"Cloud Nine"
00: Prologue
Warnings: Yaoi, Violence, LENGTH
Rating: M for Mature, just because I don't feel like changing it later, and my writing tends to insinuate constantly. Something between violence, aggression, touchy subject matter, and yaoi.
Summary: Hnn... what started as an attempt at drabbles became one continuous fic. The prologue (this) starts just after Orochimaru left Akatsuki, based on a recent discussion. Sorta wondered what it'd be like dealing with Deidara at such a young age. But yeah. The story will eventually contain nearly anything I can think of, mainly focuses on the comings and goings of Sasori and Deidara of the Akatsuki. Eventual SasoDei/DeiSaso, since it seems to flit back and forth with me.
Sasori and Deidara are partners within Akatsuki, for better or worse. Between the times in the lair and the air between missions, where do you go about learning of each other?
Disclaimer: I own nothing. That's prolly why it's called a FANfic.
-----
"My new partner is that thing?" Sasori ground out, not even bothering to glance at the figure across the room. "How do you expect me to get anything done if I have to babysit?!" It was dark in the leader of Akatsuki's chamber; the man had called Sasori to him to receive a new briefing. The S-ranked ninja had known he was in for a few changes when his previous partner, Orochimaru from Konohagakure, had defected from the organization. He had even considered the fact that Sir Leader would have him taking rather pointless assignments, or being stuck in the damn lair for longer than usual... but not this. Along with a new mission, Sir Leader was assigning a new partner to Sasori. How the hell the man managed to find people to join his little 'scouts' in the first place was beyond Sasori; his own initiation had been rough, but was now a distant memory. And even if he appeared to be nothing more than a whelp, Sasori had been already in his teens then. He had his doubts that this one had even reached puberty yet.
"Sasori, Sasori..." Sir Leader breathed, his silver eyes bearing down upon the small hunched up puppet body. "I'm sure you two will get along just fine. In the mean time, I'd appreciate it if you could do a little job for me..." His voice felt like a bucket of ice-water, or rather freshly liquefied metal, but Sasori could only hear the effect, not feel it. The strange aura that seemed to surround even the astral projection was enough to agitate him, but he remained blissfully unaware of the sickening physical side-affects the other members complained about frequently. And besides all that, he had been a member of Akatsuki for years; Sasori didn't see why the mere presence of a man's image should strike some sort of impure fear in him.
"Didn't you hear a thing I just said?" the man snapped, his eyes narrowing beyond view. "I'd get any job you give me taken care of faster if you'd just leave me be! Put him with Zetsu or... Kakuzu, or someone else for gods' sake!"
Shaking his head slowly, Sir Leader frowned. "Wouldn't do, I'm afraid. Zetsu's already got his hands full with a task. Of course, the previous person to wear this ring was in fact his partner, but he performs much better alone the things I assign him. And be as it may that Kakuzu has recently disposed of another of his partners, this one wouldn't last a day with him. Nothing in common, regrettably."
"Like that's hardly mattered before!" The puppeteer frowned inwardly. He had been wondering how it was that he was receiving a partner, when Orochimaru had run off with his ring, the ring of 'sky'. Zetsu's partner had the ring of 'blue' if he remembered correctly... Still, he couldn't be bothered to wonder just how Zetsu had lost his own partner. Regardless of how, it was the reason Sasori was now in his current predicament. "Tch..."
"My, my. I do believe I asked you to calm down, Sasori. You and Orochimaru had quite a few things in common I'm sure, but this experience should at least prove to be a bit more useful for you. Now about your assignment..."
The puppet-master frowned at being brushed off, but there was not much else he could do at this point. Sir Leader had said his fill about the whole thing and if he pushed the subject any further he was liable to be paired with Kakuzu himself. The small figure in question fidgeted incessantly, particularly coiling and fiddling with his hands as though he were extremely nervous about the whole matter. This is ridiculous, the puppet-master mused as Sir Leader went on about the mission. I'll just have to deal with it for now. He'll probably be dead after this anyway.
The briefing itself didn't take long, as it was in fact an easier mission than the ones Sasori had grown accustomed to; recently Sir Leader had explained that they needed to lay low a bit more. It made sense that Sasori would be the one to bear the brunt of such a change, between the loss of his partner and the induction of such a whelp into the ranks as a replacement. Inwardly the man wondered if Sir Leader intended him to become a sort of instructor to the kid. After all, he kept giving him that strange explanation of "something in common" throughout the lecture. Wasn't this the man who always said explanations and excuses were pointless? In any event, he was making a mockery of the puppet-master, from Sasori's own perspective. Inwardly he struggled with such a thick myriad of thoughts that he had hardly noticed the end of the meeting, or exiting the dark chamber. Only the sudden shock of light from a sconce set right outside the doorway brought Sasori out of his contemplation.
The walk down the corridor back to the sleeping chambers was what Sasori knew he'd regret making. As it was, he moved at a slow place from within his awkward shell, adding to the minutes that he would get to listen to his new 'partner'. He had hoped that the blond would remain silent, but it was immediately obvious that the kid wasn't that sort of person the moment they started moving.
"I'm not a kid you know, un." The protest was short, but the voice that said it had the weight of granite. "Well, compared to you old bats, maybe, but I can take care of my self. Is Sir Leader always like that? Seems a bit out there, yeah..."
Sasori twitched from within his shell; he had caught himself nearly answering the barrage of questions. Instead, he chose one for himself as he continued to shift down the long hall towards their living chambers. "What's your name?"
"Deidara, un!"
"All right, Deidara. Shut the fuck up already." He heard the sudden change in pace as the blond boy stopped in his tracks momentarily, staring hard at the stooped shell Sasori chose to hide away in. Ignoring the obvious sign that he had thrown off Deidara, Sasori continued to shuffle back to their chamber, basking in the relative silence. Almost instantly the blond began walking again, though this time he merely kept pace with the older man, quietly toying with his hands yet again. Somehow, this made the silence heavy; no matter how much the puppeteer expected Deidara to renew his efforts, the blond only seemed to withdraw deeper within himself, his focus on his hands unbroken. It remained like this all the way to their room.
Sasori opened the door silently, wide enough that his puppet shell could shuffle inside without getting caught; it was the only thing giving Deidara a chance to enter. Muttering incoherently to himself, the puppet-master sidled up to his workbench and remained there for the time being. Deidara glanced around the room, still enveloped in silence. On the opposite side of the small chamber lay a second bed, another table, a sconce and a few other objects. Folded neatly on the bed lay the boy's new wardrobe, the standard apparel of those ranked within Akatsuki. He made his way over, picked up the bundle and looked it over for a few minutes before placing it on his workbench. Zetsu must have brought it in here while we were out, Sasori considered, twitching slightly at the idea of the grass-nin inside of his quarters. At any rate, there was nothing particularly 'tasty' or 'palatable' for the cannibal to get his teeth into, thankfully.
"So... what are you doing now, un?" the blond asked, his voice much more level than before. This didn't keep it from annoying his partner, despite him obviously trying to listen. Fifteen minutes, he thought to himself. Sasori admittedly was unused to the company; ever since Orochimaru had defected, he had been left alone in the chamber. And while he may have utterly hated the leaf-nin, Sasori had at least appreciated the fact that the man left him alone. This blond was another story entirely.
"We have a mission in the morning, dipshit. It's called preparation," he responded readily without bothering to glance over at the boy.
"I'm all ready!" Deidara announced cheerfully, his visible eye closing as he grinned.
Now this was beyond even Sasori's thinking. "You're just bringing that little bag?" he demanded with a frown. He had spun where he stood to see the blond behind him sitting on the edge of Sasori's bed, legs splayed as he leaded forward to intently and – supposedly – discreetly observe the puppet-master working. The bag in question was clasped between both hands, small, simple, and probably not very deadly, as one couldn't even stick it over another's head in hopes of suffocating them. This wasn't to say that Sasori had thought to do such a thing to Deidara; he was certain he could think up something much more inventive, but it would also imply that he cared enough to do so, and he was having trouble wrapping his mind around that paradox currently.
Shrugging off the incredulous look his partner was giving him, Deidara laughed. "Yeah, it'll be enough, Sasori-danna, un."
The statement came forth so easily that Sasori completely forgot to yell at the boy for sitting on his bed. Stunned into a sort of blank fog inside his mind, the small man finally asked, "What did you just call me, gaki?" Had the blond been a better judge of character, or at the very least understood what Sasori's namesake was, he would have known that the nickname, as well as the strange grinding noise in the back of the words, was not that of affection.
"Sasori-danna, yeah! Sir Leader was saying that you're an artist of some kind, but all this stuff is pretty cool! I'm an artist too, so you're my danna, see?" Waving a hand to the works around the bench, Deidara nodded enthusiastically and put his hands back in his lap, still clutching his precious bag.
"Right. Because that makes perfect sense," Sasori muttered, though his interest had been piqued slightly. What sort of art is that dipshit talking about? he wondered to himself, glancing once more at the small bag Deidara fiddled with now and again. It was a bit unusual to be given such a nickname as well; the others found Sasori's art to be more than a bit... disturbing. At best, to Sir Leader, it was just another useful way of disposing of corpses, losing any meaning.
Fuck me... he's grinning again. Who the hell grins like that, anyway? Gaki looks like he just had a plate stuck in his mouth. "Where are you from, un?" Shit, kid, just because I looked at you doesn't mean you should open that fucking mouth of yours...
"...The Sand," Sasori admitted grudgingly, his eyes narrowing. It was times like this he wondered how dense people survived; he realized it must had something to do with the simple fact that the people who would get rid of them, like himself, were too stubborn to touch them. Albeit, Deidara was a kid, but any kid joining a group of S-rank criminals should at least have his defense tested anyway, right? He turned away yet again.
"Sunagakure..." the boy murmured, letting it sink in for a moment. "I'm from Iwagakure, yeah."
Letting loose a sigh, Sasori turned around once more to get a good look at his interrogator. "That sort of information is irrelevant at this point, isn't it, gaki?" I'm not getting any work done, at this rate.
A thin, nasty grin spread across the blonde's face as his eye glinted cheerfully. "Yeah, I guess so, un... How old are you?"
Sasori frowned for a moment. Between the questions and how many emotions Deidara could use that same damn grin for, he wondered if he was getting a migraine. "Twenty-five, if that means anything to you." He didn't feel like explaining it in much more detail, as it was unlikely the idiotic gaki would be able to comprehend it all in the first place.
The blond nodded, his hair momentarily obscuring his face. "Hmm... nine, I guess, yeah."
This admission got the puppeteer's attention. Stopping what he was doing, Sasori turned heavily around to stare at the peculiar blond before him. "What'd you say, gaki?"
"I'll be nine this year, I think, un!"
Sasori would have fallen to the ground in the shock that rolled over him had he not already been low to the ground in the first place. ...Nine? Gaki is nine?! What in fucking hell was Sir Leader thinking?! Wait... "How could you not know how old you are? Are you really that stupid?"
The scowl that found its way to the blonde's face was nothing short of elaborate. His nose scrunched up awkwardly and his mouth moved as though he was going to shout something particularly vulgar, but instead the boy simply stated, "My folks never told me when my birthday was, yeah. I just celebrate it when I feel like it, un... from what those old women in town were always complaining about, I decided I'm about eight!" Having jumped the first hurtle of emotion, Deidara seemed to regain his countenance and added, "It's not that bad, right? Sir Leader was telling me how this one guy is only two years older than me, and he joined a little while ago, yeah! And then that Sasori-danna was... uh... like a teenager when he came in, un!"
Sweatdropping, Sasori cursed inwardly, but caught the blonde's embarrassed flush. "You weren't paying attention, were you, gaki?" Grinning ruefully, Deidara shook his head. Well if it's a question of loyalty, best to start young and raise them, is that what you've been thinking the whole time, Sir Leader?
Sasori turned back to his workbench, choosing to step away from the conversation before the child thought he was actually interested in him. Sorting through his tools, the man attempted to finish preparing before he would be set upon with more pestering. Gaki's about the age to be entering a training facility, Sasori rationalized, knowing Iwagakure's timetable was similar to the other ninja villages. If Sir Leader took him in, it's safe to assume he's shown a high rate of potential and performance already. He may be pushing his luck with this one though. That Uchiha from Konohagakure was one thing... what does this gaki have to offer that Sir Leader would take his chances?
-----
Deidara glanced over to the other side of the room where the last sconce still burned, emitting just enough light to enable Sasori to continue on with his preparations. The blond continued to watch his so-called 'master' in this silence for a few more minutes before he finally worked up the nerve to speak again. "Danna?"
"I told you not to call me that," Sasori said flatly from his workbench. He had been aware of the blond watching him, or at least he had once the boy had begun to move under the sheets again.
"Yeah... un."
"Then why are you still doing it and what the hell are you bothering me for?"
"Uh... I don't sleep that well at night, un." Deidara sat up in his bed and sighed, his chest heaving.
Sasori frowned, catching himself before he accidentally jabbed a tool into a puppet's joint a bit too hard. His back was to the other occupant of the room, so it was unlikely the act of malice went noticed, but he couldn't help but wonder if it would have even made the boy be quiet. "Well then what the hell do you do?" he ground out carefully.
"I... I guess I can try... but I mean...hmm."
"Do that. If you need any assistance afterwards, I'll be sure to make it hurt." How the hell did an idiot like you find your way into Akatsuki...?
Even an hour after the boy had fallen asleep, the blonde's body squirmed uncomfortably beneath the sheets; to Sasori it sounded as loud as a thirty foot whale attempting to swim in the confines of his closet. Or give birth... the idea would have sent a shudder down his spine had it become too visual, but oddly enough the very thrashing that caused it also broke that train of thought.
Standing up, the puppet-master silently walked over to his partner's bed in the opposite corner of the small chamber. It felt a bit awkward, being outside of Hiruko, but he would not have been able to see the blond properly had he remained low to the ground. "Maa... I don't wanna, un..."
Sasori frowned at his new partner. If you get in my way today, I'll kill you myself. I already told Sir Leader I didn't need this. He continued to watch Deidara silently, wondering what he was dreaming of. What kind of criminal whimpers in his fucking sleep and chatters like a pest so freely? Sasori blinked, finding his hand outstretched, fingers gently twitching in hopes of gripping Deidara's neck.
"Tch." Turning quickly on his heel, Sasori felt a sudden need to be safe within the confines of his monstrous puppet. Even the sight of the sleeping blond made his displeasure rise – a feat that the puppet-master didn't think was possible.
-----
"Sasori-danna, move, un!" The puppet-master found himself hearing the words as though through a filter of some kind, his subconscious listening and responding for him. Within moments the entire platform that he had been standing on just seconds before became engulfed in a bright, fiery light and a deafening sound. An explosion, he realized quickly. Gaki just blew up this entire station, didn't he? Sasori thought as shrapnel began to fly past him. This... this thing that the blond had created... it was chaos. Pure chaos. There had been people still alive in there, hadn't there? Sure, anyone remotely near the targeted item was killed swiftly and silently, but what about everyone else? Though their lives didn't matter in the least, they were now all wiped out surely. In the fury of the blast, all he could make out was the way the entire air became frazzled, scorched. It was powerful. What little shrapnel was making its way past the initial radius to where he now stood, Sasori could see incinerating before his own eyes.
If that gaki hadn't said anything... but somehow, Sasori couldn't see that thought following through. He was more likely to have remained silent; Deidara was too talkative for that. At least, that was the impression he had given Sasori... but the insane cruelty performed in this large-scale demolition-slash-execution had begun to make him think otherwise. It wasn't until the blond had caught up with him in their withdrawal that Sasori fully realized what he was dealing with. Really, the man just wanted to be back within the familiar, back among his works at home within the lair; the blast had shaken him a great deal, but he wasn't about to let the boy know. He may have always said that he would be eternal, but the sight of such destruction so close to his body, so unearthly... it left him silent.
Deidara didn't want to let the uncomfortable silence persist however, as it was their first mission and the first time his partner had seen his work. After only a moment or two, the blond boy glanced to the large misshapen individual with a stretched grin. "So?"
"So what, gaki?" Sasori mentally willed his voice steady, thankful that his shell was able to hide how distraught he had become for a minute there. Now that they were away from that scene of carnage, of death, the scorpion felt much more at ease. He didn't take the time to consider that the blonde's persistent attitude had already become familiar to him, easing the tension... at any rate, it did give him a distraction and a method of venting.
Deidara sighed dramatically and shook his head, elaborating only barely, though it must have taken a great deal of effort, in Sasori's opinion. "So what did you think, un?" he inquired, his fingers teasing the string that held his little bag closed.
Sasori couldn't get a good look at the child from this side. That odd fringe of bangs was troublesome, the scorpion concluded moodily. So long as Deidara continued to walk on his right he wouldn't be able to see his expressions... but Sasori found himself abandoning that thought. Gaki only has two expressions anyway, that blank dumbass look and that fucking grin of his... "...I've already got a headache, dipshit. Ask the question right or don't ask at all."
"What'd you think of my art, yeah?"
Sasori's eyes grew momentarily. Art? It all fell into place now. The bag, the way the gaki had insisted on taking care of covering their tracks at the destination, that damn grin... and 'danna', Sasori thought with a frown. The kid was an explosives expert, from what he could tell. What that had to do with art was beyond his own comprehension. In any case, it meant that the loud, alarming thing that kid had caused was his specialty, his method of combat. Sasori grimaced inwardly, praying that his reaction was just an initial shock of the unknown. He wasn't sure what would happen, if it continued to plague him... I'd kill the gaki, he thought silently, knowing the truth.
As Sasori's thoughts raced around in his head, Deidara sighed and cast a thoughtful smirk to the sky, the dust and smoke from his explosion not present where they were now. His danna didn't seem like he would be giving him any further response, but it was fine for now. They would have other missions, right? And Deidara would have the chance to improve upon his work; an artist that allowed himself to stagnant was no artist at all, anyway. Snapping the puppeteer from his reverie, Deidara suddenly asked, "You want me to make sure we don't have any pursuers, hmm?"
"Doesn't matter." Everyone's been killed with that little hobby of yours... Sasori thought pensively, still too wrapped up in his mind to pay much attention to what the boy was saying.
Nodding, Deidara shoved his right hand back in his cloak for a moment, revealing a bag on his hip. Really, it seemed like there were two of those things strapped to a harness, which explained the odd-but-slight bulges at the boy's hips beneath the cloak. Watching him, Sasori wondered what the boy was up to now. Removing his hand from the pouch, it emerged folded tightly, his fingers kneading his palm for a moment. Satisfied, Deidara opened his hand to reveal a small, detailed clay bird. Lightly tossing it on the ground and raising his hand to his eye in a hand sign, Deidara grinned as the bird was engulfed in a cloud.
Sasori stared at what stood in its place; a much larger, moving clay bird. It was still the same squalid earthly color, sporting hollow eyes, large hooked feet and what he could only assume were flight-capable wings. All this from the same substance that Deidara carried on his person, in that bag... Clay explosives, he concluded. That's what the bags are. But why the sculpting? Truthfully it was more artistic than what his first impression gave him, as this sort of thing was far more favorable then the heat and intoxicating loud, caustic creations that the blond had previously introduced his partner to... but Sasori was unwilling to give in that much to Deidara's demands, calling such wanton, short-lived toys 'art'. Hopping onto the back of the monstrous creation, Deidara gave a small wave. "I'll be back, Sasori-danna, un," he said with a toothy grin as the bird rose to the air. Without a second word the boy was gone, vanishing in the night with only a soft buzzing of the wind in his wake to remind his partner that anyone had been beside him in the first place.
-----
"So this is where we're staying tonight, un?" Deidara had demanded, glancing around. "Not shabby, I guess, yeah..." He had then flopped bodily down onto one of the beds, letting out an exaggerated sigh. "I'm beat. Do you think I could use the shower, Sasori-danna, un?" Those had been the Iwa-nin's last actions, nearly half an hour ago, and the sound of water had stopped, only the last few wisps of steam still emerging from beneath the door. Sasori hadn't bothered answering, choosing to hunch up in one corner of the room and meditate. However, the sound of his new partner opening the door did break through his consciousness somewhat.
As the blond reentered the small bedroom, Sasori glanced over momentarily. Tch, he's still soaked, he noted warily, watching as Deidara wandered out with a towel tied to his waist and another in his hands. With a lazy grin the boy sat down on the edge of his bed and began towel-drying his hair, the bright yellow strands going all over. His hands were rough, but it seemed like he was being careful to avoid the left side of his face where that annoying fringe of his remained in place. Sasori thought about tearing it from his scalp, but knew it was better left alone. After a few more minutes of this silence, Deidara tossed the towel into the corner of the room and flopped onto his back, arms folded behind his head. The brat's still wearing just a towel...Sasori realized with a scowl. Deidara didn't know much decency, it seemed. From what he's already said about his parents, I suppose it makes sense.
The pair had arrived safely at their checkpoint, finding a hotel to stay the night over before finishing their journey back to the lair and completing their small mission. Information retrieval... admittedly, Sasori could understand why Sir Leader would bother sending them in particular. While he had methods of getting what they wanted swiftly and silently, Deidara was fully capable of launching a full-scale assault on his own or reducing any evidence of their presence to nothing. His level of power at such a young age was promising, and the strange malice the blond bore on his shoulders, in that grin, was something almost beastlike. If any young child had a chance of dealing with the scorpion's brutal, inhumane nature... he supposed Sir Leader thought Deidara would fit the bill. Still, aside from his unnerving manner of expression, Deidara didn't really look like much of a hostile criminal madman. The long blond hair, the mirth that shined in that odd blue eye, the pathetically slender build – even if it did support decent muscle for a kid so young – Sasori studied the blond from within the safety of his Hiruko, coming to one rather awkward conclusion and decided to assert it. "Anybody ever tell you that you look like a damn girl?"
"That's the first thing you've said to me since we got back, Sasori-danna, yeah! Not very nice of you, either, un..." The blond's blue eye glittered with something between mirth and madness yet again as he cast a small, narrow grin at his partner. The face seemed to echo the wild disposition of the earlier explosion, once again unsettling the scorpion. This is how you made it in, isn't it? Sasori thought. But what did you do Satisfied that Sasori was actually paying him some sort of mind finally, Deidara turned his attention back to the ceiling. Stretching his right arm palm skyward and balling his hand into a fist tightly, he let out a laugh. "Yeah, un. But they never say it twice."
-----
...And the fucking gaki still hasn't gotten himself killed, Sasori concluded to himself, done reflecting for the night. Since he didn't need sleep, it was just one of the many methods he employed to pass the hours while his partner dosed. Recently, Deidara had commented that he was fifteen, leaving Sasori with the sudden realization that the pair had been together for six years. Due to this insight, the puppeteer couldn't help but look back on things; he didn't wish that it had in fact been six years of solitude, as this was merely something he told the blond to annoy the boy and get a rise out of him. The company had its uses, naturally...
Glancing over at the other shinobi lying a few feet away, Sasori didn't care to notice that he had long ago lost the twitch. Nor had he noticed that he didn't attempt to strangle Deidara in his sleep these days; he simply waited till the damn gaki was awake enough to threaten him with a swat or two. Deidara himself still slept with his blankets strewn around him, still tossed and turned incessantly on rainier nights like this. The bag that he had clutched so inanely before now lay at his bedside table, still within reach. If the past six years had changed anything about the pair, it was simply that Deidara was now much taller than his partner, much louder, and much more resilient to the inevitable pain he surely would earn. Maturity had little to do with it, Sasori would claim, though admittedly he felt that the gaki was a bit more tolerable than before. It would be impossible for anyone to even trick the puppet-master into telling them this, as he was still having trouble telling himself it was true.
These days the artistic duo of Akatsuki worked quite well together, though they argued possibly worse than before. The other members said that this was to be expected, all things considered; Sasori told them that if all things were really considered, Deidara would have already been killed and turned into a piece of his art. These sort of breakfast table chats usually ended with Sasori and Deidara alone, the others all scattering from the room with various excuses while the two continued the debate more heatedly.
Even over the course of six years, the pair knew next to nothing about each other. The amount of contact they upheld was calculated painstakingly; they lived together, they worked together. When Deidara tried to point out that he never saw Sasori actually spend time with anyone else, the puppet-master simply said that he hated Deidara most of all. The logic might have escaped the boy then, but he continued to doggedly and persistently stay near the other individual. The only bits of information that were exchanged happened during the brief interrogations Deidara made that first month before Sasori decided to teach him just how dearly he liked his privacy. Now the blond spent most of his breath arguing with his danna about trifling matters; the older man seemed much more comfortable with that sort of talk and engaged in it with an extreme gusto some days, though he couldn't be bothered to wonder why the gaki incessantly wanted his attention.
The noisy shifting of the blond warned Sasori that his partner was either about to wake up or enter another one of his hopelessly random dreams or possibly even another nightmare. If it was just a nightmare, then he would surely have to hear about it in the morning; the kid never told him anything of his dreams. "Sasori-danna... don't..." Deidara muttered, breathing raggedly as he rolled over, his back facing the opposite side of the room where the puppet-master was stationed. Sasori allowed himself to twitch finally, but resolutely chose to ignore the strange murmurings of his partner. Gaki, what the hell do you dream about that you have to involve me, dammit... Like hell I'd listen to your protests, anyway. He suddenly found himself hoping that the blond was in fact having a nightmare, since it didn't seem likely that he would ever be fully capable of torturing him in real life. It wasn't until the boy let out a small moan that Sasori dropped the tool he had been holding, his entire being suddenly jolted. Whether he was aware of it or not, Akasuna no Sasori's carefully laid out routine was about to be completely and utterly obliterated, all because of a small and meaningless little argument... just because Sasori refused to believe that art was, in fact, 'a bang'.