Only Fitting
Author's Notes: Is anyone else stating to think that Deidara is completely and utterly fucked? I mean he's fighting Sasuke, who is one pf the main characters, and he's stating to get his butt kicked. According to a reliable source in the next couple of manga chapters Diedara starts to have flashbacks, and we all know what happens when you start to have flashbacks… well this is only a guess, but this is how I think it's gonna end. I'm anxious too see how Deidara and Sasuke's battle really ends though…
Art is fleeting, so it is only fitting that life should be too. Deidara had learned much about the world during his short stay and only one fact remained true. Nothing lasts forever.
It is human nature to try and prolong the inevitable. Sasori and Kakuzu were prime examples of this determination. Bodies of wood and stealing organs will only delay the end though, not prevent it. Nothing and no one can ever put a damper on the flow of time, it is impossible and foolish to try and do so.
Having excepted this truth as a part of his philosophy, Deidara embraced the fact openly that his life would end. He would simply create his art until he was unable too do so any more. However, he couldn't help but feel surprised that his demise had come so soon.
He could hear the footfalls coming; each one seemed to echo, reminding him that his art had failed. Slowly, out of the smoky haze two glowing coals drew closer to him.
There was nothing he could do; he was pinned, arms lying uselessly at his sides. Turing his head, he caught a glimpse of his tattered gory sleeve, but nothing below it. Perhaps his arms had been ripped off too, it was just as well.
The two shuriken that had previously been embedded in his flesh had severed many important nerve endings. Once the shuriken had sunken in, Deidara could hardly feel anything below his forearms, hand-mouths included. He was injured beyond repair this time.
The fire educed smoke was beginning to irritate his throat; obviously the blaze had been started by his own mines. The two crimson coals drew nearer; the rapidly rotating tomoe became clear. A darkened face soon accompanied the burning eyes, followed by the outline of a body with only one wing.
Deidara stared at the ghostlike figure as it formed out flame and ash before him. He looked past the altered appearance of the curse mark, trying to see the true person underneath. This truly was Itachi's younger brother, they were so similar, almost creepily so. Their eyes were the identical, in a figurative sense as well as a factual one All Deidara could see in those eyes was hate, although it was not fully directed at him. That bottled detestation was being saved for another; he was only in the way of the goal.
"It's seems that it is I who has clipped your wings…" The pitiless words fell from the Uchiha's lips.
Deidara couldn't help but give a faint smirk at the irony in the statement. The ashen face above him however, showed no emotion at the twist of events. Instead the younger Uchiha gave a simple flick of his hand, drawling Deidara's attention to the glittering sword that it possessed.
Deidara watched, the smirk still playing along his lips as the sword was raised. The Uchiha took a step forward and looked down unfeelingly at the broken artist. In the distance Deidara could have sworn he heard a young man screech "Sempai!' as the sword plunged down in a smooth beautiful arch.
"Bang."
The words whispered past Deidara's bruised lips before the sound of metal crushing bone erupted. The pointed blade had been thrush with such force it shattered the protective rib guarding the artist heart.
There was no movement from the artist, he simply lay very still. Slowly, the lively glint in his eye faded. The bright cerulean iris dulled to a cold blue-grey. Gradually, the red blinking light on his mechanical camera dimmed to a stop.
Art was fleeting, so it is only fitting that life should be too…