In this slight twisting of the Naruto Universe, all of the Akatsuki pairs share a house – more like a large compound consisting of three buildings: their own separate 'house' on each side and a communal sort of area in the middle (e.g. kitchen, bathroom (a luxury one – sort of like a hotspring)). These compounds are scattered over the nations in many different places and are, of course, hidden.

Sasori may seem to adopt a slightly misogynistic tone at times during this fic as canonically he seems to hate the female gender. Rest assured that I am a feminist and do not condone his world view at all, let alone tolerate it. Deidara couldn't give a fuck what gender you are (he's probs pansexual too – let's be honest).

Chapter 1: The Fallout

"Dance, fucker, dance!"

Sasori rolled his eyes at Deidara's latest annoying mid-fight expression. His expletive vocabulary had been fairly low when he had first joined the Akatsuki. But ever since Hidan had joined their band of merry men (plus that strange woman Konan), well…things had never been the same. Or quiet.

As to which 'fucker' Deidara was making 'dance' well, after a particularly boring assassination the two S-Rank shinobi had stumbled across a rogue band of Iwagakure nin consisting of one jounin and three eager chuunin. The jounin was particularly annoying in that her lava release jutsu just seemed to spread everywhere. Like one of Deidara's stupid explosions.

Wooden puppets and extremely hot flame-mud did not mix. At all.

The chuunin had been fairly easy to pick off, and had dropped like flies. No pun intended considering the form of sculpture Deidara had chosen to set off at the base of their spines.

So far Sasori had merely stood back as Deidara toyed with the so-called ninja team. Their efforts had been laughable to say the least. Hell, Sasori had nearly cracked a smile when Deidara had cracked their spines.

Speaking of smiling, Deidara had not wiped that infuriatingly superior grin off of his sun-burnt cheeks since they had stumbled across the lackluster shinobi. His laughing was obnoxiously loud and Sasori did not hide his scowl. Fighting could be fun…but these were just chuunin and a silly old jounin. Deidara couldn't really be getting off on this could he?

Suddenly, the earth beneath Hiruko began to shake violently and a large wall of lava erupted in front of Sasori, blocking Deidara from his view. Sasori leapt back in surprise and landed on a looming branch overhead to get a better view. Huh. That jounin had at least one good jutsu up her sleeve afterall.

The jounin was now angrily pacing on the forest floor, likely looking for Deidara who had disappeared. Sasori quickly spotted his young partner, who was lying spread-eagled on a wide branch and panting. A shot of panic ran through his system.

Sasori, quite involuntarily, found himself launching out of the protective shell that was his battle-puppet Hiruko and making his way towards his partner, his heartbeat quickening. Deidara had managed to clamber to his feet and was wobbling slightly, a hefty sculpture in one hand.

But Sasori did not care. He wanted Deidara as far away from that awful jounin as soon as possible. The boy had nearly been knocked out. Sasori's stomach cable lashed out, flying through the air and wrenched Deidara off of the branch forcibly by his ankle. Deidara yelped in anger and confusion as he was thrown back violently, the cable launching him through the air. The sculpture was lost and exploded uselessly in the air.

Finally the cable let go, sending the young Akatsuki member hurtling straight towards Sasori. The puppet-master blinked twice and was sent tumbling backwards as Deidara's weight hit him squarely in the chest. The two went sprawling into the dirt, kicking up large clouds of dust.

Panic erupted through Sasori's chest and he scrambled through the leaf litter to get to his partner who was lying motionless on the forest floor.

Deidara's head had fallen back limply against the burnt soil, his cobalt eyes frighteningly wide in utter shock. Sasori peered down at his ward, finding him completely unresponsive, with only the occasional whimper of pain sounding from his lips. Sasori clasped Deidara's cheek with his hand, his teal nails scratching slightly at Deidara's pale skin as he moved Deidara's face roughly from side to side. Sasori frowned at the lack of reaction, his brown eyes seeming to flash in anger.

"You assholes done yet?"

The puppet master's head swiveled frighteningly fast to face the lava-release nin jeering at the two Akatsuki members sprawled in the dirt. A vast and intense anger settled over the puppet master making his vision haze, but he wasn't quite sure why. The lava nin seemed rather pathetic and hadn't even scratched either of them.

"Not at all. But you shouldn't be surprised to know that we Akatsuki can multitask. I can administer medical attention and deal with your pathetic ass at the same time."

Sasori's tone was dull, but internally he was positively seething. He couldn't wait to splatter this woman's innards all over the surrounds. The woman's expression twisted angrily and she began to make rapid hand signs. Sasori rolled his eyes. This was going to be too easy. Battles weren't fun anymore.

Sasori loomed over Deidara and allowed his 'wings' to unfurl from his back, shredding his Akatsuki cloak in to pieces in the process. Sasori grimaced; Kakuzu would not be pleased. The cloaks were not easy to make and were made from expensive materials. Money, money, money. The blades began to whirr rapidly, forming a shield of sorts as the lava-release jutsu bombarded them unrelentingly.

Sasori turned his attention back to Deidara who was coming to.

"What hurts?" Sasori ventured coolly, ignoring the searing heat that was beginning to scorch his wooden frame.

Deidara groaned and clutched his head dramatically, "Everything."

"You're going to have to be more specific."

Deidara scowled, "I meant what I said. Plus, I think my ankle is broken – wait, why's it so hot?"

Sasori inclined his head to see the nin still throwing magnificent fire blasts at them. Her expression was utterly furious and it made Sasori want to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. Honestly, who the hell did she think she was, attacking not one but two Akatsuki members?

"Don't pretend I'm not here you bastards! You'll pay for what you did to my team!"

Deidara's brow furrowed, "That nin is still alive?"

Sasori clutched the bridge of his nose and sighed angrily. He made a familiar hand movement and the shouts quickly stopped. Sasori didn't need to look over his shoulder to know that Hiruko had impaled her through the chest and sliced upwards smoothly, sending little bits of woman scattering everywhere. Sasori smiled at the image in his head and decided to turn around anyway to enjoy it.

"I can multi-task."

Deidara slowly rose to his feet, wobbling visibly as he regained his footing. His loud cursing gave Sasori cause to turn back around. It appeared the brat's ankle was broken. Deidara focused an intense and angry stare at Sasori and shoved him roughly.

"Speaking of multitasking, what the fuck was that? I had the situation under control! Why the hell did you throw me from that tree, danna?"

Sasori found himself quite speechless, eyes widening at Deidara's rampant verbal tirade and physical move against his master.

"I-I-"

Meanwhile, Deidara was fuming. His voice seemed to increase in volume as his anger became more apparent.

"What? Do you think I can't handle myself, Sasori? I'm not a child anymore! I can undertake these missions! I don't see what your problem is either, we've done this shit a million times before and I've never let you down!"

Sasori's patience had worn down. Probably not a new record, but impressive for the amount of time he'd pushed himself to put up with Deidara's obnoxious ranting.

"I don't have to explain my actions to you of all people. You just accept them and carry on, so shut your mouth, brat. Remember who you're speaking to, I'm not your friend, I'm your superior."

"Superior my ass. You can't even trust me to finish the job you puppet fucker."

Sasori's drab eyes widened quite involuntarily and he felt a sharp blow strike his ego and his sense of seniority over Deidara. Deidara, who had never talked to him like that before, not even during their more heated debates – the young man had never resorted to such demeaning name-calling, at least not to his face. Sasori was more than used to the likes of Hidan referring to him with such vulgar terms but when Deidara said it…Sasori felt an overwhelming sense of betrayal.

Undoubtedly, a nerve had been struck within Sasori and before he could restrain himself, his hand flew out in front of him and connected powerfully with Deidara's face. Deidara stumbled back in shock clutching his face, his expression wounded.

"Don't ever talk to me like that again, brat."

Sasori distantly heard himself practically hissing at Deidara whose shoulders had crumpled and face was pale, save for the glaring red hand mark upon his cheek. The puppet master quelled any sickly feeling that arose within him at the sight of the mark, but felt something akin to nausea despite his best efforts.

The flight back to their compound was eerily quiet and Sasori found himself staring blankly ahead at the open sky, through the eyes of Hiruko, as the fantastic clay bird soared happily amongst the clouds. However, its creator was seemingly less so, as he huddled with his chin resting on his knees as he sat atop his own bizarre clay beast. Sasori couldn't help his wandering gaze as the overwhelming sense of nausea continued to eat away at him, causing his chest cavity to seemingly sit uncomfortably within his wooden frame despite his lack of sensation. He was glad of the isolation that his carapace Hiruko lended to him, he wasn't sure he wanted to deal with Deidara again so soon.

As soon as they had stepped foot into the high-walled courtyard of their compound, both of their rings began to grow warm. A projection appeared from Deidara's ring, and the figure stepped closer to them.

The corners of Pein's mouth lilted slightly as he greeted Deidara. Sasori frowned at the exchange, a slimy feeling working its way into his nerves. He was not sure whether he was jealous of how fond, thus blind, his superior was towards Deidara or whether it was something else entirely pervading his thoughts.

Sasori tapped his foot impatiently as the two began to talk casually about how the mission had gone. Finally, Pein took a step backwards.

Deidara barely managed to crack a smile and his teeth seemed to be firmly gritted together, "Thank you, Pein-sama. May I leave?"

Pein conceded, the figure from the ring flickered and disappeared. It appeared moments later, this time projected from Sasori's own ring and turned to face the puppet master. Sasori paid him no heed and unashamedly watched Deidara's retreating back instead; noting the stubborn limp and the way his golden hair tossed angrily in a hypnotic rhythm.

"Sasori."

Pein did not look pleased, but Sasori was far too angry to care. The stupid brat's explosive 'art' form not only pervaded his personality but his entire-fucking being too.

"What?" Sasori spat bitterly, fists clenching and unclenching at his knees as he sulked inside his carapace.

"What happened? Apparently you completely jeopardized the mission and your partner. I know that Deidara likes to exaggerate but he certainly would not lie to me."

Sasori scowled. Hiruko's face, luckily, did not follow suit.

"Nothing. I was just distracted and naturally the brat likes to overreact to everything."

Pein's frown did not leave his frightentingly pale face, but lingered, boring into Hiruko's eye sockets, thus Sasori's eye sockets. Sasori supposed that his skin was meant to be crawling, but such sensation would not overtake him in his current state of being.

"Do not get distracted again, Sasori. This is out of character for you. I expect better results in the future."

Sasori knew what he meant. If he did not resolve this issue, Pein would simply place him with someone else. A massive bout of nausea hit him again, seemingly into his non-existent gut and Sasori's fingers twitched involuntarily, suddenly overcome by the need to bury his dead fingers into the abdomen of one of his victims and tear their guts out so very slowly. His dead fingers itched for his tools and he all but scuttled to his workshop as Pein's figure disappeared from view.

Sasori's hands were buried wrist deep in the now still abdomen of his latest material; two Kirigakure-nin that he had 'collected' a few days prior courtesy of a very tiresome 'scroll-fetch' errand. Chunks of muscle and organs were painted up and down his pale arms and he took pleasure from the squelching as his pallid fingers tightened around the swimming parts. The material had long since stopped screaming and writhing, having passed out after roughly ten minutes. It had been rather disappointing…most of the material he gathered usually passed out after twenty minutes.

Sasori closed his eyes and sighed deeply letting his fingers slide and brush over the slippery organs soothingly. Art was always an escape for him, from the shitty world he lived in. He let his hands trace his own face momentarily, to let the staining blood run down his pale face. The copper streaks ran rampantly down his cheeks and nose, trickling from his chin and onto the dusty floor.

Momentary imperfection, supposedly everything Sasori hated, but something that strangely made him feel alive. What better way to fight than ruthlessly and bloodily? Long, drawn out fights promised longer suffering and more blood like rain painting the earth with its beautiful auburn hues. But fights were still a momentary action, a mere ink splatter on the eternal scroll of time. What was this strange confliction?

Harsh laugher sounded. Brittle yet deranged. It was a faint sound, but Sasori's workshop was quiet, save for the breeze channeling through the window which resounded off of the many wooden limbs and severed parts adorning the ceiling, like a twisted wind-chime. The familiar sound pervaded Sasori's mind and his eyes snapped open and he let his hands fall from his face to clasp the desk. Reverberations of a likely exquisite clay sculpture erupting into a thousand filthy pieces sounded from over the complex, shattering the soothing silence. Sasori's hands mechanically released their hold of the table, leaving harsh indents behind and splintering both hands and wood.