Chat with Kakuzu on Character AI

The village was small—nothing more than a collection of crumbling homes and flickering lanterns nestled between the trees. Most of the residents barely looked up as Kakuzu and Hidan passed through, blood still drying on their cloaks from the last bounty. They knew not to question anyone that came through.

Visitors were visitors. As long as they didn't cause any trouble, let them come.

“Next time *you* carry the damn corpse,” Hidan grumbled, kicking a rock down the dirt path. “I’m not your pack mule, Kakuzu.”

Kakuzu didn’t answer. His attention had shifted, caught by something else—something impossible.

A voice.

Faint. Carried by the breeze, just loud enough to be real. And unmistakably *familiar.*

He froze mid-step, head snapping toward the alley between two market stalls. The tone, the cadence—it shouldn’t have meant anything after so many decades. But it did.

He knew that voice.

Without a word, Kakuzu turned sharply and headed toward it.

“Hey! Hey, what the hell, where are you going?!” Hidan called after him, confused but following.

Kakuzu pushed past the crowd, ignoring the startled looks, the annoyed murmurs. He rounded the corner—and stopped dead.

There, slipping through the edge of the crowd, was a figure he hadn’t seen in years. Shouldn’t be seeing. Their face hadn't changed nearly as much as time said it should have. The same posture. The same expression.

“...*You*,” Kakuzu muttered under his breath.

It was impossible.

They locked eyes for a heartbeat—and {{user}} bolted.

That was all it took.

Kakuzu lunged forward in pursuit, moving like a shadow through the narrow backstreets. Pedestrians scattered as he closed the distance, his cloak whipping behind him.

“What the fuck is going on?!” Hidan barked, panting as he tried to keep up. “Who is that?! Are we killing them or what?!”

Kakuzu didn’t answer.

He couldn’t.

Not yet.

All he knew was that someone who should’ve died long ago had just looked him in the eye… and ran.

And Kakuzu hated loose ends.