Edit: this story definitely isn't being abandoned as this author note used to say. I'm a little rusty writing-wise so reviews really help! Thanks for reading!
He never slept. Literally, day in and out, whenever he wasn't away, he slaved over the same dark-wooded desk. I could never tell what exactly it was that he was doing— he sat in a corner, almost crumpled up into a contortionist's position. I wondered if he and I were alike somehow. I never slept either. I wasn't ever able to understand what was going on though. There was a long time where I thought I was blind; I lost track of how many seconds it lasted, which is very strange for me.
When the dark finally dissipated, the first thing I saw was his smile and those heavy, dull brown eyes. He gently pushed hair from my face and held me in his arms tightly as if he were afraid I'd break otherwise. 152 seconds. Setting me on his chair, he rummaged through boxes and papers not far from his desk, and once he cleared a spot deemed right enough, he positioned me there. I was utterly mesmerized by the way the kinks in his fair locks that twisted and turned like a deep red ocean and the way he moved so seamlessly. His touch was soft enough I barely felt it. His lips slightly puckered whenever he was deep in thought. His nurturing air subsided as returned to his desk and scratched something down on paper, eyeing me on occasion. He drew a long sigh and slumped a bit, "So tired." But he still never slept.
Roughly 173,000 seconds after that— a little over two days— I heard a new voice. It sliced the thin air between my savior and I.
"Sasori-danna! Do you plan on coming out any time soon, hm?" I watched the redhead. I'd thought of dubbing him as something like a master although I typically grew shy when thinking of calling him so. I didn't know how else to refer to him. He glared with a hint of fury at the door just beyond me, "possibly." The door squeaked and fell open just a bit.
"You've been in here for over a week, hm! Are you still working on the same damn project?" The new voice asked. It was a low, gruff sound— much unlike the redhead's. A lengthy whistle followed and Redhead's face flattened further. The new person invited himself in and squatted in front of me. It was a bit embarrassing how close he leaned in to me, but I quite liked the blue eyes that eagerly peered into my own.
"Rude as always, aren't you," Red growled through gritted teeth, moving back to his work. He didn't seem to be much of a fan of this person. Blue laughed at Red wryly and turned his head queerly, taking in different angles, "Y'know, it's unlike you that you haven't showed this one off already. I'd have thought you'd at least used her by now, hm."
"Unlike you, I don't have to show my artwork off to prove its viability," Red replied. Blue's jaw tightened and he scoffed, "shut up, Danna." 'Artwork'? I wished now more than ever that I weren't so goddamn stiff. I was trapped, motionless, in this cold carcass. I couldn't force any words from myself. They just pooled at the back of my throat and it burned. Blue ruffled my hair and stood up. "Are you even going to use her at all, hm?"
"Soon enough, I suppose," Master huffed, setting his tools down, "she is already experiencing cognition and the highest extent of feeling that she now logically can."
Blue tsked him somberly, "hopefully she's not as impatient as you are, 'else just sitting there's gotta be torture, hm." He leaned back down into my view with a grin and waved. I didn't see him again for a while. Red left some time after Blue did having once secured himself inside Hiruko, whom was obviously a prized belonging of his, and he said that he'd be back in three or four days' time. I didn't have much to do considering I couldn't consciously move, but I counted a lot. I counted Red's work tools and finished and unfinished projects alike. When I wasn't counting, I was listening to the muffled voices just outside the room. I think the voice I favored most belonged to a female. It was easily comparable to a soft, serene instrumental note, very similar to a lullaby. I also really liked another, although I guess it wasn't so much the actual voice, but the person who it belonged to was polite. I began habitually associating that voice with manners. Whenever I wasn't counting or listening, though, I was thinking about the redhead.
Blue said it was strange he hadn't showed me off— hadn't used me. Red called me artwork, and I guessed he had to be some sort of artist to have so many projects lying around on top of his relentless work ethic. He hadn't left his room in nearly a week. I didn't understand my purpose, if I even had one. If I did, it was something to do with Red. I was stuck in some sort of glass corpse, staring at the same scene. I was a task of unknown origins. I wondered, then, if Red was thinking about me as much as I thought of him. He never slept but neither did I. I gazed unwillingly into the dark and continued counting and counting and counting.
256,201 seconds was nearly three days. I couldn't remember when I started counting consecutively again though since my last break, so I hypothesized it'd been roughly four and a half days since his departure. Red would hopefully be back soon and that thought simply sent me over the moon. He didn't talk to me a lot necessarily but I enjoyed watching him go about his day even if he didn't do much, and when he did actually talk to me— oh, it was wonderful! Sometimes he asked me what I thought of various things or he told me about his favorite memories and he solemnly discussed his work. I envied the romanticisms he concealed so well within himself and I wished he would never stop pouring his passions before me. His vulnerabilities grasped his humanity and laid it on the very ground between us: it was breathtaking. The door, as it routinely does, squeaked open.
"I'm back," he spoke as he walked in. My very soul could have left my body. Red let himself out of Hiruko and set him aside. I was overjoyed and he gave me a nearly nonexistent smile whilst he approached me. He lit the dim room and picked me up, my head lulling back. My stomach flipped in succession but I couldn't tell if I was smiling. The redhead opened a large scroll with seals and markings that decorated the parchment. In the center was an open circle, various kanji within the middle of it. He placed me atop it gingerly and knelt nearby me.
"I'm sure you're well beyond ready to feel something more than nothing," he stated monotonously. A sense of ennui arose within me. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Perchance, it's unfortunate that part is also eternal. With beauty comes a partially reluctant vanity." The door squeaked again and the redhead's head snapped to.
"Are you doing... the thing, hm?" Blue curiously whispered. Red rolled his eyes and retorted, "I was considering it but I'd rather not have an audience. Out." Blue grimaced, unflappable. He shoved the door fully open and held a hip, "is it really such a big deal, hm?" Red rubbed the bridge of his nose and gave a half-assed wave of defeat.
"Just stay over there if it won't kill you." Blue snickered and cast a lazy glance at us. He turned back to me and held up a hand sign, "Hitokugutsu!"
I felt my eyes widen, my head was swimming. Reality spun clockwise. I physically remained on the floor but it felt within my bones as if something was pulling me up by a string connected to my very core. Red placed his hands over my heart and all at once, the vision of me hanging suspended disappeared as some sort of force crushed me back onto the ground. The exacerbation of my sudden coughs didn't at all help the head rush. I weakly propped myself up and inhaled deeply.
"I have to say, well done, Danna! Hm." I looked at Blue for the first real time, then back to the man before me. Red looked very pleased with himself; but I purposely avoided his view and sat all the way up.
"Hey, you okay, hm?" Blue asked.
"Yeah…" God, my voice sounded so foreign.
"Good. Well, the name's Deidara. Yours?" I nearly choked as I looked at Red pleadingly. He simpered out of twisted amusement, "you don't remember." Shoulders slumped, I couldn't remember anything before the darkness. Was I supposed to? I denied quietly.
"Her name is Akamori— Mori for short," he stated, "seems her memories were wiped." I pursed my lips shyly as I apologized, but he shook his head indifferently.
"Your name… Sasori-sama, right?" I questioned. Deidara snorted loudly, "Sama? That's a bit... unfitting, isn't it, hm?"
I blushed, remaining quiet. Sasori shot him a glare, "you don't have to berate her within her first ten minutes of remembered consciousness, useless brat." Deidara was a bit taken a back, realizing the other man had a point.
"I'm Akasuna no Sasori." His tone returned to the calm, soothing demeanor I'd been so taken by.
"A pleasure." I barely managed to spit the words out. I steadied myself to stand and Sasori grabbed my forearm. He caught my confused expression and huffed, "you're not going to be very stable at first. Take it easy." There was obviously something weird going on here and I wasn't for certain if it was a dream (or nightmare) yet. Considering the sanity-splitting blackness, the sudden "rebirthing" or sorts, dissociative feelings... something happened. I was apparently a strain of artwork carved by Sasori himself. At the same time, there were things I was supposed to remember but didn't have so much as an inkling of a clue to what the hell was going on about. I didn't know my name was Akamori. I didn't even remember what my own voice sounded like. But there was Akasuna no Sasori who I, for some reason, felt oddly indebted to. He somehow made it seem like this was all his fault, thus I didn't know why I was prematurely assigning him a part or act of heroism, but he was the one at the end of my tunnel. He was the first memory I had and that had to count for something.
