Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or any of the characters. D: Oh how I wish I did though...
Deidara would never cry at Sasori's death. Such emotion had fled him the moment he betrayed his village and joined a criminal organization; they were unnecessary. Tears showed weakness, vulnerability. Before Sasori departed, Deidara had someone to protect and watch over him. With his sheild gone, though, he would have to "suck it up and act like a man" as he was so many times chided to do.
Deidara would never grieve for Sasori.
The puppet master was probably happier now, down in the pits of hell. He was no longer troubled with such a bulky and hard body; a body that could deliver lethal blows, and at the same time, trail feather-light kisses along its lover's neck. These rare moments, though, were more often than not spoiled by the metallic clicking emitted from the mechanical joints. The clicking was a clock to Deidara, counting down the seconds before "eternity." There was no such thing as eternal beauty; Sasori had died a fool.
The one thing Deidara knew he could do was continue to spite him. Although an aching void had replaced where his heart had been, Deidara knew he could hold his mask well and keep on smiling that stupid smile Sasori detested so much. He would continue adding his casual "un" to his sentences and molding clay birds... which now filled the largest space of his room. Deidara wished that Sasori could see him now, pulling his own strings.
...and those of the possessions he had left behind.
Why should tears be shed for a puppet anyways? Aferall, the results were only broken toys.
A/N: Thank you for reading my first attempt at a fanfic. Constructive criticism is appreciated. Err... not sure what else to say. Haha... x)