Hey everyone! I haven't been too active lately, so if you're a reader of any of my other stories, I'm very sorry! I'm still trying to work on them, I promise, I've just been plagued by terrible writers block. This is just something that came to mind when I was re-watching the fight between Deidara and Sasuke. Deidara has always been one of my favorite characters, but I realized he has very little in the way of backstory. I honestly don't know where to go with this story, but if you have any ideas, feel free to let me know! Enjoy!
It was a cool evening in Iwagakure, and a thin mist was settling amongst the large stone structures that made up most of the village. Protected from the chill in a small, warm home, a young brunette was busy setting a table for two, as she had night after night for nearly four years. She hummed cheerfully as she portioned out the food, putting a little more on one plate than the other. She stepped back, both to admire her handywork and to be sure that she didn't forget anything. She put the dirtied pot back in the kitchen to be cleaned later, then returned to the table.
"Dei-chan," she called. "Dinner's ready!" A few moments later there were footsteps approaching from down the hall, and a young boy entered the room. His eyes were an icy blue, the same as hers, and partially covered by the bangs of his long blonde hair. He wore a slight frown.
"Don't call me that, I'm not a little kid anymore Yuka," he grumbled in irritation as he sat at the plate with the larger portion of food. Yuka sat down as well.
"I know, I know. I'm sorry, it's a habit." She began eating, then stopped. He just stared at the food, his lip curled with what looked like disgust. Yuka's brow furrowed. "What's wrong?"
"Green curry again?"
"I thought you liked my green curry?" she questioned, crestfallen.
"I do, but that's all we've eaten the past few days," he explained, picking at the food with his chopsticks. "I just want something different." She sighed.
"I'd like something different too, but this will have to do. The ingredients are cheap, and we can make them last." He seemed disappointed with her answer, but gave no further argument. Instead, he began eating. She watched him for a moment, a feeling of sadness and helplessness welling in her. She wanted to do better for her little brother, but simply couldn't. She had been left as his sole caretaker at the tender age of fourteen. He had only been six when their parents died on a mission. Since then she's struggled to support the both of them, though she had had some help from Deidara's sensei, Onoki.
"How was your training today?" she questioned, hoping to raise both of their spirits with some conversation.
"Sensei said we could have the day off today. He wanted us to rest after that last mission." A big smile then came to his face. Yuka couldn't help but smile in return. That smile of his has become more and more rare as the years had passed. "I did finish a few sculptures today, if you want to see them later," he offered. She nodded.
"Of course I want to see them!" The prospect of showing off his art excited him, and he began to scarf down his food eagerly. Yuka chuckled. He had always loved art, though his style had certainly evolved over the years. Before the death of their parents', he was constantly drawing. The walls of his room had been completely covered in his creations. They had been bright and happy pictures. That changed, however, right after they learned of their parents' demise. He had locked himself in his room for days. When she had finally convinced him to let her in, she found all of his drawings had been torn from the walls and destroyed. After that, his focus turned to sculpting with clay and his powers, specifically his kekkei genkai, Explosion Release, flourished. At nine, he had already been assigned an S-rank mission, something Yuka had never had. His most recent mission had been his third S-rank. His art isn't all that had changed, his behavior had taken a drastic turn as well. He used to always wear a smile, and never seemed to have a bad day. Now he would only smile around Yuka, and he had developed a very short temper, which had almost completely isolated him from other kids in the village, save for his team.
"Come on Yuka, hurry up!" Deidara's demanding tone pulled her from her thoughts. She looked over and saw that he had already brought his plate to the kitchen and was now waiting for her to finish the food that she had hardly touched. She smiled.
"Sorry, I was just thinking." She got to her feet. "I can eat later, right now I want to see your new sculptures." He grinned, grabbed her hand, and dragged her down the hall to his room. He turned the light on and stood proudly next to the desk where he did all of his work. There were three white sculptures lined up next to each other. The first was a coiled snake rearing its head as if ready to attack. The second was a doll with features that very loosely resembled a humanoid figure. The wings on its back led her to believe that it was meant to be an angel of sorts. The third came as no surprise to her. It was a bird. Though simplest in design, she was sure this was the one he had put the most effort into. He had always loved birds. The idea of flight had always thrilled him.
"Well?" he questioned. She laughed, walked over to him and pulled him into a hug.
"They're wonderful. Even better than the last." He looked up at her with wide eyes.
"Really?" she nodded, ruffling his hair.
"Your hair's so long," she noticed. He backed away from her, not wanting his hair played with. "Don't you want it cut?" he shook his head.
"I like it like this." She put her hands up.
"Alright, I don't want to hear it when it gets in the way of a mission." He plopped down on his bed.
"It's fine Yuka, you worry too much." She shrugged.
"It's my job." He gave a weak smile, then his gaze fell to the ground. He was silent for a while, and she could tell something was bothering him.
"Hey, sis?" he asked, finally breaking his silence, but still keeping his eyes locked on the ground.
"What's up?" she asked softly, kneeling in front of him.
"Why didn't you just use some of the money I earned to get some bakudan?" She chuckled.
"Your mind's still on food?"
"So what if it is?" he snapped defensively, crossing his arms.
"I didn't use the money you earned because that's for you, Deidara. That clay you use isn't cheap, and I want you to be able to buy as much of it as you need." He finally looked up to meet her eyes. Yuka rested a hand on his cheek. "Supporting us and feeding us is my responsibility. You're way too young to have to worry about that."
"But I wanted us to share some…" he protested. She blinked somewhat surprised.
"Fine, tell you what. If you want to get us some bakudan that badly, you can treat me tomorrow after your training." For a moment, his expression seemed sad, but he quickly smiled and nodded.
"That reminds me, I need more clay," he stated, perking up.
"Tonight?" He nodded. "Deidara, why didn't you tell me sooner? I have to go to the next village over to get the kind you like, and it's already getting late."
"I'm sorry, I-I forgot…" She sighed and got to her feet.
"I'll try, but I might not make it there in time," she warned. "Don't let anybody in the house, and don't you dare go anywhere." She bent over so she could be face to face with him. "And Dei-chan," she placed a soft kiss on his forehead. "I love you."
"Yuka…" he whined, wiping his his forehead. "That's gross." She laughed, and turned to leave. "Sis." She looked back at him. He took his arm away from his forehead, letting his bangs fall back over his face. "I love you." Yuka smiled, though was somewhat taken aback. He hadn't told her he loved her in years. Realizing she may have paused for too long, based on the puzzled look clouding Deidara's eyes, she turned with a wave and headed out of the house.
Yuka made her way quickly through the forest lugging a large bag of molding clay. She had barely made it to the shop on time, but make it she did. She wasn't about to let her brother down. Though it had grown dark, and the moonlight failed to pierce the thick canopy of trees, her steps were confident. She had traveled this path countless times, so even if she couldn't see her body knew the way. She was hoping to make it home before Deidara chose to go to bed. Soon, she was free of from the mass of trees as she stepped out onto the hill that looked over her village. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath of the crisp night air. Then her eyes snapped open. She could pick up the faint scent of smoke on the wind. Her eyes widened in panic as she noticed bright orange flames licking at several areas of Iwagakure. A huge cloud of smoke was forming over head. Her instincts taking over, she began to sprint down the path that led to her home near the edge of town. Her heart sank as the glow of a large fire became visible.
"Deidara!" she screamed desperately as she neared her home. It was engulfed by greedy flames that burned away at the walls. The ceiling had collapsed, the windows had shattered, and door had been broken out. "Deidara!" she called again, hoping against all hope that he had gotten out. She began to search the perimeters of the house, frantically looking every which way. Then she spotted it. A small figure was rushing towards the woods. "Dei-chan!" she cried, relief rushing through her. He froze, and turned to face her as she ran towards him. She reached him, dropped the clay she was carrying, and threw her arms around him, dropping to her knees to be at his level. He was rigid with, what she assumed, fear. "I know you're scared, but we need to go help the other villagers. There was no response. "Deidara?" She backed away to look at him. His face and clothing were covered in ashes. His blue eyes were wide with both shock and fear, and for the first time, she realized he was clutching on to a scroll. Her brow furrowed. "Deidara?" All he could do was slowly shake his head.
"Why are you here?" he asked softly, his voice shaky. His hands were trembling.
"What do you mean?"
"Why are you here?" he repeated, a little louder this time. "You weren't supposed to be back yet!" he shouted, taking a couple of steps back. She looked at his face, which was contorted by panic, and then to the scroll, her eyes widening as she pieced things together. The reason he had seemed so saddened by their plans for the next day. The reason he had wanted her to leave so late. The reason he had told her he loved her.
"Deidara, what did you do?" He shook his head, holding the scroll closer to him. His eyes were beginning to water.
"It wasn't enough. I'm not good enough yet," he explained. "I need this to reach my goal. My art needs to be better." Yuka couldn't hold back the tears that came with the reality of what her brother had done. She shook her head. His love of art had evolved into an obsession. A dark obsession that had overwhelmed him and taken control of his entire being.
"You can't do this Dei-chan. You need to return the kinjutsu now." Her tone was more pleading than demanding, despite her efforts. "You're too young, you could be such a great shinobi. Just give me the scroll and we'll return it." He just stared at the ground. "Things might be difficult for a while, but I know Onoki would-"
"You need to get out of here Sis," he said, cutting her off. "I don't know what they would to you, but I don't want you being punished."
"Nobody will be punished, just do as I say." He finally looked up at her, his blue eyes hardened into a glare. Her breath caught in her throat. He had never looked at her that way before. When she failed to say anything else, he turned on his heel.
"I'm sorry Yuka…" Without giving her a chance to respond, he took off running.
"Dei-chan…" she murmured, fully aware that her feeble voice could no longer reach him. Now alone with no sound but the crackling of their burning home, Yuka collapsed into a sobbing heap.
