As of right now, twenty-two-year-old Akasuna no Sasori was happy to report that everything in his life was perfect. He'd just moved out of his grandmother's house and found himself a great apartment where the rent was cheap enough for someone fresh out of college to pay. He had a great job as the manager of Sugoi Inc., his art studio. The idea behind it was that if rich people, or anyone, really, wanted something nice to hang on their walls or show off and had money to pay for it, they'd hire Sasori and his people to meet their needs. Business was going well and his bank account was growing like a sponge in water. The employees themselves had nothing to complain about- good pay and the job was actually fun.

It was Monday morning, 6:30 a.m. and Sasori was busy slipping into gray skinny jeans, his Escape The Fate shirt hung around his neck, waiting to be worn properly. This was just another great thing about the job: working in an art studio required no dress code whatsoever except for wearing an apron when working with messy materials. Not that anyone did, though. The only time he had to don formal clothing was when he would deliver finished pieces to people.

Sweet.

He stood up, zipped up his pants, and finished putting on his shirt. He grabbed the semi-damp towel he had just removed from his head and continued to pat his hair dry while the straightener heated up.

"Morning," a soft voice greeted Sasori as he came in through the double doors of the studio.

A woman got up from the chair she had apparently been dozing on. She hastily combed through her sleek midnight blue hair with her fingers. Sasori made a noncommital grunt and put his things down on the table, the impact sending woodshavings from last night's work flying everywhere.

Ah well, let Kisame take care of it.

"Konan, anything new?" Sasori asked, scooping the woodshavings that remained on the table into his cupped hand.

He looked in through the open door of his office and at the phone. The message light was not blinking and so he knew her answer before she opened her mouth to speak.

"No," she responded once having finished fixing a newly completed paper rose into her half-ponytail, half-bun. She smoothed down the rest of her hair and yawned. "We haven't gotten any calls- yet."

"This gives us time to complete Miyauchi-san's-" Sasori began.

"About time..." Konan said, not looking at Sasori but rather at the double doors. It took Sasori a couple of seconds to realize what she was talking about but then he faced the double doors too and knew what she was talking about.

"Aahh."

The doors had opened to reveal a tall, thin someone with spiky, gravity-defying bright orange hair. Sasori sometimes thought this guy would set a world record for most piercings if he ever cared to call the people at Guiness World Records. He wore skintight black jeans that had been artistically ripped here and there and a purposely faded As I Lay Dying shirt.

"Oi," Pein muttered, rubbing his eyes and wearily making his way to his usual table.

Not even two seconds later, the doors opened again and three people came in.

The first was tall with neck-length white-blond hair that had been brushed back and held in place with just enough gel to make it shine. His piercing violet eyes searched the room as he made his way to the table Pein was at. He wore a black muscle shirt and black-and-white Tripp shorts. The necklace nobody dared to talk about bounced up and down on his chest as he walked. Ladies and gentlemen...Hidan.

Behind him was the before mentioned Hoshigaki Kisame. His blue hair had been, as usual, gelled into spikes, resembling his pointed teeth. His clothes were nothing to speak of (they never were): a regular brown T-shirt and plain blue jeans.

Last but not least was Zetsu who was, perhaps, the most questionable of them all. Maybe it was his spiky green hair or his unusually sharp and unnerving teeth that made people want to run in the opposite direction when he approached them or maybe it was his golden eyes that seemed to stare right through you. Whatever it was, though, it was something nobody would ever (try to) understand.

"Where's Uchiha and the money-whore?" he demanded. And so the dark side of Zetsu was dominant today.

Konan stiffled a laugh. "They'll get here..."

And she was right.

Always late for work or "fashionably late" as they called it (not that they fooled anyone) they arrived, as was usual for them, at 7:40 a.m.

Everyone was about done cleaning when the two showed up.

"Morning," Uchiha Itachi said quietly, peeling off his jacket and revealing the brand new Avenged Sevenfold shirt he wore along with his plain blue jeans which, too, looked new. This was one of the many things that intrigued everyone that knew Itachi- he came from a loaded family and yet he found the necessity to work when he didn't wear the same clothes twice. Ever.

Who knew what he did with the many shirts and jeans that had only been worn once. Nobody ever saw them again.

Kakuzu said nothing and put down his things. He zipped up the hoodie that he never seemed to part with, hitched up his black skinny jeans, and brushed his freshly straightened charcoal-black hair out of his emerald eyes and raised his eyebrows so that they disappeared into his hair as if asking why they had not begun working yet.

Nobody offered him an answer.

By 9:20 a.m. everyone was hard at work, even Kisame. Konan had removed her hoodie, revealing that she was only wearing a black spaghetti-strap shirt in addition to her black skinny jeans. After the removal of the jacket, most of the guys were having serious problems concentrating on their work and it was then that Sasori decided it was time for a break- he didn't want Kisame's drool all over his nice clean floor.

"Anyone else want a burger?" Pein called as he headed for the double doors.

Sasori raised his hand and Pein nodded, exiting the building. They could hear the door shut and then the sound of car wheels grinding on asphalt.

"You notice we never eat lunch at lunch time?" Konan said loudly from across the room where she was cleaning some brushes.

"We don't get here on time either," Sasori replied, looking in Itachi and Kakuzu's direction.

Kakuzu turned around. "I told you, buying an alarm clock requires money. I'm not going to waste my precious money on an alarm clock when I have my internal clock to tell me when to wake up."

"You might wanna check that 'internal clock', man. I think it's broken," Hidan said, sniggering and scraping paint off the stool he was sitting on.

Kakuzu grabbed Sasori's chisel and threw it at Hidan, who avoided it by jumping off his stool and falling with a thud onto the cold floor. He remained there for a few seconds, groaning, before picking himself up again.

"Don't do that," Sasori said, working hard to supress a smirk.

Kakuzu snorted and put his head down on the table, feigning sleep.

Yes, Sasori thought, everything in life was definitely awesome right now. This was just another day at the studio with the people he'd known since kindergarden working for him. He loved his job, he loved his life, and, right now, he would not change anything at all.

Life just about sucked right now for eighteen-year-old Deidara. Sure, he had graduated from high school with honors but now that he was not going to school he had no idea what he wanted to do with himself. He thought back to the Mondays when he had complained endlessly about having to wake up early to go to school but now he really wished he was there again. He wanted to have every day planned out for him, he didn't want to have to do things himself, he didn't want to not know what was coming.

He didn't want to be grown up. He was scared.

Oh, how stupid that sounded! How childish, how...how....Deidara sighed. He felt stupid admitting that growing up was scary.

He'd just recently found an apartment, the rent wasn't that expensive. Still, he couldn't survive on his pitiful amount of so-called "life-savings" forever. He would have to find a job. And quick.

Deidara grabbed his keys and left his apartment, as always, forgetting to lock the door.

Deidara sat on an old bench at the park, looking over the available jobs on the newspaper he'd bought a few minutes before from the corner store.

Hmm.

Not much opportunities for someone fresh out of high school.

What a surprise.

Deidara continued to look over the ads, occasionally crossing one out, sometimes stopping at one and then frowning. Getting a job was turning out to be harder than he had thought.

Tutor?

No.

Full-time babysitter...

What the fuck? No.

Sugoi Inc.

Huh?

Deidara straightened out the paper, looking at the little add, very much interested in what it had to offer. The pay was pretty good and all they basically did was commissions. No college or any sort of experience (besides knowing how to draw or sculpt) needed. Hey! Deidara had never set foot in college and he could sculpt! Sounded good! A fun, well-paying job...

If Deidara wasn't so nervous about his first job, he'd say that now the only thing left to do was call.

But it wasn't.

It was 8:32 p.m. and Sasori was heading home, feeling very satisfied with himself. He'd be starting two new projects tomorrow and he'd finished all of the ones that were due today. Life was great. Everything was going smoothly and he didn't want anything to change.

Unfortunately for the redhead, there were going to be changes soon.

Big changes.

UGH!! Something is totally wrong with this editor! D; It mixes up the whole "Hey guys, how's it going?" thing I usually do at the beginning of every chapter with the first paragraph :| So...I erased it until I can figure out how to solve the problem u.u Anyway, please R&R (: Thanks!