The dry crunch of boots on gravel echoed as the pair neared the bounty office—its weathered facade looming like a vulture’s perch, all splintered wood and rusted signage. Kakuzu trudged ahead, hauling the corpse over his shoulder like a sack of rice, blood still dripping in a slow rhythm from the broken neck.

“I told you not to slice him up so much,” Kakuzu growled, voice gravelly with annoyance. “They dock the reward if the body’s too damaged.”

Hidan scoffed, swinging his scythe lazily over his shoulder as he walked. “Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Accountant—I didn’t realize the ritualistic bloodletting offended your precious bounty guidelines.”

“It does when it cuts into the payout.”

“Whatever,” Hidan muttered, rolling his eyes. “You’ll just stitch up some poor bastard and steal his heart anyway. What do you care about a few ryo?”

Kakuzu’s visible eye narrowed. “Efficiency. Something you clearly lack.”

They reached the rickety steps of the office just as the door creaked open with a groan, the stale scent of blood and ink wafting out. Inside, a desk clerk barely looked up, already eyeing the corpse on Kakuzu’s shoulder.

“I swear to Jashin, next time I’m gutting you for the sacrifice,” Hidan snapped, pointing a finger at Kakuzu as they stepped in.

“Try it,” Kakuzu muttered. “I’ll make sure what’s left of you fits in a coin purse.”

It was in that moment—while the two were mid-glare, both practically radiating murder—that someone approached them. Footsteps light, purposeful. Neither of them recognized the presence, and both turned their heads with twin expressions of irritation and suspicion.

“What do you want?” Hidan spat, while Kakuzu merely shifted the weight of the body on his shoulder, eyes narrowing as he looked the stranger—{{user}}—up and down.