Impossible Love

Having made a lucky escape from the Konoha shinobi in the forest using his suicide clones, Deidara began to retreat to the cave where he left Sasori. The old woman and the pink haired girl that were left to fight his Akatsuki partner had regrouped with the rest of the enemy in the forest. That surely couldn't mean that the puppeteer was dead. It couldn't. He would never fall so easily to them. They had probably smashed through that ugly puppet's shell he was ever so fond of hiding in and presumed it was him while he got away. Sasori was too powerful and cunning to be killed by them… and too important to the blonde to die. Deidara cursed under his breath while leaping between branches, attempting to ignore the searing pain from losing both his arms. When did the puppet boy become so important to him?

They were nearly complete opposites. Deidara had hated the ex-Suna ninja at first, and refused to accept his views on what he called 'art'. He was ordered about and treated like dirt, as if Sasori thought he was better than him. Yet he still found himself drawn to the puppeteer. Regardless of his efforts to subdue his feelings for the boy they only served to strengthen them. He blamed his beautiful red hair and captivating red eyes. The way his fingers danced masterfully, and the puppets followed, to create a portrait of death almost made the explosive artist admire another style of art. Almost.

Sasori's dark obsession with puppetry drove him to begin to turn himself into a puppet. He was older than Deidara but due to his puppet body he maintained his youthful looks, supposedly not having aged a day since he abandoned his village. With each passing day Sasori lost more of his emotions and became more akin to the lifeless husks he controlled. The only remaining human part of his was his heart. Deidara feared the day his partner lost his humanity, the day Deidara lost his chance at love, the day Deidara lost his love.

Deidara understood that his feelings for Sasori would have to remain a closely guarded secret. If anybody within the Akatsuki were to find out he'd surely be kicked out the organisation for fears his emotions would jeopardise any missions he was sent on. He knew he had no choice. Besides that, the thought of admitting how he truly felt made him nervous and scared, which was very unlike the arrogant artist. The entire situation drove him mad all the time but he couldn't escape from it. He hoped that maybe, just maybe, when they had succeeded and it was all over he stood a chance at finally being able to reveal how he felt.

Upon reaching the site of the cave Deidara's heart sank and filled with worry. The cave had collapsed and the landscape was destroyed. His eyes scanned the rubble for any sign of his fellow artist, dreading what he might find. The remains of puppets lay everywhere, scattered and shattered. The Iwa terrorist could recognise some of Sasori's from the time they spent together. The scene didn't look good but the puppet master could still have escaped. He refused to give up hope… until he saw the hair.

His hair, that damned beautiful red hair. Deidara would have passed the three puppets that lay on the ground if it wasn't for the middle one's hair. It couldn't be. He took one step toward them before his body was overrun by shaking. It couldn't be. He tried to call out but the words caught in his throat. It couldn't be. Then he ran, stumbling over the mess only to fall to his knees before the puppets. It couldn't be. It couldn't be. It couldn't be.

Kneeling over his partner's dead body, tears filled Deidara's eyes and ran down his cheeks, then fell on to Sasori's face. The two puppets at either side had penetrated his heart with swords. Their swords were glazed with dried blood. The red haired puppet twitched its head to the side, turning to face Deidara with crimson eyes.

"Brat… no… Deida… ra…"

The boy struggled to speak as he slowly reached out toward the blonde with his free hand; the other had been detached at the elbow and replaced with a blade; one of his current body's many dangerous traps. The pyromaniac had expected the cold touch of a dead puppet but instead it was surprisingly warm and human like. As he closed his eyes to savour the touch he forgot for a moment that Sasori was more puppet than human. He wished he at least had arms to hold his love during his final moments, knowing that dreams of love and peace were insane to ninjas. Opening his eyes again he noticed the slightest hint of a smile upon the puppet's lips. Deidara's watery blue eyes gazed into Sasori's eyes, as he often did unintentionally. This time though, a human's eyes showing the slightest signs of emotion buried deep in those red pits stared back before his hand dropped and his eyes shut for the last time. Deidara wept over his lover's corpse.

Sasori had become his everything. He was prepared to dedicate his very being to his partner. He would have given his life just to let the boy live. He would have given his life just to share another moment with his fellow artist. There were so many things that Deidara would never have the chance to say now, things he just wanted to scream at the body in the hopes the corpse heard him. He would never be able to hold him or kiss his love. Even now he was robbed of the chance to hold him while he passed away. It was his fault that the puppet boy had died.

He drew the Nine-Tails Jinchuuriki and his sensei away from Sasori to protect him. He did that to save him the difficulty yet still he died. Would luring them all away have saved his life? He should have distracted them all while the puppeteer escaped with the Jinchuuriki of the One-Tail. That would have saved him. He'd still be alive. However Deidara knew if that had been the case he may have lost more than just his arms. If it meant that Sasori could still be alive though, the blonde would have been prepared to pay the price.

Rising slowly the blonde artist smirked and looked up at the sky.

"Art endures the test of time, hm? Art is an explosion! A single fleeting moment where life and death flicker! A grand spectacle that lasts seconds then fades to nothing!"

Deidara screamed at the top of his voice and laughed hysterically before glancing down at the stiches on his chest that concealed the mouth he would use for his final technique.

"I'll show you my ultimate art soon, so make sure you're watching! Although you won't be able to miss it, nobody will! I will become the greatest masterpiece and artist that this world has ever known!"

As the echoes of his laughter and screams fell to silence he knelt down beside Sasori. He leaned down delicately to press his lips gently against Sasori's forehead and whispered:

"Thank you master Sasori. We'll be reunited soon my love."