lostmoonchild: Right, I really can't say where this story came from. I was just sitting at the computer and minding my own business when my muse grabbed my sketchbook and proceeded to beat me senseless with it while screaming, "Deidara and Sai, you idiot! Do it or you'll have such a bad case of writer's block that you'll be screaming in frustration!" Out of pure terror of writer's block, this story was created.
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto. Sorries.
Art
Art was their passion and if was also their weapons of choice. If a story was a confession for writers then art was a glimpse into their very souls. The world would not be so cruel as to deny others a way to look into an artist's soul.
Sai spoke no words as he stared at the blonde Akatsuki member that stood before him. If art was a glimpse into one's soul then the blonde had a loud and explosive soul. Those bits of art that turned into bombs had to be an indication of some kind.
What of his own art though? What kind of soul did his art reflect? For a moment Sai wondered if there was something wrong with him not knowing. Everyone else seemed to know who they were so was there something wrong with him not knowing what kind of soul he was?
The raven jumped back as the blonde's explosive creations flew towards him. Pulling out his scroll, Sai quickly scribbled a creation of his own to counteract the blonde's. He wouldn't let himself be killed or maimed by clay. That would possibly be more embarrassing than getting killed by a puppet.
Then again there probably were shinobi better than himself that had been killed by either one. He knew full well that there were shinobi that had been killed by his own ink creations. That alone could be embarrassing.
While his creations were made of ink, Sai knew that they were no less deadly. Clay and ink would eventually run out but he was fairly certain that ink would run out long after clay. Unlike clay, ink could be spread thinly over any given area.
As they danced around each other, they threw at each over bits of art and sometimes kunai. Ink splattered across the blonde's clothes and dried on the pale shinobi's fingers. Deidara's explosive bits of art charred Sai's clothes and lightly burned his skin, things he could easily handle with only a short amount of time.
How did this fight between artists even begin? Sai couldn't quite recall although he had the sneaking suspicion that art was the ultimate reason they fought. Never mind that he was one of those that wanted to kill everybody. There was just something that spoke to him. Something that he was certain no one had ever felt before.
The blonde's ideas regarding art was surely different. How could he possibly hope to understand the prideful Akatsuki member? There must have been a way but he couldn't be sure of what it was. All he could be certain of was that he needed to remain focused at all times no matter what.
When did they begin to touch each other during their fights? He didn't know and it was bothering him when his heart suddenly began to race against his chest. Who could he ask regarding this matter? Every book he ever tried to consult regarding the subject claimed that it was possibly a sign of attraction or infatuation but this couldn't possibly either one.
What was it?
During their fights he watched the other man's body for the same signs. Clearly he wasn't the only one that was attracted and being affected in the same manner. There were subtle hints that the blond wanted to keep hidden from him.
Nothing could hide from an artist's eyes.
It was their art, he realized, that spoke for them. Their art was how they communicated their desires for each other and that their hands to hand fights were nothing more than small shows of dominance. In a sense he supposed that it was also a fight to defend their pride.
Sai wanted to pretend that he didn't understand and artist's pride. Due to the fact that he was an artist himself, he couldn't honestly say that he didn't agree. After all, he was proud of the bits of art he did on his own and didn't want to hesitate showing another artist what he could do.
If he could appreciate the destructive and temporary quality that Deidara's own hand could produce with clay then surely the blonde could appreciate the quality that he made with ink. They may have been different materials but he was fairly certain that the blonde was capable of understanding the beauty.
"Shit!"
Sai glanced at the blonde, staring at the ink that was splattered across his cheek and hair. There was a look of absolute fury on Deidara's face that send chills down Sai's spine. Distantly he wondered how it was possible for anybody to look better with that amount of fury etched into their features.
Perhaps some people just looked better than others when experiencing certain emotions. In all honestly it was more of an observation than anything else. Surely no one could be upset at a mere observation.
Then again, there was Sakura. She always seemed to get upset at whatever he observed about her. Maybe it didn't help that he was drawing attention to things that should not have been mentioned.
Her monthly cycle, he supposed, was one of them. After Sakura had gotten finished beating him into a bloody pulp, Kakashi had pulled him to the side and patiently explained that nobody other than other women discussed that topic and they usually chose to discuss it in private.
Men were just unwelcome into that subject unless it came to being forced to purchase their products for that particular event. Other than that, they were just left alone and never meant to discuss it.
Now that he thought about it, he was grateful to be a guy.
Time passed by and their fights increased to near lethality. He couldn't say why his heart had stopped racing against his chest though Sai supposed that it was nothing more than a passing attraction.
When Sai found the blonde in his apartment, he knew that what he felt just hadn't passed. It had increased without him knowing it.
As their lips met for the first time, his heart nearly stopped with his breathing. The whole world meant nothing to him anymore. His "passing fancy" had changed from one thing to a completely different thing. One that he had read about before but had never experienced before. "Why?" Sai asked softly when they parted for air.
Deidara didn't say anything before answering, "It was our art."
To any other his words would have made no sense. Sai couldn't help but see the uncertainty behind the blonde's visible eye. Would he understand the blonde's meaning or would he completely miss it? The blonde didn't know either so he just said the one thing that made sense.
Their art, so different and yet so alike, had brought them together. They had fought as enemies with the will to show off their materials and they came together with a single thing in common. That they knew would forever speak to them and that the world couldn't take away from them.
The one thing that held them, that the world couldn't take away, was so precious to them that neither could survive without it.
It was their art.
lostmoonchild: Now that my muse has finished beating me with my sketchbook, it's taken to going at me with everything else. Since I'm tired (didn't get more than four or five hours sleep), I'm going to go take a nap. Read and review, flames will be accepted.