Disclaimer: The characters are not my own.

This is a story on life after death. I do not state whether or not the place is heaven, hell, or just a void. The setting just is.
I tried to keep the character personalities straight, but this is a fanfic. In this setting, people will note that some things are restored. That was done on purpose.
SasorixDeidara ahead. If you don't like yaoi, feel free to click the back button. I won't tell.

Hitogoroshi

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There was always a chance for change. The time frame was small, more like a hidden opening than a real doorway. I couldn't see the importance of my actions. I still denied that I regretted anything I did. I could not grieve over those I watched die. I could not pity those I watched live. Regret and guilt meant nothing.

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I fell. I fell through a void with such an endless darkness that I felt as if my eyes had just been forced shut. No matter how many times my eyes tried to penetrate the darkness, I could not. I kept my emotionless veneer, even as that seed of worry rooted into utter fear. I was still a shinobi, wherever I had gone.

White light began to form beneath me, and I wondered if I would die upon impact. As soon as I thought that, I remembered. I had already died—I had been murdered by that Konoha kunoichi and the old hag. I was no good to anyone, so my wooden body could shatter. I would go on, somewhere. My art was eternal.

When the darkness was completely engulfed in the white light, I came to rest on solid ground. I was in a lush field, and I could actually feel the grass beneath my palms. I opened my cloak, but my heart was not visible. I was human again. I lived and breathed, and yet I was still a work of art, wasn't I? Was a memory enough to keep my former self? Was it enough to last for eternity? I knew that it was.

My eyes were weary as I glanced about the field. I had a feeling that I would be within that new world forever. I lacked my Akatsuki ring. It was a clear sign that I had passed on. I had never removed the ring.

I looked up at the sound of footsteps. It was Deidara. His teal eyes, more blue than green, settled on me. My mahogany eyes met his. A smile graced his face—it mocked me, as he often chose to do. I knew he wasn't real, but I didn't say anything. He was there for a reason, and I wanted him to remain there, even if he was just a mirage.

Things had always been chaotic between the two of us, but I enjoyed it. I thrived on our constant bickering. Even though he annoyed me with his differing opinion on art, I respected his clay creations—his loud, destructive explosions. I had never told him in life, and I did not plan on telling him in death.

He rambled on and on about how I had died, and how his opinion on art was true. I did not speak to him. Usually, we would be at each other's throats. He would be threatening to use his art to kill me, and I would be threatening to use my puppets to kill him. That time, I did not want to threaten Deidara. I wanted to listen to his voice, even if he was spurting nonsense.

When I assumed he would continue his ranting for eternity, he began to disappear. My eyes widened as I tried to grab his cloak. I did not want to be alone, not in that endless field. I respected him more than he would ever know. And he would never know, because my grip was not enough to keep him there. My blonde-haired partner was gone.

Though I had once been known as Akasuna no Sasori, it brought me no more pride than the jeers I received as a parentless child. I had struck fear into the hearts of many, but I did not even have enough strength to control my own life. If I was such a great criminal, why had I gone to Akatsuki? The reasons for my past decision were lost in time.

The sky overhead remained partly cloudy. The grass remained the bright shade of green that only young vegetation seemed to hold. The flowers would bloom forever. What was I doing there? I had killed people. My hands had been bathed in the blood of children. Why didn't the very ground I sat upon recoil at my filth?

It didn't matter to me, for what was a puppet master without his puppets? Deidara had once called me Sasori-danna—Master Sasori. What did I rule over in that eternal place? I could not be a master of the vegetation. I couldn't even master the ability to control myself. I was stuck in a place that needed no such titles. I was no master at all.

Hours could have passed. Days could have blossomed and died. Everything there was constant. I wanted to speak, but I had nothing to say. I had no one to listen. No other shinobi had appeared on that plane, and I wondered if the nice surroundings served to throw me off track. Perhaps I was in hell. I would suffer for my crimes for all eternity. I would exist in a place that was my embodied definition of art.

"Art is something that endures the test of time beautifully and gracefully.

True art is eternal beauty."

And it was beautiful.

I hallucinated. I relived my moment of passing over and over again. My heart seemed to skip a beat every single time that it was pierced. It was ironic how I had died in my parents' arms—Mother and Father.

I tried to figure out which Akatsuki member was sent to retrieve my corpse and my ring. I thought of Zetsu and his subordinate, Tobi. The thought of someone else having my ring made me feel emotions I hadn't felt since before I was a puppet. I felt unappreciated; insignificant. I wondered if someone truly would remember me. Would Deidara mourn the loss of his cross partner? I did not think he would.

My cheek felt cool suddenly, and I looked down as something hit the back of my hand. There was a droplet of water upon my flesh, and I knew that I had allowed a tear to escape. Being a puppet had saved me such emotional displays. Being a puppet was such a simple way to survive for eternity. Now, death was the easiest.

"Sasori-danna?" I turned my head at the sound of his voice. "Where are we, un?" Time had passed too quickly.

"You're dead, Deidara," I managed a reply.

How had he died? Why did no one else join me in that field? Akatsuki lost a pair of good members, how would that change their plans? And I knew then that it was stupid to think that Akatsuki had a change of plans. Akatsuki was a criminal organization, it would never cease its evil plotting. Death was a part of life, and Akatsuki had other members to pick up the burden.

"I killed him, Sasori-danna, un. I killed that Uchiha brat! He didn't appreciate my art! My beautiful creations...," Deidara trailed off and sat down beside me.

"Damn, even in death, you are annoying." I smiled as I spoke to him, and his angry retort was cut off.

He sprawled out on the grass. His beautiful eyes gazed up at the unchanging sky. Eternity without him would have had no meaning. What meaning did it hold with him?

"You must have been lonely, un. You shouldn't have let that kunoichi kill you. I had to have Tobi as my partner, un." Deidara sat up, and I picked a few stray pieces of grass from his hair.

"Sorry to disappoint you," I replied, overlooking Tobi's membership in the organization.

He gave me a quizzical look, and he touched my cheek. I could actually feel his hand upon my flesh. Why had I been graced with that feeling? I wanted to keep it that way. We would have each other as company. Eternal beauty.

"Are you really-?" I pressed my lips against his—he was so annoying sometimes.

Did a murderer deserve true happiness? Even though the blood could never be cleansed from my hands, I had managed a good ending. There was always a chance for change. Perhaps that long fall had finally allowed me to accept that.

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Author Rant

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This is a one-shot story that came to me while watching a youtube video. The centered italics in the middle of the story is a Sasori quote. Some sad stories need a little altering. I felt it was necessary to put some happiness on the sad ending the show gave.

Reviews are lovely!

Sayonara.

Note: Help stop plagiarism, but do it the right way. Don't harass.