"Konan?"
"Hmm? Yes, Kisame?" Konan called out from her bedroom, looking through an old children's book she had recently found from when she was fairly small. The pages were tattered and the text faded, but she remembered every word as if it were new.
"I have a problem," Kisame said, poking his head through the door. His face was that of someone with little experience in what he was dealing with.
Konan looked up from the antique on her lap. "Sure Kisame. What's wrong?"
Just then a small child, no older then ten years of age, shoved his way into the room.
Konan gave Kisame a look of disgust. "What is this?"
"I'm a boy, duh," the youth said, offended. Konan decided at that moment she hated children with a passion.
"Well…As he stated, he's a child. But…I don't know where he came from," Kisame sheepishly mentioned.
"Do you think it's Hidan's?" Konan asked, not even bothering to recognize the child as something other than an "it".
"Probably," Kisame shrugged. "He's out, though, so he can't be asked."
Konan went back to looking at her book. "What do you want me to do about it?" she muttered, flipping through the delicate pages, careful not to tear them.
"Well, you're a woman, and as such would probably be the better choice in watching a child until Hidan comes back to…Do whatever."
The girl shuddered at the last part. Hidan always did creepy things, ghastly, grisly, creepy things.
"He's your problem, now, Konan," Kisame smirked, quickly leaving.
"Hey, wait a second—Kisame, you're a dead man," Konan vowed, watching the child scuttle up onto her bed and proceeded to snuggle himself next to her.
"What'cha reading?" he asked, about to grab the book. She pulled it away before he damaged it.
"A fairy tale. And I advise you not to touch it," she scolded.
"Oh! What's it called?" he asked, bouncing excitedly.
"Uhm, I don't know," she confessed.
"Can you read it?"
Konan thought about this for a moment. It would certainly take a while to tell the story, and the kid would probably fall asleep. "Fine. But you aren't going to touch the book. It's too old and is falling apart."
"Why keep it?" he asked, his large, blue eyes dazzling in wonder.
Konan secretly fantasized about killing the boy right then and there, but kept herself calm. "Because it's a memento."
The boy's face scrunched up as he tried to say the word. "Namento?"
"Close enough."
With that she began her story…
Once upon a time, in a far away land, there was a young maiden named Deidara—
"Isn't Deidara a boy's name?" the boy asked.
"You like to ask a lot of questions, don't you?" Konan retorted back. "Shut up and let me finish my story."
—she had a father who loved her dearly, but no mother. So the father re-wed to a woman with two daughters of her own. She was kind to the girl. Kind, that is, until the father had come down with a horrible virus, and died peacefully in his sleep. That was when the ghastly woman's nature came to light.
She treated Deidara like he—she wasn't even worthy enough to be respected as dirt.
"You switched from she to he," the child pointed out.
Konan gave him a glare worthy of a serpent's. The boy shot daggers back at her. "She's a drag queen, now will you shut up?" Konan snapped. The boy grew silent.
So one day there was a masquerade at the palace, a set-up to get the young (And might I add, single) prince to find a fiancée. Deidara really wanted to go, but alas, the step-mother had other plans.
"You are not to leave this house for the ball until every room in the house is spotless," she said, flicking her wrist.
Deidara replied by sticking out her tongue in defiance.
"You're a horrible little child," the stepmother spat, leaving the house with her two daughters.
"What does the step-family look like?" the boy asked, now into the story.
Konan took a minute to think. "That's up to your imagination to decide."
"That's a stupid answer."
"You're a stupid answer."
A few hours after being stuck alone, and Deidara was really starting to get bored. That's when she noticed somebody watching her.
"Oh! Hello~" the smaller-than-average person said, smiling.
"—The fuck?"
"Oh! Sweetie, I'm your fairy godmother."
"The fumes from these cleaning chemicals are making me high," Deidara muttered.
"You cussed!" the child pointed out in excitement.
Konan frowned. "Fuck hell bitch cunt shit damn. Got it out of your system?"
The boy shook his head no, but Konan continued with her story.
"Well, if I'm not tweaking out on drugs, then how'd you get in and why are you here?" Deidara asked, standing up.
"I already told you, I'm your fairy godmother!" she said, waddling over to look the blonde up and down.
"Yes, that totally answers my question, you crazy old bat," Deidara replied, thoroughly creeped out.
"Oh please, haven't you read the fairy tales before?"
Before the boy had time to comment on this horrible clash, Konan raised her voice loud enough that he forgot.
"Uhm."
"Forget I said anything. You want to go to the ball, right?" the older woman asked, pacing around the room, to which the blonde nodded awkwardly. "Perfect!" she purred, pulling out a wand.
"What are you—Ow!" Deidara was hit on the head with the wooden object.
"Shush." The fairy godmother raised her arms and gave the wand a flick.
In a sparkle of dancing light Deidara's ragged clothing was replaced with an elegant gown, and over her face was a pale white mask.
"There," the plump woman smiled warmly, brushing the young girl's fringe out of the way. "That seems more appropriate for a ball, doesn't it? Now, I can get you to the ball, but at twelve 'o clock midnight the spell will be broken and you'll find yourself back here. Now off you go."
"So now Dei-chan's at the ball?" the child asked.
Konan only replied by trying her hardest to hold back her laughter at the honorific. It didn't work out the way she planned, and confused the boy by chuckling.
Deidara found out that the palace was difficult to maneuver inside unless familiar with the outside world.
"Miss?" a voice called.
"Yea—Yes?" Deidara caught herself, trying to act polite, despite the preceding events.
"Are you lost?" the man was regally dressed, with a mask covering his entire face, save for one eye. What an awkward design, but it certainly held people's attentions.
"I'm sorry, but…who are you?"
"You act as if you've never been outside your home in years."
Deidara tittered nervously. "Y-yeah. Funny."
The man offered his right hand, using the left to muss up is hair a bit. "Come on, follow me."
Deidara took the man's hand, wondering who he was, since he never answered the question.
"Would you care to dance?" he asked straightforward.
"Uh…Sure?"
They danced the night away, in their own world, when suddenly—
"Konan! Hidan's bitching about that kid, un. Where is—What are you doing?" Deidara came into Konan's room, noticing the book on Konan's bed and the boy next to her.
"Hi, Deidara!" Konan said, pushing the boy off her bed and onto the cold floor. "He's right here."
"Deidara?" the boy echoed, looking at the pyrotechnition in confusion.
"Hey! It's the drag queen from the story!"