but complete miss.



Hidan’s mind registered the failed attack, whipping his weapon upward to rectify his mistake. Shikamaru’s mind was far more nimble than Hidan’s, his reflexes a step ahead. One of the young man’s hands braced the ground, while the opposite shoulder sharply leaned away from Hidan. The momentum sent Shikamaru rolling out away a good few feet from Hidan’s downward attack. The sound of the three blades cracking the empty ground echoed through the desolate landscape, and their ears.



The master of shadows righted himself into a kneeling position, hands flying blindly into the appropriate seals. His shadow below him responded with a unearthly hiss, rushing over the ground at his older opponent. Shikamaru could have easily barked out a command or mentally ordered Hidan to stop his attack many moments ago. He didn’t, however, and he didn’t know why. He didn’t try to know why or why not in those moments.



Hidan’s first instinct was to give chase, but then he saw that thin line of inky shadow slithering towards him, forcing him to flip into the air away from it. He really hated that jutsu. Almost as much as he hated the jutsu’s caster.



“That trick again?” Hidan called out from above as he descended, twisting to land out of the Shadow Possession’s range. He landed on his feet in a crouch like a giant silver haired panther.



“And you still attack without thinking, like a brainless barbarian,” Shikamaru jabbed back.



Both shinobi were currently at a stalemate. Instead of immediately picking up the fight where it suddenly left off, the two remained rooted to their positions, staring the other down.



Hidan had to inwardly admit Shikamaru earned several good marks in Hidan’s book. While he was a slow attacker, no other individual could ever outmaneuvered him so continuously. He had to admit that no opponent before could bring out the fight in him quite like Shikamaru. Having never fought anyone twice, Hidan felt as if it was, again, like meeting an old familiar acquaintance. Everything about this location, this person, this moment. Was nostalgic. That didn’t mean he had to like the brat. He still wanted to kill him.



On Shikamaru’s end, the leaf ninja was experiencing similar thoughts. While Hidan was quite dense, he had an almost incomparable drive and determination. It was a commendable trait, but it was a trait his ultimate enemy possessed. Shikamaru sighed quietly, wondering what things would have been like if they were reborn, or met under different circumstances.



“We might even have been friends,” Shikamaru whispered to himself, then shook his head of that. Am I crazy? He could never be a friend of mine. I hate him with all my being.



Shikamaru stood, but held his handsigns. His shadow retreated back to him, but only to lure Hidan into a false sense of security. His shadow was still cocked and ready.



Hidan watched the shadow with eagle eyes, but didn’t take the bait as easily as before. He knew himself that he was rash and not too bright, but he tried to learn things during fights. The Jashinist knew by now to be careful of the Nara clan’s kekkei genkai. Instead of running towards his prey, he ran away from it.



The unusual act made Shikamaru falter for just a second, but his mind snapped back to analyzing. The younger nin made a clone of himself, giving it just enough of his chakra to make a signature. He in turn masked the remainder of his own chakra. The two Shikamarus then gave chase after Hidan’s signature. The clone followed in a more predictable manner, while the original chased more covertly.



Hidan continued running wildly through the dead trees. He had no real aim he was running to, except that he wanted to bring Shikamaru to him this time. The humming of the trees passing at a high speed went unnoticed by the former Akatsuki. His ears were cocked, listening only for one thing. Pursuit.



His senses felt the brat’s chakra spike, then return to normal. Now the chakra signature was coming after him. While Hidan knew himself that he lacked a little in the thinking department, but knew by now to expect a lot of unbelievable things from that kid. Right now, something didn’t feel right to him. Shikamaru wouldn’t charge after him, he’d try to ambush him.



The brat’s pulling something, Hidan surmised.



Dust kicked up from his feet as Hidan skidded to a stop, looking for a place to hide and scout his enemy’s movements. He followed Shikamaru’s example and hid his chakra as well. Hidan didn’t have time to hide elaborately, though, because he felt the younger man’s chakra almost on him. He only had time to duck behind a thick tree.



Suddenly, Shikamaru was in the clearing Hidan had been prior. Hidan peeked out from the tree, studying the boy’s movements. His enemy caught the movement, making the zealot regret looking. Again, Hidan had to dodge the shadow zooming at him. He was getting tired of the boy’s same old tricks.



“Smart, but you still won’t catc-” Hidan’s cocky banter broke off like the snap of a twig when he felt himself get caught within a certain jutsu.



“You were saying?” came Shikamaru’s voice from behind him.



The Shikamaru before him vanished in a puff of smoke, revealing itself to be a clone. The genuine article turned his head back slightly, allowing Hidan to mimic the movement and see him. The shadow that had come from the clone distracted Hidan into flight mode, making him forget that Shikamaru was most likely setting a trap. Shikamaru was a master manipulator on the battlefield.



A snarl escaped the zealot. His predicament infuriating him to no end. He was more than pissed. The more he struggled, though, the more he seemed to remembered the longer Shikamaru held him, the weaker his Shadow Possession became. Hidan tensed his muscles, the veins more apparent under his skin as he struggled against the jutsu.



Shikamaru felt his shadow quiver around Hidan’s, a tell tale sign that Hidan was starting to power out. He couldn’t let his “slave” have the upper hand. More chakra poured into the jutsu, making the shadows jerk and flail up towards the air.



“Damnit!” Hidan ground out between clenched teeth.



Pins and needles tingled his immortal body. Stinging paper cut-like pain coursed through his veins from the shadows stabbing into him. He was body was stuck, frozen to the ground.



Holding his hands in an iron grip to keep up his Shadow Stitching, Shikamaru stood straight and gingerly stepped towards the enslaved man. The closer he got, the stronger the shadows piercing Hidan through held their target. Shikamaru stopped once he was in front of Hidan, facing him.



“You’re muscles loosened up fast, but you still fight too predictably,” said the younger man.



“ I don’t fucking need your shitty advice!”



Shikamaru sighed. “Mendo…if we’re going to work together, you’ll have to start changing your tactics.”



A flash of silver hair and black clothes leapt at Shikamaru, toppling him to the ground. His back crashed hard into the dead ground. A forced gasp tore from his open lips. By the time Shikamaru could perceive what had happened to him, Hidan was over him.



The black extendable pike the zealot had carried around before was now back in its owner’s hand. It was fully extended. It raised over high over Shikamaru, aiming for his jack rabbit heart.



When did he find that?! was Shikamaru’s only thought as he looked his fate in the face.



“DIE!” Hidan cried out wildly.



The maniac priest plunged the point downward.