Trapped
A soft muffled groan slipped past blood-stained lips as violet eyes fluttered opened to darkness. Unbearable pain bloomed deep in the recesses of his tired mind. A migraine was setting in, caused by the same sharp object that was pushing at his face and piercing his cheek. What was it, he wondered. A stone? Or maybe even a fragment of his own skull that got crushed by the falling rocks that had buried him in this place. This grave. The bone, as he assumed it was, was slowly sinking into tender flesh with every small movement of his head, filling his mouth with the sweet taste of iron. Hidan tried to move his arms, fingers, toes, anything, but nothing moved. The limbs were no longer his to command. Though he could feel them, feel the bones as they cracked and crumbled under the pressure of the earth. It didn’t hurt so much as it burned like a wild fire that began at every edge of freshly torn skin and spread, mercilessly, throughout his body.
“Kakuzu?” It was a whisper, muddled by the mixture of blood, saliva, and mud that filled the back of his throat.
“Kakuzu!” Fear seeped though the stone walls of his chest and wrapped around a heart that could no longer protect itself.
“Kakuzu! You stupid fuck! Help!” The rocks above him shifted and he panicked, desperately sucking in air in an attempt to breath only to choke instead. The lungs that belonged to his severed torso had collapsed during the fall and though his immortality supplied his mouth with oxygen, the fluid that sat at the base of his neck gagged him. His heart, not quite as crushed as his lungs, fluttered pitifully amongst the graveyard of his chest. Ribs broken and lying about like tombstones. He had to remain calm, he had to think. Not that he was ever good at doing either, and in a situation such as this, he knew it would be a challenge. Hidan forced his mind to forget about breathing for the time being, he could worry about that later, it wasn’t like he was going to die. Rather than air, the immortal focused on his partner. Where was he? Was he alive? Or was he dead? If he were alive, would he come back for him? Hidan closed his eyes and tried to pray.
“Jasin…” There was silence as Hidan struggled for words, struggled to even speak. What could he say to a merciless god of slaughter and death that could save him. He could cry out his devotion. Carry on about how he spent every second of his life worshiping his lord, preparing worthy sacrifices, and spilling blood in his name. Yet a part of him knew that that would be fruitless and so he sat there quietly in the darkness of his grave, not thinking or moving or breathing. He was dead to the world and yet very much alive. Days would pass, then months, then years. Time ticking away as the man lay forgotten and alone. No noises descended from above and there was nothing below but the sound of worms and small animals digging around him, and sometimes through him, as if he were nothing. Yet despite these disturbances Hidan remained quiet, verging on insanity, as he slowly healed.
It would take many years for his body to reform. The constant pressure of the rocks buffering the ability for his bones to snap themselves back into place while his flesh had to force out all manner of debris. However, time proved useful, mending his wounds until each individual piece was whole, if not separated by rocks and dirt. Through countless hours the immortal dug at the earth with not but his teeth. It was a painful and endless cycle of breaking and repairing as he created his own path, inching his head towards his lonely forgotten body. Hidan couldn’t tell how long it took to find the rest of himself, how many days and nights he stayed awake, running on the relentless determination of a fractured mind. He couldn’t tell, either, how long it took to position his head just right for the flesh to rejoin and the spine to fall back in place. Months maybe. Longer. Sleep never came, nor did blue skies or stars, time was one long jumbled moment as he slowly pieced himself back together. In the end, he couldn’t find everything, some things would simply have to grow back on their own, but he had the important parts. Upon success of his completion the man laughed, it was all he could do to not cry. He had only to dig himself up and out.