AN: How Sasori and Deidara first met. Something light and kind of fluff-y. Nothing to do with the fairy tale. This was posted way back last year, I deleted it before. I changed it a bit and here it is again but it seems like an amateur attempt (this was my first fanfic with over 1,000 words and I think I improved a bit after this).
The look on the blonde kid's face had been priceless. How much arrogance he showed, was also how much embarrassment he suffered after his defeat from Itachi. His face went from downright awe – gaping at Itachi like he saw God himself – to an expression of utter unacceptance of his loss. To Sasori, it was the brat's fault for being so eager to show off.
They argue before they even know each other's names.
"So your art was no good against Itachi, huh," Sasori said through Hiruko's mouth, his container puppet. He didn't hide the sneer and mocking in his voice.
"That was only once, and it was the first time. My art will surely win, soon. And what would an old man like you know about art, eh?" the boy asked, now grinning, arms crossed over his chest and looking down at Sasori. He appeared full of himself again.
"You call those cheap explosions art? True art lies... in things that last for eternity. Eternal beauty – that's art," Sasori said slowly, as if to make it clearer to enlighten this ignorant, wanna-be pyromaniac who called himself an artist.
"Where the hell did you get that idea? Nothing lasts forever."
"You just haven't seen my art," Sasori said in a teasing tone. The boy took it as a mock and glared down at him.
"Your art? Who are you anyway? Then show it!" the blonde shouted. His mood shifted from casual arrogance to fury.
"You don't deserve to see. I'm Sasori, from Suna."
"I guess they suck, that's why you won't show me," Deidara said, then his one visible eye widened in surprise and slight fear. He only recognized the name. "Sasori? Akasuna no Sasori? You must be kidding."
Sasori nodded, and asked, "How would you know about that name?"
"I've heard about you, in boring History classes back in the academy, the brief time I was there. I never had taste for silly puppet shows, anyway."
"So they talk about me in schools now? How flattering, considering you haven't even heard of the sharingan," Sasori said, sarcastic.
"I'll prove you wrong," Deidara said, pissed again at the mention of the Uchiha's eyes. Deidara was about to hurl a clay figure at him, but a sudden burst of static lightning left it broken in pieces, burnt and useless. A long jointed metal weapon hung in the air, which looked like it came straight out of Sasori's back.
"Don't even try, brat. Lighting-based techniques null your explosive clay. You shouldn't underestimate your enemies, you don't know what they keep in their sleeves. That? Too easy. Try harder."
"Stop calling me that. My name is not Brat, its Deidara!" he shouted as he threw out another handful of small clay spheres, but before they could transform to explosive spiders, there again was the crackle of lightning from the 'tail' attached to Sasori . His clay creatures were reduced to a mist of black ash. Deidara grinned, he inserted his hands in his pockets and was about to release his next surprise but he jolted and stopped when loud static interrupted his thoughts. It was the leader, speaking to their ears.
"Sasori, Deidara, your presence is needed at the sealing statue. Please proceed immediately. There is an emergency; we all need to be here." The message ended.
"Let's go. Don't make the leader wait," Sasori said to Deidara, who looked disappointed at their disrupted battle.
"Next time then, Master Sasori."
They had a bijuu to seal the next day. The brat, Deidara, had met with Pein and it looked like they were already getting along. Reluctance he initially had with the idea of joining them was gone with the leader's convincing. Deidara was now excited to be Akatsuki.
Akasuna no Sasori. The name is familiar. Deidara is reminded of long-ago History lectures in the academy about the Wars. It is said that Scorpion of the Red Sand was named thus, due to his exceptional efficiency in massacre during the last World War – spilling blood across the battlefields until all the land was stained red and sodden with it. It was quite a romantic, artistic title, befitting of legends and myths. That's why to Deidara, it felt surreal to be partnered with him. The whole Akatsuki thing still didn't sink in.
They didn't work together at first. A mission is assigned and one of them will do all the dirty work while the other waits and watches, eliminating other nuisances as much as possible to accomplish the main mission. It will be done by either of them. Sasori alone, or Deidara by himself. Never together. This set-up worked well, as fighting and planning together only end in arguments, and any topic of discussion will always end to that debate on art they can't stop talking about. Sasori won't back down, and neither will Deidara.
Deidara didn't actually like Sasori. Respect was easier. The only time Sasori complimented his skills (not the art) when he accomplished a mission, Deidara felt a satisfying thrill at finally being acknowledged as an equal. They were partners, after all.
There had been many missions. Deidara finds Sasori's fighting style really effortless – it only takes a flick of the metal tail to fling back the weapons aimed at them, and kill the same attackers who had thrown them in the same move. Whole crowds can lose consciousness from an unseen poison mist. Deidara looks at the hulking form of his partner and noticed something is odd about Sasori's deformity, like he's half-human, half-mechanical.
He was called a puppet-master, but Deidara had never seen him control a combat puppet. Then he realizes...
"Ah. Now I get it. You're inside that thing, and it's a puppet," Deidara said, pointing to the hunch on the other's back.
Sasori, now the 'container puppet' to Deidara, eyes him, metal tail poised in the air.
"So you figured it out only now."
"What's it's like inside?"
"Nothing much. It's easier to defend myself this way."
Deidara imagines a person reclining inside, legs and arms crossed, with only a hand lazily pulling on chakra strings to control the puppet container.
"Care to step out? I'm curious of what you really look like," Deidara said.
For a long time, the puppet didn't move. Deidara expected it to open somewhere and Sasori to reveal himself.
Instead:
"It's none of your concern," a new, different voice said. It was a smooth and young voice, so unlike the gruff tone he's used to hearing. The tail retreated back and disappeared under the cloak.
"Show yourself if you feel like it, then. Keeps you intriguing, Master," Deidara said, smiling.
It only makes Deidara wonder: If Sasori can fight that with that effortless manner while inside a puppet – what more is he capable of once his real self is revealed? He's hiding not out of weakness, and Deidara senses a more powerful force hidden underneath.
While walking through a forest after their recent mission, static fill their ears and it was another message from the Leader.
"The last two missions had been a success. I will not assign missions for a month or more. Deidara, lie low and don't explode anything for a while."
Deidara grins and answers, "Fine, Pein-danna."
"I'll contact both of you again soon," the leader says, then the static died.
"Where do you plan to go, Sasori-danna?"
"I'll go East. I'll use the time for the puppets."
"I guess we'll see each other soon, then. I'll head over South. Artists need alone time for inspiration after all, yeah?"
Sasori answered with a snort and a roll of his eyes. The puppet-container's eyes.
"Don't make a scene, brat," Sasori said as he walks to another direction. Deidara shapes a small clay owl on his palms, and it enlarges after a hand seal. He leaps to the clay bird and calls out a "Take care, danna!" to Sasori walking away. The bird flies up and Sasori glanced back at him briefly, but continued on his way.
He lands a few kilometers from a small civilian town, careful to fly the bird low to avoid being seen. He gets rid of the Akatsuki cloak and wears his old clothes from Iwa, wraps his hands in long bandage strips to conceal the mouths, removes the scope from his eye, and unties the slashed Iwagakure headband. He walks to the town.
It was small trading town which mainly accommodated travelling shinobi during their stops in long voyages. It seemed to be in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by expanses of forest and grassland. The town was almost empty of people due to the current Chuunin Exam tournaments hosted by Kumogakure, open to be watched by the public.
Most businesses are closed, stalls boarded up, the streets empty. It takes a while walking before he finds an inn open. He is greeted by a warm old lady who informs him most people are gone due to the events in Kumo.
"I'll be here for at least two weeks, ma'am. I'll be gone as soon as my teammates arrive, we're leaving for another country," Deidara said as he gave his best genin smile.
"Why aren't you in Kumogakure, too?"
"The fights are covered on TV, anyway. It's better to watch than wade through crowds," he tells the woman.
"Here's the key. There's a restaurant with cheap, tasty food still open in the next street, if you'd like to eat," the woman said, handing him the key.
"Thanks."
The lie about waiting for his teammates made him think of Kurotsuchi, Akatsuchi, even Oonoki. It's been long since he even thought about them, so focused he was during missions with Sasori. He tried to push it away from his thoughts by trying to think of what Sasori might be up to.
He stays in his room that afternoon, leafing through pictures in an encyclopedia of insects and animals, recreating them with his clay. He creates entirely new creatures from imagination. He spends hours on them, and the quiet made him focus better. By evening, a whole tabletop was already covered with tiny clay animals. Deidara heads out to eat. He finds the restaurant open with only a few people dining.
A week continues in this routine. He spends most of the day inside his room, shaping clay into other shapes and creating quiet, miniature fireworks. The few hours he's outside he spends only to buy things he needs, or to occasionally chat with the familiar women: the kind old lady who manages the inn, and the curious young cook on the place where he usually eats. They are friendly, but they mind their own business and don't ask him too much questions. A fine place for a bit of rest, but his hands had been itching for an explosion.
He eats lunch on the dining place as always, and decides to take a walk through the town. This time, there was no one around outside at all. He wears the Akatsuki hat to shield off the noon heat. He passes by stores with glass windows displaying mannequins without clothes, he walks by closed shops and restaurants. He hears the faint conversations of the few people inside homes, some TVs and radios on high-volume.
He walks far enough until he can't hear the sounds, and everything's back to silence. He turns to a corner and finds a small park lined with trees, and a kid's playground in the middle of it – with swings, monkey bars, and other structures he couldn't recall the names, now covered with more rust than pastel paint. No one's around anyway and I've never done this since kindergarten, he thinks, and decides to sit on the swing.
He grasps the chains holding the seat, and lets the pendulum swing take him back and forth through the air. He grins, thinking of what anyone who knows him as a missing-nin and sees him this way will say... but it's fun anyway. He stays that way, until the swing slows down to stop and his slippers are slowly scraping the ground. It's the only sound he can hear.
Another person appears on the left sidewalk, a fair red-haired boy walking. He's wearing civilian clothes and a dusty black cloak. He spares Deidara a glance and a faint smile. Deidara stares and looks back to watch as the other boy disappear after turning to another street.
At least I could've smiled back.
Come dinner, he tells the girl at the restaurant about what he saw.
"I saw a guy earlier... some pale redhead. Seen him around?" Deidara asks in between bites of fishball.
"Oh, the one with the slightly curly hair? Black cloak? Yes, he's been around quite some time. All I know is he's staying at the edge of town, near the forests. Some temporary business I don't know about," the girl said as she cooks over a frying pan.
"You've talked to him?"
"Not really. My boss just mentioned it, and he was around here earlier this morning when you weren't here..."
"For what?"
"I just saw him pass by."
"Just asking. It's weird seeing him when I was walking too long without anyone on the streets at all."
"Maybe you should just get out more. There are a lot of people around, most of them wander about after dinner."
"I'm busy creating stuff upstairs, that's all."
"You're always talking about those. You better show some to me before you leave. You spend most of your day making this mysterious art, it must be good."
"They are good, you'll see."
Deidara sees the boy again the next day, after roaming around the town after breakfast. He walks to a random street and sees the boy on the sidewalk, straddling a large wooden log. He's holding a hammer and chisel while hunching on whatever he's working on. Deidara stops, curious, and sits on the nearby bench where he can see the boy's profile.
The other turned looked at him, but otherwise kept quiet and continued. It looks like he was carving something on the wood.
Deidara only bought his Akatsuki hat and a can of Coke, which he cracks open and drinks while watching the other boy who didn't seem to be bothered.
You seem familiar... have we met before?, Deidara thinks to speak, but that would be too cliché. Watching how the boy's eyes focus and how the hands work with precise movements, there's something strange and calming about it.
"What's that for?" Deidara asks, breaking the silence. The boy turns to look at him.
"I'm carving a mask. Here," the boy shows him a wooden mask of a face perfectly rendered except for the holes in the eyes. The mask's mouth is carved in an exaggerated grin. The boy tries it on his own face, the mask's eye slits showing his dark amber-brown eyes.
"It's... nice," Deidara replies and almost added, it would be better if it exploded. He could not think of anything else to say. That voice... it feels as if he's heard it before, but can't recall where.
The guy doesn't answer, just sets the mask on the ground and proceeds to take a heavy axe to hack half the log off and break it to smaller blocks. It seemed that the wood cuts straight even with the slightest of force from his hands. Who would think arms to frail-looking can have power and grace like that... maybe a shinobi, too. He gathered a few blocks he can carry and stands up. He smiles at Deidara.
"I have to go," he said, and walked on. He didn't look back.
Deidara just stared, again, without some sort of reaction. Instead, he stayed on the bench and drinks what was left of his Coke, which wasn't cold anymore.
I should've said something more.
"An egg?!" the girl exclaims, looking at a clay egg in her hand like it was the most ridiculous thing she's seen for tonight.
"Wait for a minute, okay?" Deidara assures her.
The egg began to wiggle in her hand, and cracked. A small imitation of a dove made of white clay peered from broken clay eggshells, and slowly grew to the size of a normal dove reduced to smooth surface and clear lines. It pecked and scratched at her hand, then flew above her head in circles. It flew upwards to the night sky until it was invisible from sight.
"Katsu!"
There was the sound of an exploding firecracker, and hundreds of doves made of white light burst against the sky. They flew in all directions before disappearing; only leaving trails of smoke in their wake.
The girl stared and smiled at the sky. "That is so cool! I always see shinobi showing strange tricks here, but nothing like that," she said. A small crowd had gathered behind them to watch the fireworks. Deidara grinned, flattered at the attention, but he couldn't wait until the break was over, he missed fighting and real explosions. But this could do for now.
People began returning the next day. More stores and restaurants are now open, there are small crowds gathering in the streets. Deidara won't be around in the town for long, there's now a greater chance that he'll be recognized. His mind was only filled with thoughts of the boy even if he tries to focus on his clay. If I've seen him somewhere before, I sure as hell won't forget about him.
Come noon, the dining place was filled with people and conversation about the recent Chuunin exams. Deidara only half-listened as he ate lunch. They exchanged stories about techniques they haven't seen before. A girl that spits lava, a boy with ice shields for defence, shadows controlling opponents. Civilians sure are excited by these things.
The cook, the girl Deidara always talks to, is sitting on the next table in front of him and chatting with folks who just arrived from Kumo.
"There was this genin from Suna who used puppets. It's the first time I saw something like that. She just used chakra from her fingers to control it, but man, it was the puppet that looked like the star of the fight. She won," a man said, sounding excited.
"How'd she do it?" asked the girl, intrigued.
"I can't really explain because it was too fast. The puppet spit something that paralyzed the enemy. It's hard to describe. You should have been there."
"Well, shinobi can do all sorts of tricks with chakra... and I would have gone if the boss hadn't made me stay here."
"They still use puppets by a certain artist... What was the name again? Something with Scorpion Sand..." the man asked no one in particular. Deidara now decided to listen further, but no one answered the man.
"Akasuna no Sasori, you mean?"
That voice again. There was the boy again, sitting by himself on the table for four just next to Deidara's. He isn't wearing the cloak, just a normal shirt and shorts.
"Yes. That's the name. It's really fascinating, those puppets. What else do you know, kid?" the man asked conversationally.
"The puppets use paralyzing poison, if that's what you'd like to know. But last I heard, Sasori no longer belongs to Suna. I just think Suna better start creating their own puppets..."
"That's too bad. But his work is cool."
Most people around were already talking about other fighters, and it seemed it was only Deidara listening to this small dialogue. The man talking to the redhead was already laughing about another matter with the girl, and the other boy is back on staring at his glass of water.
More people gradually poured in, as Deidara finished his meal. Just as he stood up to leave, the boy he was watching transferred to his table. A family went in and claimed the large table where the boy was seating earlier. Deidara walked on, back to his room.
I should've stayed just a little... bit... longer. He knows about Sasori. I could tell him more.
Deidara was about to walk back to the inn, when he noticed the guy several steps in front of him. He quickened his pace, this may be his only chance.
"I knew it. You're shinobi too, right? I know about Sasori but I've never actually..."
The boy stopped and looked at him with an amused expression, like he knew something Deidara didn't. "You still don't get it, don't you, brat?" How he said brat sounded vaguely affectionate.
Realization dawned on Deidara, now recognizing the voice. "Danna!? Why didn't I think you were...!" Deidara grinned. Never had he been more surprised and giddy at the same time about a coincidence in his life.
"I thought you already figured that out when I spoke to you," Sasori said, annoyed.
"Well, I did think there was something suspiciously familiar about you... Where are you staying around here, danna?"
"Near the forests, north of this town."
"What's the business with the restaurant owner?"
"Another spy."
"You said you were going somewhere else."
"I did go East to pick up some things I needed. I was here first months ago. What's with that fireworks display? It's like you're announcing your presence."
"Did you like it? They should fear us anyway, not the other way around."
"Still."
"I only paid two weeks worth of room rent anyway, I'll find another place far enough soon."
"You can stay with me."
"Really?"
Sasori gave him a look that said What did I just say, moron without words. Deidara remembered how much Sasori was irritated with unnecessary questions.
"If you want to," Sasori said.
"I'd like to."
"So this is it. Neat place," Deidara's the first to speak after the long walk through the town to where the forest began. Hidden from the outside by the thick trees but not too deep in the woods, Sasori's home was a cozy-looking cabin. Hanging on the door was the same wooden mask he saw Sasori carving the other day. Sasori opened the door, revealing a single room of wide, sparse space save for the few furnishings: a table, one chair, a fireside, a shelf full of tools and scrolls. In the middle of the room was the puppet he thought was Sasori months ago, uncloaked and dismantled.
"That one's called Hiruko. I'm adding upgrades," Sasori explained.
"Jeez. They even have names. At least you can now talk to a real person while I'm around."
"He was human once. I turned him into a puppet."
Deidara winced.
The first thing he notices is the little house is empty of useful things. It was too clean. No beds, no food, not even a proper kitchen or shower. The only convenience was a faucet with clean running water in the backyard. He had to take a last trip to the town that night to buy enough things he needs for the remaining week of their stay before they get back on the job.
Deidara opened the door and peered in. He slammed the door closed and almost dropped everything he was carrying.
"What the goddamned hell..." he whispered to himself, confused.
What shocked him was the sight of a shirtless Sasori, sitting on the chair and detaching his own head. The door slowly opened again. "I was fixing myself," Sasori called out, still sitting with his head definitely on his neck, fingertips glowing with chakra strings that held the door open.
Deidara walked into the room, one eye looking warily at Sasori, observing the odd contraptions of his torso. The door closed. "This shouldn't come as a surprise," Sasori spoke. He removed his own arm and showed Deidara the short sword underneath connected to his elbow, shining and greased with purple poison. He sheathed it and the arm looked normal again.
"You turned your body into a puppet," Deidara said, sounding fascinated. "I thought it was some sort of jutsu, how you still look like that."
The few people who had seen what his actual body is had been scared, creeped out, and none of them lived to tell the tale. Deidara stepped closer to him, touched the prominent ball joints for his shoulders, and caressed his arms. Sasori didn't move from the chair.
"What's this for?" Deidara asked as he was about to touch the iron cable where the stomach should have been. It uncoiled quickly and the sharp stinger stabbed the air near Deidara's face. "Don't touch that. It's laced with poison," Sasori warned.
"Oh," was Deidara's answer, but still smiled, and Sasori let curious fingers wander on his chest. Sasori stilled as a warm palm pressed in front of his heart, and stayed there. "You're synthetic all over except here. I can kill you easily this way, right?" Deidara's tone was too soft for the threatening words, and his hand-tongue slowly licked at the symbol written over Sasori's only living part.
"Stop that."
"What?" asked Deidara, honestly unaware.
"Your hand is licking me."
"Oh? Sorry. I'm gonna show you something, too." Deidara removed his hand, and pushed aside the sleeve of his short yukata. Sasori's questioning eyebrow raised a notch higher; it looked like Deidara's about to undress. On Deidara's chest, a huge mouth surrounded by swirling black tattoos grinned, and stuck an impossibly large tongue out at him. It closed with a smile, and Deidara adjusted his shirt back.
"That's disgusting," was all Sasori could think to say.
"What you did to yourself would be disgusting to others too, Sasori-danna. I'll only use that for my last ultimate art."
"Blow yourself up?"
"How'd you guess?"
"You're predictably uncreative."
"Just as I know you did that in your vain wish to live forever. What a lame ideal for your lame art. If you want to last, I suggest you do something about that bulls-eye on your chest."
Sasori rolled his eyes, and put on a plain red shirt. He looked like any normal human.
"You don't have a bed here," Deidara remarked, looking at all the empty space in the room.
"I don't need sleep."
Deidara shaped a small block of clay on his palm, and with a hand seal created a decent-sized mattress he set in front of the fireplace. "Goodnight, danna," he said as he lied down and covered himself in a blanket. He quickly fell asleep.
Sasori designed this cabin as a small sanctuary to stay in between missions, a quiet place to concern himself with only creating art. The past weeks he had been working on his puppets until dawn, unaware of the passing hours. Deidara's presence however, made Sasori anxious. Every shift in the bed, even the breathing, was too loud in the silence and distracting him. The dim light from the small flickering flame of the fireplace cast Deidara's inconsistent shadows on the walls – Deidara, asleep with his hair down and wearing the exact same clothes when they first met.
Sasori had his own version of sleep, but he rarely does it. It was more like a meditation on letting his consciousness shut down. His heart functioned differently from a normal heart, though still organic – there was a turning perpetual motion machine to keep it working and beating indefinitely. The faint hum of turning valves has long drowned out the sound of his own heartbeats.
He set the screws and wrenches down. He stepped inside Hiruko again and locked himself in the comfortable darkness, letting his awareness turn off.
Sasori woke with a loud sound of heavy rainfall on a tin roof. The house was dark even if it's nearly noon. Deidara was already eating a steaming cup of instant ramen on the table. Sasori unlocked Hiruko and stepped out.
"Wanna eat?"
"I don't have to."
"How convenient for you, but I bought enough for us two. I'll eat all of it, then."
Silence passed.
"How was your old partner like?"
"Orochimaru? Well, we got along fine until he betrayed Akatsuki."
"Miss him?"
"No."
"Hate him?"
"Neither. But I'd defeat him given the chance. I will, eventually."
"Sasori."
"What?"
"Can we not talk about anything that has to do with Akatsuki until the break's over?"
"Fine. Three days left, anyway."
"Will you fight me? Let's settle the art thing once and for all."
"Not here, brat. Don't speak about it until the break is over, I'm sick of it."
"Okay. Sometimes I think you're the brat here, Sasori."
"I know another place that would make a decent battlefield, but I don't want to waste my art on you. How about after the next mission? I'd rather not let this house be exploded, Master Deidara," Sasori said while rolling his eyes, imitating Deidara in a mocking way.
"It's a deal."
End
