Deidara had spoken to Sasori's grandmother that winter night for no reason other than to taste that forbidden fruit. He knew of her connection with his partner, and he was curious about her. Sasori had spoken adamantly of his hate for the woman and banned Deidara from interacting with her in any way, but although Deidara had a particular respect for Sasori, he had no obligation to obey his orders mindlessly. He hadn't expected to see Chiyo wandering the forest by herself, far away from the deserts of Sunagakure, and he stopped when that flash of grey hair caught his eye. Slowly and on-guard (they were enemies, after all), he approached her.
Chiyo didn't attack Deidara immediately, which surprised him. Instead, she spoke to him. Her tone wasn't warm or loving, and she definitely didn't remind him of a kind old grandmother, but she talked rather than fought nonetheless.
"So, you are the partner of my grandson?"
Deidara nodded solemnly, staring at Chiyo appraisingly. He leaned against one snow-covered tree. The air around them was silent and crisp but for their breathing.
"It's really a shame, you know- both of you have wasted such talents on crime." Her face suddenly looked weary, like the woman bore the grievances of decades.
"It's necessary to further my art, old woman… hmm." Deidara responded smoothly. Though talking to Chiyo was beginning to unsettle him for reasons he couldn't quite pinpoint, he deliberately remained calm and cocky.
Chiyo chuckled. Her trembling voice betrayed her age as clearly as the wrinkles lining her skin. "'Old woman'? I guess I am. But you'll be lost by the time you reach my age if you continue on your path."
Deidara interrupted her before she could finish the last word. "I will never get old and wrinkly like you." He despised old people. "It's disgusting." The beauty of his skin and hair could never fade. He wouldn't leave the next generation with the memory of a vile, ugly representation of him. "My life will be fleeting, hmm. I'll die with a spark- an explosion so grand it will shake the nation, and my name will be remembered throughout the ages as the magnificent artist I am!" His plan had failed; he'd lost his cool at least somewhat. Deidara always grew particularly passionate when ranting about art.
"Selfish." Chiyo answered briefly, short and sweet. Her tone was reprimanding. "You'll destroy the lives of countless others to fulfill your goal…" She shook her head in disappointment. "You don't deserve this life."
Deidara slammed the woman by the throat against the nearest tree without thinking. A moment later, with a few twitches of Chiyo's fingers, Deidara was restrained by four wooden hands wrapped around his waist. "What's this, hmm? Do you want to die?" He strained to reach his right hand inside of his pocket, and its teeth bit off a handful of clay and began chewing it in preparation. One puppet's hand clenched around Deidara's, preventing him from opening it.
"You're my enemy. I should rightfully kill you." Chiyo approached Deidara slowly and suddenly planted a kiss on his forehead. Deidara was stunned by how gentle and sweet it was, and his heart thudded quickly in his chest.
"But in my old age, I've learned from young shinobi that sometimes kindness can work better than violence." She sighed deeply, tired again. In her youth, she'd killed many and was bitter, and she regretted that now. She embraced the younger man tightly. There was something in him that attracted her. He reminded her of her own youth.
But Chiyo reminded Deidara of the future he never wanted to have.
They departed from each other peacefully that day and Deidara was left with a mixture of feelings that had him reeling from confusion. She didn't remind him of a grandmother, but something else. Once, he'd crushed on a girl in his class; this was several years before, when he was a proud Iwagakure shinobi. The sensation was similar, but he denied it. That prospect was too ridiculous to even consider.