A brown-haired woman, with an obviously fake smile, smiled at the man before her.

"Ticket Sir?" The women leaned closer to him. Still only half awake, the red-haired male grunted and fumbled through his pockets to find his ticket. He caught the thin paper between his index and his middle fingers. His fingers then proceeded to slide his ticket onto the womans counter and began to walk. Pulling out one of his earphones, he sighed, God how I hate the women that work here. He watched the women lift his ticket and stamp it. She smiled again and handed it back to him, "Have a nice journey," he looked away instantly and let the metal bars rotate around him as he walked through the divider. He slightly ran when he noticed the time to be 13:08, I have two minutes, the crowds of people before him separated.

The platform came into view. Continuing to run slightly, he noticed the train only a few seconds away from the platform. He came to a halt when he stood directly on the yellow line. His breath hitched in his throat but soon returned to normal. He looked up at the train times on a virtual board a few metres away. 13:10 pm. He looked at his watch, 1:10. Correct. He took pleasure in knowing he was correct; correctly on time, correctly on platform and correctly on the right train.

In that moment the train sped past him, his hair becoming messier than it already was. He skimmed the train doors as they went by, searching for his section. Staring at the train in front of him, it came to a stop. Walking to the door directly in front of him, he smiled slightly when it was the correct door. Correct again. From so many train journeys he'd near enough mastered when the train would arrive and leave.

The man simply pressed a large, green-glowing button on the train door. With a loud crack, the door moved aside, allowing him to enter.

He glanced at his ticket once more, eyed the reservation number. 23. His eyes darted from seat to seat, finding his number. He almost smiled as he found it.

Sitting down, he placed his bag on the small oak-like table in front of him. He stared at his reflection in the window next to him, geez I look awful. His fingers swept through his hair and his palms rubbed his eyes.

He was glaring at the tracks passing out his window, metre by metre. Sudden glimpses of houses and fields came into view. The seats in front were old, tattered and deep purple with blue and black squares put randomly on its canvas. It was unnatural for him to miss a thing but somehow he managed not to notice another person on board.

"Is this seat taken, hm?"

"Hm?" The brown in his eyes caught the blue in the others. He stared lazily at the seat he was pointing to. He looked around the blonde at the rest of the train, empty. He sighed to himself, could you find no other seat? "No, go ahead" The blonde smiled at him and nodded in a 'thank you'. He looked at him through the reflection. The now seated blonde seemed oddly perfect, in a way, to him. You don't see many blondes in Suna. He's only ever seen this now seated man and Temari from the Sabaku family.

Gentle chattering made its way to his ears and he smirked slightly. As he turned to the blonde, he noticed that he was trying to speak to him. I'll give some credit, he actually tried.

"What's your name, hm?" The blonde leaned forward on the table between them. One elbow touched the surface, with his chin resting on his palm.

"It's impolite to ask for a name before you speak your own," He smiled slightly at the blondes smirk.

"Deidara, hm. Now I'll ask again, what's your name?" Deidara smiled at the red-heads stern look.

"Sasori, now I think about it, elbows on a table is also classed as rude, brat." He quickly removed his elbow from the table between them.

"Sorry, hm. I didn't know, "

"What's with the 'hm' after everything you say? It gets annoying fast, " Deidara clearly looked away with a hurt look, "And you didn't know a basic table manner, anyone would think you were born into a family of pigs," Something snapped inside of him. He didn't know what it was but Deidara felt an unknown anger towards him. The thought of his family being 'pigs' upset him slightly. Maybe it was he didn't know who they were or the fact he didn't know if he had any at all, "Anyway, brat, when's your stop? I'm getting off at Iwagakure,"

"I'm off at Iwagakure, hm," The blonde didn't stay mad for long. He never found himself angry for a long time.

"Hm? Is that so? What are you doing there?" Sasori found no reason why he was asking personal questions. It was something about the blonde that he wanted to get to know.

"I live there. I work in Suna and catch the train to work, hm. Actually, I think I've seen you many times catching this train. I assume you work in Iwa, hm? I also think you live in Suna. It's either that or you've seen me before and like to stalk me home everyday, hm" Sasori found himself slightly amused how accurate the blonde was. Of course apart from the last part. How had he not seen him before?

"You got most of it right, brat," He found himself smirking to himself.

"You'd look better if you smiled, not smirked, hm," Deidara realised what he'd said and hid his face. Sasori saw this and smiled.

"Thank you, you look better smiling too," He looked back out the window and the now appearing stony village, "We're here," Sasori stood up and began making his way to the nearest door, "I'll see you tomorrow right, brat?" Deidara quickly stood up and made his way to where Sasori was.

"Yes! I'll be here, hm," The train came to halt and the floor wobbled. There was a hiss and the doors in front of them opened. Iwagakure station level 3 awaited, "I'll be off first then, hm, see you tomorrow," Deidara left, waving at Sasori with his right hand. Sasori followed. Deidara, I've heard that name before. Where though.

-O-O-O-O-O-

Thank you for reading c:

This is supposed to be a one-shot but I really want to carry it on, I want to know if anyone would read the following chapters?