Author's Notes (Best not to be skipped):
I initially wanted to write the whole story through Deidara's perspective... NEVER AGAIN will I make such a MISTAKE! There was no way I could have written this that way.
I could have written 5 chapters of 2.000 each, at the very least; in the time it took me to "compose" this. Well, at least it's out of my list.
Make sure you read the third notice bellow! I don't write these things just for show! Also, I hope you have fun reading this...because I didn't have writing it!
Take Notice:
This is a dialog/narrative. And it was damn hard so cut me some slack!
This is a Pseudo- Yaoi (male x male).
I tried to write this in a way that it is up to your (the readers) imagination as to how to interpret the story and the bond. It can either be a bond of friendship or the bond that lovers have. It can even be the sort of (priceless, in my opinion) bond you form with the person you acknowledge as both your rival and your partner. It's up to YOU!
Disclaimer: I do NOT own the Anime or the Characters! This work is for entertaining purposes only; I obviously make no profit from this.
All rights go to the creator: Masashi Kishimoto.
The only thing(s) that I DO OWN are the Idea (behind the story), the little poems I composed and the story itself.
You, my friend(s), have been both informed and warned.
...
-In the fields he laid his body, taking his last breaths and feeling the breeze on his face.-
-He is now no more.-
...
Urgh...I'm not familiar with this kind of thing, un.
Well, I'm at the verge of dying anyway, it's not like I have anything to better to do. That Uchiha brat... bet I got him good, un.
But I didn't expect this... Really, that brat. Uchiha Itachi was supposed to die from my hand. It was going to be an explosion, un!
How annoying! Who thought of this anyway? Shit, I can't see anything.
I believe that's because there's nothing for you to see, hm.
...Wha-! Who the heck are you!?
I...I believe I am you. Or maybe, another you. Well, I might be another version of you. We have the same appearance and I guess we are both at the verge of death, I think, hm.
There's only one of me, un! I'm one of a kind! And so is my art, un!
Believe what you may. How did you die, hm?
Oi! Don't ignore me! Where are we anyway!?
What do you want me to do then? If you think I like having a double then you are mistaken, hm! Especially one so obnoxious and radical like you, hm!
... I believe we are in the astral field. A place outside reality and in-between life and death. It's the absolute nothing. Or everything, depending on how you look at it, hm.
All I see is white, white and oh! Look! White, un. And what's up with calling me obnoxious? Like you are one to talk! What's up with this annoying way of talking! If you're me then you are the boring me, un.
... Maybe. I...I'm dying from poisoning, you know, hm.
I don't give one explosion for your story, un!
...You are a bad listener.
YOU are a bad talker, un.
It's odd. I don't know you, but I've got this sense I should envy you. You must have had people around you. That they understood your art, hm.
HA!? No one understands my art! No one ever did, un! Only maybe Sasori no danna! But even then we always fought, un!
...Still, you are lucky. I never had anyone. Not even Candor-sama, hm.
...
-His eyes were dark. What was solitude if not a disease?-
-Eating away at your soul when you do not look.-
-Yet. Can two share one death?-
...
I was an angel you know? With my wings and all. But wasn't very good at my job. I liked explosions. I believed that briefness was what art was all about, hm.
Explosions are art, un! It's supposed to be short-lived! It makes a-
Katsu! Batsu! And then it disappears! Un! Hm!
I know. I know. When I first joined the order of the Angels, I was quite young, around fifteen. I had always had a passion for art, hm. But since no one would ever understand me or listen to me, I spent my days all alone. I wasn't a "prodigy" like a certain someone...Urgh how I hate him! Him and his hateful brother, hm!
Ah...
Oh, right. Well, I wasn't born a "prodigy" so when I wasn't training to rise through the ranks I was always improving my art, hm. The only positive thing about the training was that it improved my art, hm!
... AH! That's so great, un! So great that I don't care, un!
You think you're so clever, hm!? Well, what about you? What's your story? Hm.
Course' and my story is more interesting, un! I was a ninja in the Sand Village. Growing up I developed a passion for art and then... Um... Anyway, I left the village and joined Akatsuki around 16, un. There I met my danna, Sasori. At first I thought he was a real ugly fella. Even so, learning that I would be working with another artist made my day, un!
Woah, cool! So you were a kunoichi!? Can you disappear into thin air and stuff, hm?
Ha!? Oi! I'm a shinobi! Not a kunoichi- I'm not a girl! Why does everyone think I'm a girl? Sasori no danna thought that way when he first saw me as well, un!
What's the big difference? Your hair is longer than many girls! I was picked and harassed too. Even after they found out I was a guy it didn't make much difference in their actions, hm. Was he really such an ugly guy though, hm?
Externally, un. HA! Just remembering it! When I first saw his "real" form I whistle and said "and I thought I had to watch out for Itachi-san, un!"... It had kinda spilled out, un.
Hm... Is that so? My d-...My superior was a hotie too, hm. Candor-sama had crimson blue violet hair whereas his eyes were clear red. It was a striking combination, hm. He was also a bit taller than me and behaved like an old man.
Ah! Sasori did that too, un! He behaved like an old man, was a total creep and disliked flying with me, un!
You felt a kinship though.
Ha?
The way I see it, you two must have fought a lot and about everything, from whose art was superior to whether you were a natural blond... But even so, it must have been nice having someone like him by your side, hm.
...
-Likened it is to our history.-
-What a strange little thought.-
-That you would see this knot to be colourful instead of gray.-
...
Spot on, un! But, yeah, I guess it was nice...well, maybe not so much. He was kind of a wrinkly old guy, un.
My...Candor-sama was similar to this guy...I think, hm. But he wasn't any fun to be around.
When I had first entered the Order and was teased around for being so feminine, Candor-sama had come to my rescue. He took me under his wing, quite literally, and nurtured me, hm. Not only as a soldier but also as an artist. When it was officially decided that I would be working under him I was ecstatic, hm... It didn't last long.
I had viewed him as a patron, of some kind, and maybe a little bit as a friend. I had thought that, since he was an artist, we would be able to understand each other, hm. I respected his art, hm. But he couldn't have cared less about me. He was cold, cruel, narcissistic and an egoist. And in the end...he shot a poisonous arrow through my chest, hm.
And here I thought Sasori was wrinkly, un... Well, if I had gotten myself into some kind of mess don't think that he would help, un. He had told me clearly. I was out on my own if I got into trouble, un. By the way, why did he shoot you?
...Because my art threatened his. Well, someone else would say that he shot me because I blew up humans and killed some millions this way... But they would be wrong, hm. Though an angel, that was one thing we had in common. We didn't care about anything else other than our art, hm.
Candor-sama was this way too. My art basically summarized the human existence. It was brief and had an end. I just wanted it to make a "Batsu!" and then disappear, hm!
But his art...was the exact opposite, and contradicted the human life altogether. His art was basically saying that eternity equals art, hm. But as humans die...
Well... When my art was proving rightful, and with the excuse that I was a sociopath... he drove an arrow through my chest will looking me in the eyes, hm.
Sasori no danna, he was strong...Impatient, wrinkly, boring, but strong. His art was strong too. I... respected that, un.
I actually liked our conversations, well, fights, un. It was fun, un, fighting over whose art was better.
It felt good. It felt right. It felt...cosy. Like home. Like family, un.
Ever since I was small... There wasn't anyone else. No one else saw my art. Hmp, how annoying! Not one person out of all of them could understand true art!
He was the only one. Those few years we passed together. Killing, robbing, abducting, or whatever... It was nice, un. We might not have agreed on everything...er, nothing. But he respected my art, un.
Say, if you had the chance...would you like to him again?
I guess, dunno, un.
With my shitty luck...I bet he would be a chicken or something.
...
Funny how you sing the song of deceit.
Have you forgotten it's an illusion?
Like this, what is the reason of your smile?
...
«The End»
Afterword:
I actually like how this came out... I'm kind of semi-dictatoric/democratic when it comes to writing.
I initially loved dialogs; the problem arose when I had to mingle in settings, nature, observations and other stuff...
I want the reader to see some things the exact way I view them, and that's why I, sometimes, put much thought into detail. And that's one of the reasons I don't like dialogs.
On the other hand, I like the freedom dialogs present to both the writer and the reader. You imagine the reactions, faces and whatever through speech... And it kind of eliminates "third person" writer's voice and "third person omnipotent" writer's voice.
All in all, this was something new. On second thought...I quite fancy them. But that doesn't mean I will ever attempt to write another.
Please leave a comment/criticism, if you can!
