Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto. I'm just a fan who is making no profit.
Warnings: Amateur fanfiction writer. Beware.
Feel free to point mistakes. I don't speak English so this will be far from perfect.
Chapter one
Hidden among the rocks of an enormous cliff east from the village, the boy sighed, tapped his foot twice, and retied his hair for what had to be the tenth time. His companions shot him annoyed looks from their hiding places. He didn't mind. This assignment was boring him out of his mind. He hadn't seen action for a whole week, and now they sent him to watch a deserted path in dull silence.
The Tsuchikage was growing increasingly worried about this supposed spy from Kami-knows-where. Apparently, someone had been sneaking in the archives and gathering knowledge about the village's earth-based techniques. He could understand the old man's worry; the Rock ninja were among the most competent in the world and the security was tight, yet someone was managing to fool them for what had to be close to two months, already. This was no petty criminal.
So here was his group, waiting for the suspect. Usually, stronger shinobi would have been assigned for something of such importance. But the village, always in need of money, had sent most of them in the riskier and therefore better paid missions, the remaining being in guard duty around the village. Plus, this was their chance, as a team, to prove they were capable of fulfilling harder missions than those they were usually assigned to.
The curiosity and even excitement at the prospect of fighting the mysterious spy who misled the village's best sentinels lasted for something like fifteen minutes, until the group realized they would have to wait for an undetermined amount of time. He couldn't help being fidgety; his duties usually involved more action.
To be honest, fidgety was an understatement. His skin felt irritated as if burnt, his breath was almost as fast as if he had run a long marathon, and his heart beat so hard he could hear it. Shifting a little to ease the pain from being stiff for long, he reached for his pouch. It should be filled only with ninja supplies, yet he took out his favorite source of entertainment.
The comfortable weight of the clay was most welcomed, and he closed his hands over it. The boy could feel his teammates watching, but that didn't bother him. His hands twisted, his fingers pressed and his nails cared for the smaller details. The shorter part of his long blond hair escaped the tie and covered his eyes, but he didn't mind. He was so used to this he could almost do it with his eyes closed.
A few more minutes and his hands opened completely, to reveal the finished work.
"This one looks so real!", said the girl who was further away from him, also hidden but visible from his angle. "They always do."
Really, it was not this great, Deidara thought as he inspected the sculpture in his hands – but he had to admit, he liked it when other people praised his work.
"I wonder how you manage to make them, and so fast."
That was the other boy, closer to him. He must have been sincere, for he was the one who had been telling the group to stay very still and silent, yet was now loudly praising him.
"That's right, it's impressive. You're an artist, Deidara-nii."
That made him frown. Artist? Of course he was. Since small, he was working on his talent. But this thing wasn't art. It was small, unmoving and colorless. Art couldn't be like this, it simply couldn't! Annoyed at the kunoichi's ignorance, he closed his hand into a fist, smashing the still soft figurine back into a ball of clay.
His teammates looked disturbed by this, specially Kurotsuchi, who was opening her mouth to start one of her annoying tirades.
They tensed.
It was barely noticeable, but something was coming from the dirty road they were sent to watch. While it could be many things, this was a forbidden path for anyone to take without permission. Calling chakra to his ears, Deidara concentrated his augmented hearing in order to listen what was further away from him, and ignoring what was closer.
There was it: the unmistakable sound of steps over earth and stones, crunching a twig here and there. The rustle of clothes. The rattling of what must have been items inside some sort of bag.
Deidara frowned. If this was a ninja, it was a ridiculously clumsy one. Who would try to infiltrate the Rock village making noise that, in shinobi terms, was an absolute scandal?
His companions probably thought the same, since they relaxed considerably. And suddenly the horrible tension inside him was back, demanding release, and he just wanted to fight. Whoever this person was, they were screwed. There would be nothing but an unrecognizable pulp in the floor when he was done. Prudency gave way to anger, and he fixed his eyes on the road, ready to attack as soon as they appeared.
It looked like his companions suddenly could feel his temper, for they gave him worried looks. The steps drew closer and he appeared - an old man wearing modest beige clothes, worn out sandals and a huge straw hat, and carrying a voluminous backpack.
Kurotsuchi jumped down before any of them could, and Issamu sighed. They had agreed beforehand he would be the one to intercept the stranger, since he was older looking than both Kurotsuchi and Deidara.
"Stop right there!" She said in a demanding voice, or as demanding as a twelve years old, short for her age girl could be.
The stranger looked doubtful. Not even the headband was enough to help her, it seemed. Issamu followed Kurotsuchi, making the man instantly apprehensive.
"You're trespassing into a forbidden area. The only permitted way to the village is through its main gates. We're taking you into custody." He said it in a monotonous tone. It looked like he wouldn't even do the standard procedures of checking for weapons and hidden items. This man was probably some civilian trying to sells goods here without paying taxes, Deidara thought, and they spent a whole day waiting for him. He would never have the battle he was waiting for.
"Trespassing? No, no!", the man held his hands in front of him with open palms, in a gesture of surrender. "It's just that the way to the gates is too long, and the sun does no good for my health."
"You're coming with us."
"No, really, I am just visiting my brother..." the pathetic stranger said, taking a few steps to distance himself from the stoic ninja.
The dark haired boy looked like he was going to say something else, but Deidara gave him no chance. The old man bothered him, his hands were clenching tightly, his chakra just wanted to be used, and it looked like people just wanted to talk. He leaped.
Kurotsuchi screamed and Issamu tried to restrain him, to no avail. Deidara felt exhilarated, trembling, and a little insane. He felt his agitated chakra finally synchronize with his wishes, now that he wanted to put it into use, rushing to his hands in a familiar way. Locking eyes with the man's wide ones, he prepared his first strike.
The old man's eyes suddenly narrowed in the determination seen in experienced fighters, surprising the blond, but he was far too gone in his rage to heed to the instincts warning him that this was a dangerous foe. The man looked like he would try to block his fist, as Deidara hoped he would. This guy was in for a nasty surprise. There was a reason people avoided hand-in-hand combat with him.
As if reading these thoughts, the stranger jumped out of reach with an unexpectedly quick movement, avoiding just in time the enormous explosion that left Deidara's suddenly open palm.
Damn it, not bad. Most people were fooled by this one, and ended being blasted while thinking they were just blocking a young boy's punch. The man jumped up to the cliff that was the team's hiding place a couple of minutes ago, and looked down at the damage with calm, unimpressed eyes.
For some reason he couldn't really explain, that made Deidara's blood boil.
His teammates seemed to have come out of the shock of having the scared foreigner being a ninja and were now in fighting stances and sending him signals, but Deidara paid them no mind. He was the stronger in the group, and could end this himself.
He jumped to where the man was. Now that he already expected the enemy to be fast, he wouldn't allow him to avoid this strike. He often fought opponents faster than himself and won.
Making it look as if he would attack the man directly, he directed the explosion to the rock the man was standing over in the last moment, making him lose balance. He was quick to regain it, but that moment of distraction was enough to direct a blast to his chest.
"Water release: water encampment wall."
There was not enough time to commemorate, for the debris quickly faded away and a water shield blown out of the man's mouth was visible, protecting the him from any damage.
Deidara cursed. His explosives were dual types: They were earth and fire based, and while the earth should make them stronger than the water, the fire was in disadvantage to the element, in the end making both his and the man's techniques equally powerful.
But then he studied the barrier before it fell down, with a pensive frown.
It was not perfect, and he would have expected such a skilled fighter to be able to master a barrier ninjutsu, if it was of his element, or not perform it at all. The shield was defective, had a few hollow spaces and some visible openings that could be targeted in order to take down the whole construct with a precise, calculated strike.
"Water release: rising water slicer."
Water jets were directed towards the blond, and two managed to make him fall down. Were they done properly, they would have cut him in a half, but in this situation, they just forced him to back away. Looking up from the ground, he already knew the enemy had the advantage of being on top, and honestly didn't want to start a game of trying to reach him. Better to end this in his favorite way. Smirking, he started gathering a great part of his explosive chakra to both of his hands, preparing to land a strike that, from his experience with demolition, he knew would take the whole thing down.
A fierce kick to his gut interrupted his plans. The air from his lungs felt gone as he fell to the floor, clutching his stomach, and lost the grasp in the fierce chakra that was ready to leave his body. Most of it turned violently back to his core, leaving him stunned and trembling, and a smaller part burned the skin in his hands.
Deidara let out a soundless scream and looked up just to see Kurotsuchi trying to hit the man's neck from behind – and he escaped, the bastard! – and then he jumped and turned back to the same road he came from, fleeing from sight.
Issamu ran after him, while Kurotsuchi went down to see if Deidara was well.
The three chunin had their eyes lowered to the ground as the Tsuchikage angrily listed the reasons why they failed, after hearing the report. Deidara made sure to keep his head bowed. He usually didn't take rebukes well, but didn't want to protest and give his teacher and leader a reason to send him to jail.
And the short old man behind that enormous desk was right, no matter how much he hated to admit it. The spy's escape was partly his fault and while he was no goody-two-shoes, failure was still a bitter pillow to swallow. He wasn't used to such a sensation, being one of the strongest – if not the stronger, he often told himself – ninja of his rank. His talent as a fighter combined with his bloodline limit would usually take care of most foes, when allied to some strategy. Now he had to deal with being berated as he hadn't been in what felt like ages, because of that arrogant, impassive man who fooled him, who looked down at him.
All the greater reason to hunt the bastard, and bring him down.
This wasn't the moment for such thoughts, however. He turned to pay attention to the Kage's tirade, lest he anger the man and get a worst punishment than whatever must have been reserved for them all.
"You're all on probation for two weeks. I will make sure to cure you from your carelessness and disobedience. Dismissed!"
Great, just great. He had thought they would be assigned to humiliating D-rank missions, but of course such light punishment wouldn't even pass through the man's head. Probations were assigned to ninja who were showing incompetence or unruliness in the field. Apart from its humiliating factor – the clear display of how you weren't fulfilling your superior's expectations – there was the fact that it usually consisted on training in a much harder level than the usual, as if they didn't work to their limit in a normal day already. To put it simply, it was constant corporal punishment and humiliation to make sure you and whoever watched you made sure not to repeat the mistake.
Yet, he wouldn't complain. He could only be grateful that everyone thought he had realized the old man was a shinobi. Now they saw him as an irresponsible and hotheaded but very perceptive person. Ha! Whatever he would get if anyone discovered he attacked that person with everything he had while believing the guy was a civilian, it surely wouldn't be pleasant.
He left the room in quick strides. Issamu didn't follow. The stoic boy was probably horrified by the failure and the punishment, Deidara groused mentally, since he always did his very best and was all full of following the rules and being a good boy.
At least he could be alone. Probation started tomorrow, and he had no wish to talk to those two right now.
"Deidara-nii!"
Well, damn it.
"I should have known better, huh!" He snarled, and then coughed. Since when was his voice so scratchy? Kurotsuchi looked at him with a confused frown.
"What?"
He cleared his throat and spoke with a clearer voice. "Nothing. What do you want? If it's an apology, you will wait for the rest of your life, yeah."
They all heard Issamu reporting he kicked Deidara in order to stop him from setting an explosion that would hit her, but he really didn't notice she was approaching the enemy that moment. Besides, she was the first one to act carelessly, being the first to intercept the enemy when they clearly told her not to.
She looked up at him with an unhappy expression. "It's not that. It's just that you've been silent, nii-san."
The blond blinked, confused. That was it? His silence? Looking back in time, he could imagine what she meant. When was the last time he had spoken? Complaining about the nurse who cleaned his wounds too roughly and refused to give him anything for his headache?
Why had he been so silent? He usually wasn't very talkative – people around him were boring as hell, wanting to talk about the insignificant happenings in their lives and nothing else. But surely he should have had something to say to his teammates in the past days they worked together. Yet now he could remember being silent and withdrawn. That wasn't like him.
Weird.
Not that he would share deep thoughts about his actions with the little pest who looked up at him with concern in her eyes.
"I just don't have anything to talk about to that ice cube Issamu or you and your little crushes, huh. Go home."
Kurotsuchi started getting red and protesting about what he said, but he gave her no time, jumping over the nearest hoof and making his way to his apartment from above. She'd better not follow. He wanted some peace.
He sure didn't want it the last few days, though. It was easy to remember being fidgety, unquiet and violent. Right now he felt so much better – bored and frustrated, yes, but that insanity was gone, and he could concentrate and look at objects and people without suddenly wanting to destroy them.
His destructive chakra was becoming a bother again. It would always accumulate and run fast through his veins, taking crazy patterns and not letting him think rationally. He usually didn't have such a problem when he worked at the Explosion Corps. It demanded a lot of him, and liberated the excess, leaving him equilibrated. But after being assigned missions that involved stealth and silent attacks, it kept building until it felt like Deidara himself would explode.
Entering the second floor apartment through the window, the boy threw himself in the bed, looking at his bandaged palms. It was very rare that his bloodline limit would hurt him. Yet, he was grateful he had it. It made him different from the others, gave him strong emotions and feeling and destructive power, and he liked it.
Deidara narrowed his eyes, concentrating. He already knew this technique very well, but this didn't change the fact that he could lose his hands if he got distracted. Gather his chakra, the normal one that felt as easy as breathing, to his center. Feel for his other chakra, the burning, agitated energy that sometimes made him shake, and have it ready. Direct his normal chakra to his outstretched hands, creating a barrier, a shield that would protect his fingers and his palms from the impact and the heat. Direct his other chakra, the one that felt like it had a life of its own, to his palms, focus outwards…
And release it.
'Explosion release: landmine fist!'
The explosion that left his hands completely destroyed the dummy he was training with, and the wall behind it. Somewhere far away someone shouted, probably because he had yet again ruined the place, but he could only relish on the sound and the heat and having that energy finally out of him. He let out a long breath and wiped his long hair and the sweat off his brow with his long sleeve, feeling a tension he didn't know was there leaving him.
"-so irresponsible! And useless! How many times do I have to tell you? You can kill your opponent with a considerably smaller explosion! In almost any place, it will either end them immediately, or incapacitate them! There's no need for such waste of energy!"
The rush of excitement left Deidara, but he was good humored after having got ridden of his stress, and looked up at his instructor. "Sorry, huh. But it's been days since I could work it out of me, so I could not control it."
It being his bloodline limit, the one most of the shinobi in the Explosion Corps had – the explosive chakra with effects no one could imitate with normal body and mind energy.
"Bullshit!" Some spit flew from the roaring jonin, and Deidara had to force himself not to curl his lip in disgust. "You forget I have the same ability as you, boy? Even when I had just discovered it I could control it better! I've stayed days and even weeks at a time without using it, and I know there's no such thing as the energy becoming too much and all of that you say, everyone here knows! You're just an attention seeking brat!"
"Sorry, huh", he said again. "Not happening again. Really."
Or at least not today, was the silent thought. Deidara would be the first to admit he was not a cooperative person. He could and would put his needs and wishes before other people's whenever he could, when it wouldn't end in punishment. He was in a shinobi village, after all.
But when it came to his bloodline limit, he honestly did not have a choice. Since very small he had been identified as one of those with explosive release – The village was always searching for children with it and knew what signs to look for. Not that it took an expert to discover him. The enormous amount of chakra that had been building on him started to make him burn, and burn other people, and other things he did not exactly remember in the mass of memories of hospitals and bandages and being poked at by curious doctors. It was abnormal and didn't have an explanation, but it looked like everyone had forgotten about it by now, if the way they looked so offended at his behavior when practicing was anything to go by.
Going to the other side of the room, he started training with his explosions again, and this time he could control them much better. Losing himself in the exercise of attacking precise targets with carefully calculated damage, he ignored the people grumbling behind him about how he was faking it all along. He had been through this too many times.
He left his bed with a jump. Deep contemplations about the past bored him. Still in his chunin uniform, he decided to go out and search for more clay. There was almost none left in there, and he was suddenly struck with inspiration. Surely he would be able to create something, even with his hurt hands. Maybe this would be the one.
Negligent kids.
Once again, Issamu was left with the hollow feeling of failure. Of not being able to do the very best no matter how much he tried. Only, this time, it was much worse.
His teammates said it wasn't normal, to be so focused on work, but they were still children, in some ways.
Children who had already killed people.
But it was interesting, the way that even after taking someone's life for the first, second, tenth time, and having their bodies splattered with the enemies' blood, both of his teammates showed some childish characteristics from time to time, even if the true innocence was forever destroyed, as with anyone who started the ninja life.
Kurotsuchi was the worst, with her moans and complaints about anything slightly bothering, her sighs and excited exclamations at the smaller things, and constant whining. At first, he thought it was a façade, until he got to know her better and know that yes, she managed to keep the child inside her almost intact.
Deidara was quite different.
Issamu would frequently feel bothered by both his teammates' antics. There he was, doing his very best to complete his missions and any duties as swiftly and competently as possible, and one would act recklessly and misunderstand or purposefully ignore commands, while the other would play with his sculptures and forget the task at hand.
Yet, he could respect Deidara. Once he managed to see past the stigma the boy carried from his village – an insolent, powerful but incompetent idiot – he could admit the blond was above him in some aspects.
Deidara had been the first one among them to kill. In fact, he was the one who was sent in assassination missions; He targeted and destroyed, while Kurotsuchi and Issamu would only kill when the enemy wouldn't give up in battle and couldn't be restrained, and that didn't happen too often. Besides these extra missions the blond was sent to alone or with a team of older fighters, Deidara also trained harder than his teammates. Issamu knew it was because of his bloodline limit. He always admired and respected the Explosion Release as one of the village's treasures. He wouldn't want it, no – he wasn't one for overly damaging, powerful attacks. He was more focused on strategy. He also could see the price that was paid by those with the gift. While Issamu and Kurotsuchi as young children learned how to write well, to have good manners, respect tradition and played with friends, Deidara was being taught how to control the explosive chakra, where to hit to kill or demolish, and receiving taijutsu conditioning.
That was why he had to wonder, frequently, if Deidara's insolent attitude, his love for destruction and obsession with sculpting – the first and the last very rare among the Rock ninja – were just a result of too much pain and suppressed feelings.
But then he would see one of these rare moments when true excitement would shine in his blue eyes, when he had a hard, tiring fight and won, or when he was satisfied with one of his sculptures, and then he was convinced that that was the boy's true personality. If Deidara had no skill or was lazy, he wouldn't be alive right now.
It was also impossible to ignore Kurotsuchi. Most people once considered her nothing more than the privileged granddaughter of the Tsuchikage. but her control of the earth element was impressive for her age, and she could even manipulate a second element, the water – and that was truly impressive – plus the gruesome training she voluntarily went under every day proved that she was more than capable of being part of their team and help them in achieving their goals. He knew she would grow strong, and just needed to be a little more prudent.
Issamu was proud of his ability with genjutsu, even though he would never allow himself to slouch in the development of new and stronger techniques. Casting a high level illusion required not only great chakra control, but also a strong memory and creativity – one that could take on the aspects of nature, people and the elements, and be able to perfectly reproduce them in the opponent's eyes. He would study different settings, places and people at diverse situations and times, in order to be able to project something that would truly trap his enemies. He almost considered it an art, if he were to care about it like Deidara did. Yet the other boy insisted on disdaining his ability.
But he knew there were no true hard feelings among them, and they were a good team, equilibrating and compensating each other's strengths and weaknesses.
Now he would go home, already knowing how terrible the next two weeks would be, starting from tomorrow. But he would not blame his teammates for he also failed to follow protocol. Someday, he would made sure every one of them completed the missions with perfection.
In the end, he was glad for having his two comrades.
As soon as she got to the training ground, she started stretching. Still feeling terribly frustrated about their mission's failure, Kurotsuchi was decided to do her very best in these two weeks of training-only, and no one would stop her and her friends from completing whatever assignment they got after the end of the probation.
As she completed the exercises, her instructor pointed her to a familiar person. Akatsuchi was her cousin and her friend, even though they didn't see each other as frequently as they used to, now that they were part of different teams. He was quite good at taijutsu, and she knew it was almost impossible right now for her to be the best in this spar.
So they fought for a long time, but only because he held back when he had a chance to finish her. The black haired girl tried not to feel bad because of that, and knew she would get better results if ninjutsu was allowed right now.
Her confidence grew once it was time to train her elemental techniques. Right now she wouldn't be using it against anyone, but would try to achieve the same results anyway. Some ninjutsu could be used even without an opponent.
"Earth release: earth shore return."
The ground in front of her flipped upwards like a trapdoor, creating a barrier right in front of her. It was quick to make, hard and useful against frontal attacks, and was good practice before she started trying for stronger defensive techniques.
Making the proper hand seals, she started attacking her own barrier with earth bullets. It was a higher ranking technique than the earth barrier itself, but the shield kept strong. Her defense had always been better than her attacks. She tried to focus her assaults into specific points instead of hitting random places, but the barrier still was up. She had to better her offensive ninjutsu soon.
After some more practice with the earth element, it was the time for her second set. She was not as good with water as she was with earth, but was progressing slowly, and could create attacks that would overwhelm ninjas from her level and below.
"Water release: wild water wave!"
This technique was supposed to divide in two attacks that would hit from different angles.
It flowed out of her mouth as per usual, but was strangely harder to mantain. It was like when she lost the grasp on her chakra, but only, she didn't. Yet when the jet, already looking weak, divided, the right side hit the barrier with practically nonexistent strength – the result she would get from using a hose, honestly – and the other fell to the floor before even reaching it.
People around her looked at her with worried frowns or sneers of contempt, but she paid them no mind. What was happening? She had almost mastered that technique weeks ago, and now was having the same performance as when she tried it for the first time.
Maybe the water element was harder to control than earth, then. She'd just try again. Forming the correct seals – dragon, tiger, hare - in a slow but more secure sequence, she concentrated once more…
To obtain the same terrible result, only now the jet couldn't even divide, and fell to the floor like a dead, splattered snake.
She moaned and stomped her foot in frustration. This made no sense!
"Kurotsuchi!"
She turned at her instructor. The tall man looked at her with an arched brow, his forefinger tapping his chin.
"And what was that, just now?"
"I don't know!", she said. "I was great at this technique the last time I tried it. Really!"
"I know. I saw it. It makes no sense that you have such weak control of it now. What happened?"
"How would I know?" She replied, moodily. "It's like I can't grasp the water with my chakra, or something like that, and it falls all over. But I'm doing everything exactly as I used to."
The man kept looking at her, and she wondered, impatiently, if he would find a solution. This was embarrassing and frustrating. What did it matter to dominate a technique, if it could fail completely and for no reason at any moment?
"The past months have been hard on you", the man finally said, as if reaching an epiphany. "What with being assigned to harder missions than people your age, and with that boy, to make it worse." Kurotsuchi bristled. She knew perfectly which of her teammates the idiot was talking about, but knew better than to protest. It never worked. "And now, you're on probation because of failing your last mission. It must be difficult, since things used to be easier for you, but don't be too hard on yourself, alright?"
The black-haired girl blinked twice, and then realized what he was trying to tell her. "What? That's not it! I'm not being hard on myself. I just performed my earth techniques perfectly a few minutes ago! Didn't you see it? At all?"
The jonin just looked condescendingly at her and walked away, talking about the necessity of leaving one's emotions during battle and more nonsense. Exasperated, she prepared to make the same hand seals, this time the simplest variation of the technique she knew – one of a single jet of water to hit a target. Good to down… well, a civilian. There was a reason it was only used as an introduction to a new water user.
A hand on her shoulder stilled her, though, and she looked up at her plump cousin, who was smiling down at her. She knew he wouldn't say the same things the instructor did; he knew better than to do it.
"Don't be so worried at it. There's no problem. I mean – there is, somehow, but I don't think it's focused on you."
"What?" She was confused. "What are you talking about? What problem?"
"I've been out on a mission to Mist two weeks ago, you know? I think Tsuchikage talked to you about it", he said discreetly, and she nodded. There were signs of Mist starting a tentative alliance with one of Rock's enemy organizations, something that could affect their village in many ways, and some team had been sent to investigate. So it was Akatsuchi's. "Well, this isn't to be told to just about anyone, but I think lots of people already know it anyway – the Mist ninja's abilities with water are terrible. I mean, they are capable of doing quite some damage, but still, for their usual standards… They used to be scary. You know it, you saw it firsthand. But now, even ninja we already know to be strong looked like they were having problems to control the element, and their attacks and defense were clumsy. It was weird."
"That's… crazy." She murmured. "How could lots of people lose their talent with a technique? Including me?"
"We don't know. But those are the facts, and my team was not the only one to see it. People were talking about it before." He scratched his head. "It's not something people would miss, you see? Mist has some of the fiercest ninja in the world. To watch an inept performance from them is something very unusual."
Kurotsuchi didn't know what to say. She just got to know about it now, and was as clueless as her friend. "So… the mission was easy? That's it, and they're weak now?" That would be weird. What would the rest of the world do, if the village of Hidden Mist lost its power? Surely there would be nothing left of it.
"Of course not. Most ninja aren't made just of ninjutsu, you should know that. They're focusing on taijutsu, genjutsu and weapons, now. They are still to be respected, no matter what is happening now."
Kurotsuchi nodded, feeling silly. Of course. But those were still disturbing news. Leaving her cousin – one couldn't just have a merry talk in middle of training for too long without being noticed, after all – she went back to her earth jutsu, and at least that worked comfortingly well.
Easily avoiding the kick aimed for his face, he grabbed her leg and pulled, punching her hard in the cheek but avoiding breaking her nose. Kurotsuchi fell backwards but quickly got back up, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in her cheekbone.
"Let's stop it now."
"Let's not", she protested, but he was already walking back to the stands, where they could rest. The sun had already set, but the ground was still hot. Kurotsuchi followed him with an unhappy frown on her face.
She almost got him with that kick… right? Sitting beside him, she looked up at the blonde. He had a bored look, elbows resting over his knees, face tilted to the side.
But Kurotsuchi could see through the apparently relaxed position.
Deidara had been through another sparring session with his superiors – or fighting, for a spar was supposed to stop when the opponent couldn't get up. When she thought she had it hard, she remembered about her friend.
The Explosion Corps had always been ruthless with its members, voluntary ones or not. She once asked her grandfather why they were trained harder than other shinobi, and he said the bloodline limit didn't manifest too often and so, the ninja that had been 'blessed' with the special chakra had to become perfect weapons for their village.
It wasn't like she couldn't understand this idea. She, too, was one of those who abandoned the possibility of a peaceful life in order to protect their home and make it stronger. But what she couldn't accept or understand was people's attitude towards Deidara. How could his teachers and superiors treat him like that? Rock was not, by any means, a pacific, friendly village, but there was some camaraderie and loyalty between comrades. But those bastards clearly enjoyed hurting the boy, even when he couldn't stand anymore.
Yet Deidara never broke, never asked them to stop or make it easier. He would somehow stay stubborn and proud, even when he couldn't get up from the floor.
Was that brave or foolish?
They stayed in silence for a while, until he moved. Discreetly, she observed as he picked some clay from the always present pouch that rested in his waist, closed his hands over it and start working. She liked it so much when he did it. Since very small, she would observe his sculpting. He was really good then, and more so now. It was nice that he had a hobby. She wished she could create something beautiful on her free time, too.
The birds were her favorites. He had to have some book on different species all over the world, for some were unlike any she had ever seen before, and surely he couldn't have taken them all from his imagination. Deidara created so many different things she could only conceive he had a very big shelf on his house, full of the most varied creatures. She would never know.
And he was such a good shinobi. Kurotsuchi admired those who were strong. She always pushed herself hard as to be as good a kunoichi as she could be, and fulfill the expectations her village and her grandfather had of her. She wanted to be powerful and respected and useful. Most people who observed Deidara's antics thought he was just a careless boy who would always be the chunin useful to destroy some mountain that was in the way and maybe sire a child with the explosion release ability, but those who spent more time with him like her knew better.
Deidara was very talented, and while he didn't loudly proclaim undying loyalty to his village, his progress was astounding. When he had a worthy opponent, he would show he had much more than a bloodline limit. He was so faster, so stronger, so more powerful than the average chunin. He was born to be a shinobi and would probably be jonin level someday, but no one would think it prudent to give the unstable boy who refused to follow the plans a higher ranking position.
Still, she looked forward to his growth. He would climb to greater heights than anyone expected him to, that was for sure.
A few more minutes, and he was done. She took a peek, and loved it. She would usually praise him and then go back to whatever she was doing, but perhaps today…
"Can I keep it?" She asked softly, before she could stop herself. It would be so nice to have something of the boy who was like an older brother to her.
The blond looked surprised. He should be, as she was seven years old the last time she asked for one of his little sculptures. Back then, he crushed it, saying it wasn't good enough. She never asked again, until now.
He looked hesitant, but then extended his open hand to her, the white bird resting on his palm. Surprised, she smiled and reached towards it. His sculptures were always so close to the real things it looked like this one would spread its wings at any moment and fly. It was endearing.
His hand closed into a fist, like before, back in their failure of a mission.
"What good will it do, gathering dust in some box with your little trinkets, huh?"
The smashed pieces of what was the figure she admired fell through his fingers, and she felt an unexpected surge of anger. What was his problem? Not only he denied her request, but also destroyed the piece in what looked like a childish provocation. She wanted to tell him it would not be placed in some box, but in her nightstand, with the few treasured objects she liked to touch or look at. Instead, she silently got up and started walking away from him. There was no need to turn back to know he wouldn't be following. He tolerated her presence better than he did other people's, that much was obvious, but that didn't mean he would care about how she felt about him.
If Kurotsuchi ever entered his house, she would discover there were no shelves full of beautiful little figures and, from the mess in the floor, that he always destroyed everything he created.
The Fourth Spring celebration was one of the biggest events in the Rock village. The civilians and the shinobi, men, women and children, the rich and the poor would gather and be a part of the festival that announced the start of the planting season, when the food price and the taxes would drop, and when they could finally use the earth again. Those who struggled to make their ends meet wouldn't have to worry about not being able to support their families for some time, and those more financially fortunate wouldn't need to pay so much for imported goods, and could also develop their fortune by selling what they grew here. The streets further away from the center of the village were dark and silent. No one would want to miss the gathering.
No one but Deidara, at least. He sat in the small bedroom of the second floor. It was silent there too, everyone else gone. No children crying, no people laughing, no steps on the apartment above his, or the noise of the dragging of furniture or even the dogs' barking. The animals probably knew they had a good chance of getting some free food in the place all of the humans decided to go to at the same time.
It would be peaceful, if his breathing was not so harsh, if his heart was not beating so fast and strong it felt as if his entire body was reverberating in synchrony with it.
If his blood was not burning so hot, if his head did not hurt so much and, specially, if he weren't feeling so much hatred.
He was so tired of it all.
He looked at his work of the past two weeks. That ugly thing could not be called art. It could not be called interesting or good or anything positive, no matter what these fools said. They would give him smiles and praise him and say he had so much talent. But he did not. He thought he was special, since he was a child. He would look down at others and be happy that he was different, because he could create such special things with his hands, and he would be only getting better and better, and someday he would be a great artist and surprise the world. And then maybe, just maybe, everyone would open their eyes and see the world as he saw it, and realize that it was a waste of life to wear fake expressions and fight for stupid causes and go through the same routine every day, because life was short and fleeting and should be beautiful, not a wait for when they would become old and worn and retire and die, without leaving anything in this world but their equally useless offspring.
He got up slowly and clumsily walked towards the statue. The crouched kunoichi looked back at him, positioned ready to attack. Her eyes should show some thrill, but no matter how much he tried, she still looked like a corpse positioned in a failed attempt to look alive.
Trying for the first time to create a human had been a mistake. It only highlighted the fact that his creations were still painfully far from art.
No one ever saw this one. He had spent weeks on it, using the free time he got from his ban of missions at night, first completing the image he had on his head, and then adding and removing details, changing a little bit here and a lot there, trying to infuse some emotion into the thing, make it at least a little closer to what he had in mind, something he could be proud of. Every night he would kneel before her and try to discover what was missing, like a medic nin trying to resuscitate a fallen comrade and finally giving up, because there was no way to put life back – or in this case, for the first time – in their eyes.
No one would ever see her. She was the same as all the others he tried to make beautiful and failed – his aborted creations, born from his hands already dead.
Putting his hands on each side of the white, still form, he knew this one was too big to simply crush in a fist, so he called his bloodline limit and watched his last work disappear, becoming dust and little pieces under the force, heat and noise of the twin explosions.
Deidara kept still as he watched the last little pieces fall in the floor and the air slowly clear of the debris. He felt better, and not just because of the release of energy. He felt better after seeing his creation explode. There was some emotion, some meaning in seeing it being destroyed in such a dramatic and noisy way, like a more fitting funeral for something he put his mind and effort on. The frustration felt at his constant failures was still there, but it eased a little.
A couple of determined knocks made him jump.
Kurotsuchi knocked on the door twice, feeling more than a little annoyed. This enormous festival happened only once every four years, yet this antisocial idiot that was his teammate insisted in locking himself inside that ugly apartment of his. She never entered there – was never invited, and Deidara was quite frank when saying he didn't want her to visit, at all – but she was sure it was as poor in the inside as it was in the outside. Sometimes she forgot he lived in one if the poorest streets in the village.
A few seconds passed, and then the door opened wide. Well, that was unexpected. She thought he would be more secretive about his place, peek through a slim opening at her or ask for a password or something like that.
Looking up at him, her tirade about how he should participate in the village's important moments died.
His face was red and covered in sweat. His chest went up and down with his fast breathing. The blond hair was unbound and all messed, and his eyes looked tired and, at the same time, crazed.
This was what he looked like in their mission two weeks ago, bar the tired part, when she could feel his weird chakra spiking and feared he was temporarily insane. Right now he was not as bad as he was then, but almost there.
"What do you want? Huh?"
She started, having forgotten she was the one who knocked and was expected to say something. Divided between worry and intimidation, her determination gone, she just said in a voice that sounded like a pathetic apology, "I was wondering if you don't want to go to the festival."
From the confused frown on his face it was as if he had forgotten, but surely he would have wondered about where the rest of the world had gone? Looking behind him, she tried to see what had him so distracted.
It was nothing like she expected. While yes, the place was as poor as she expected it to be, the horrible mess there was something she thought she would only find in the Explosion Corps. Pieces of what she recognized as Deidara's clay were everywhere. The floor was damaged and burnt, and so was half of the furniture. The air vibrated with chakra she recognized from the aftermaths of a battle with anyone who had the explosive bloodline limit.
What in the world was happening here?
Deidara became alert when he heard her gasp, and suddenly blocked her vision, his glaring eyes demanding she focused her attention solely on him.
"If I wanted to, I would be there, huh. Not like I could have forgotten, with everyone chattering about it for weeks. Is that all? Huh?"
Kurotsuchi wanted to say it wasn't, and that she was worried about him, and wanted him to go out and listen to the music, buy something he liked, laugh with his fellow citizens and maybe find a girl to have a crush on, all of the things normal people his age would be doing tonight. But the air around her still roared with what sounded like the leftovers of killing intent, ready to come back at the slightest provocation, and the scene she could observe was definitely caused by Deidara, who was obviously very unstable. Her instincts told her to leave, and she decided to obey. "Yes, that's all… good night."
She only hoped he would be alright, and that the whispers and murmurs about the boy's growing insanity were just nonsense, even though everything right now proved the contrary.
The festival was over, but its results were clear. The streets were being cleared from leftovers and decorations, there were still some foreigners walking around, and everyone looked noticeably content. He could probably blow up a bomb here and the survivors would smile and wave at him.
Shaking his head to banish the ridiculous thought, Deidara walked towards the Kage office, below which was the underground cache where two guards would be waiting. Back in active duty, he strived for action outside the hellish training he went under the Explosion Corps the past two weeks, but not even that could change the worry that had been occupying his mind.
It was interesting that, after a good night of sleep, the actions that sounded so rational yesterday disturbed him so much now.
He could remember every moment with details, and every emotion. That time had been one of his worst, and he had been so close to destroy the whole building and, maybe, the whole street. And the feelings! Nothing else made sense but his art, the destruction running through his veins, the heat and his trembling limbs.
Kurotsuchi's reaction to the whole scenario was fresh in his mind, and he couldn't blame her for being so frightened. It scared him, too.
He was going insane.
That was the harsh reality; what he heard since his childhood was, after all, true, and he saw it with more clarity now than ever.
His bloodline limit was taking control of him. While he already knew that the best way to stop it was to rid himself of every excess of energy, the idea of having to periodically engage in violence in order to preserve his mind sounded so binding, so constraining. He was used to maim, attack and destroy – even enjoyed it – but he couldn't and wouldn't become a slave of the explosion release.
Moreover, the stress and sickness could be interfering with his creations. How could he expect to create true art when he was physically and mentally ill?
This village was the only one that had shinobi with this ability, or so he had been told. Surely he could find information about his problem.
With that in mind, he had gone to the Tsuchikage and asked permission to research about his bloodline limit. While Rock had an open library, scrolls about one of their most powerful abilities would, for obvious reasons, be hidden from general public.
Being granted access to the underground chamber that held the precious knowledge was easier than he expected it to be. The blond was already prepared for a refusal, since the powerful leader probably wouldn't want someone who had a reputation for being careless and impulsive near the village's important data. Yet here he was, allowed to research as much as he wanted. There were two jonin level shinobi who were following and observing him, but he expected no less. Anything else would have made him suspect this was a trap.
Positioning himself in front of one of the shelves, he started to search. While there was a considerable amount of scrolls there, when the subject was just the explosion release, a few sections were all he had at his disposal. He opened the first one, ready for an avalanche of technical vocabulary he wouldn't understand, but it was quite simpler than the advanced genjutsu texts he once tried to understand and failed.
This one explained about the necessity of invoking medical chakra to cover the surfaces of skin where the explosion was supposed to come from, and talked about treatment for accidental burns on the user. He was so used to these techniques it felt like he had already read that scroll many times, even though this was the first time he held it.
The next one was a theory, in general, about what allowed some people – people like him – to wield such power, and studies and experiments trying to transfer the ability to ordinary people.
Deidara snorted. Of course this one stopped in speculation and blind guessing, and showed no true results. People often forgot about working on their own abilities while trying to acquire other people's, and failed.
And so it went, in the opening and closing of scrolls, and carefully returning them to their right places, lest he bother his guards and got dragged out. Sometimes he dismissed a scroll as soon as he opened it; other times, he would get interested in what he found even if it was not related to his main objective, and tried to absorb as much knowledge as he could in the short time left. There were some interesting techniques that could prove useful, like the Explosive Palm, that allowed the user to deflect objects back to the enemy.
Reaching the end and already disappointed for not finding any traces of a way to control his explosive chakra, he pulled one of the scrolls at the bottom right corner and opened it with rapid and fluid motions.
It had his name.
And not just as a name among other names of people with the kekkei genkai; This scroll was all about him, with diagrams, charts and speculations about his body and mind.
It was… disturbing, to find something like this here.
He read thoroughly, twice. It contained his basic information like date of birth, blood type, physical characteristics and details about his parents.
He never heard of saw anything about his father and mother. They had died when he was very young and could have been MIA shinobi or civilian casualties, for all he knew. Because, If he were to be honest, he never cared much about finding information about the people who put him in this world.
A quick look proved him right in his disinterest. Just a couple of unknown civilians, who never saw battle and, apparently, never did anything extraordinary, either. The bloodline limit must have been dormant in one of them, for a person with the explosion release wouldn't be allowed to refuse to serve as a shinobi – Deidara knew that too well. With disregard to the brief information about his family he turned to other topics, even though he did memorize their names, and the name they had given him when he was born. It wasn't Deidara, and he quietly wondered about who changed his name, but didn't care enough to keep the trail of thought.
Half an hour of studying and he knew that yes, this scroll was all about him and his chakra that was an anomaly even among the Explosion Corps, but it didn't have any useful information – just pointed problems without any solutions. And that he had a strong allergy to acetylsalicylic acid. Well, that explained the nurses' refusal to give him anything for his headaches.
Instincts told him to close the scroll and tuck it in his jacket, but the stares he could feel on his back made him know better. No matter how uncomfortable he was about leaving the thing for anyone who entered the place to read, he had to. It was Iwa's property, and not his.
Halfheartedly, he took a look at the last scrolls. This search was proving almost fruitless and he already started worrying about the next step he should take to try to control his chakra.
His wandering mind didn't miss the symbols at the top of the scroll he just opened, though.
He almost jumped, but managed to keep his position unchanged and his breath even. This was a forbidden scroll. He knew the kind, having been sent on two missions to retrieve those. They had powerful techniques that were forbidden to use or teach and only the village's Kage could reach for them. Any tentative to steal or learn or do anything about those were considered treason.
What the hell was one of those doing in his hands?
The best action would be to alert the guards behind him. Or maybe he should just leave the thing here and go straight to the Tsuchikage to inform him about it. Yet, the curiosity about its contents was too strong. It was probably related to his bloodline limit, and to be ranked at such a level of danger, it couldn't be something irrelevant or weak.
Against his better judgment he kept his reading, carefully hiding the symbols at the top and making it look like a normal scroll. A quick and discreet glance at his back showed the two jonin were paying more attention to the way he handled the scrolls as to be sure he wouldn't try to take any with him than about what was actually inside the scroll – understandable, since it wasn't like there should be such a secret in here.
Still, he couldn't be caught looking at it.
A sweep of his eyes grabbed the most important parts.
- to infuse objects with one's own chakra –
Detailed graphics with the hand seals and necessary procedures in order to achieve something he never heard about.
- could achieve remote control when done properly –
Topics pointing the benefits this could bring in battle, and what the objects should be like if the user wanted to succeed.
- Timed explosions at a great distance –
A technique that would break the barriers every explosionist had learned to live with.
- stronger power and range than normally possible –
And if the person who wrote this thing was not exaggerating, this would multiply the destruction power by several times, making someone with the explosion release much more dangerous than anyone would expect.
- like giving life to unmoving things –
A tense pause.
Like giving life? To unmoving things?
That was all the boy got to see before forcing himself to close the scroll and put it back with the others, as if it was one of those of little interest to him. It would do no good to show excessive attention to it and so, he could not dwell in any of the topics. In a sea of excitement and fear and conflicting thoughts, he still managed to keep his face composed, his breathing gentle, his gestures as they were before he found the kinjutsu.
He reached for the last scrolls not inspected yet. What would the two behind him think if he suddenly lost interest in what was left, after such a long search? Careful to inspect every last one with what looked like keen interest, all he wanted to do was to pick that one scroll back and absorb every last drop of information from it.
After twenty more minutes of pretending, he got up slowly, and those who called him incompetent and inept at self-control would never know there were so many rushing emotions behind his bored, disappointed mask.
Like giving life to unmoving things.
Unmoving things like a doll, or a puppet? Or maybe, perhaps, a rigid sculpture of white clay?
Still with his escorts, Deidara walked up the stairs, the scrolls appearance and position perfectly memorized. It was only proper, since he would be back to retrieve it.
The mission ban ended the day after the festival. Their team was officially active again. Alongside her dark haired teammate, Kurotsuchi presented herself to the Tsuchikage to report themselves as ready to work.
Deidara wasn't there. Issamu was obviously irked with their teammate's absence, while she could only worry and, for what felt like the millionth time, wonder if she did the right thing by leaving Deidara alone in his apartment yesterday. At that moment it looked like the best thing to do, but what if he somehow needed help? If something had happened to him?
Her grandfather's voice called for them to enter. She quickly wiped the preoccupied frown from her face before entering. He wouldn't approve of it.
"Tsuchikage-sama", were the twin greetings from her teammate and herself. "Our ban is lifted and we would like to know where we are needed", Issamu continued by himself.
The man's stern eyes scrutinized their bowed forms. Kurotsuchi could only hope Deidara wasn't in much trouble for not being here on time.
"We don't know where our teammate is, sir", she said, imagining that was what the man was wondering about. "Last time I saw him-"
"He is busy right now and I believe he won't be available for today", the Tsuchikage interrupted her, surprising them both. "Go to training ground three, Kurotsuchi, and follow the same routine you did while barred from active duty. You, boy, back on patrolling the borders for today. The two of you report back here with your colleague tomorrow."
While relieved that the Tsuchikage knew where Deidara was, she still wished he would share more information. Knowing better than to question, though, she voiced her assent and so did Issamu, and they both left the building.
Once away from the oppressive atmosphere, Issamu broke the silence as they walked together. "Do you know what happened to Deidara?"
Kurotsuchi almost said what happened yesterday. It was a twisting anxiety in her chest, and she just wanted to let it out, to tell someone about it.
But it wouldn't be appropriate to talk about something she still didn't understand well. That would only create speculation, and the last thing she wanted was for word to spread and only reaffirm most of the villager's belief that her nii-san was too dangerous a person.
"I have no idea. I was expecting him to be with us today, too."
Part of what she said was true, and he seemed to believe her. This day would be like the ones from when she was banned – long, strenuous training all day alongside other shinobi and under the supervision of jonin teachers. Deidara, being part of the Explosion Corps, rarely trained with them. Because of it, she almost didn't see him sometimes.
Issamu waved her goodbye and went to the village's gates, where he would be assigned a team and an area to survey. She waved back, with a weak smile. Sometimes he was overly serious, but he was a nice boy.
They were a good team, she thought as she reached the training ground and started to stretch. Her taijutsu was not impressive, but her affinity with the earth element was the path to become a very useful ninjutsu user. It was the village's specialty, and there was a lot to learn. Issamu had no affinity with any nature element, but was a very good close range fighter, and talented with genjutsu in a way she probably would never be. And Deidara was not only a proficient fighter, but also had the explosion release that increased his attack's destructiveness dramatically. All of his talent with ninjutsu and taijutsu made it funny to know that he was completely useless when it came to illusion techniques.
One of the instructors indicated Akatsuchi as her sparring partner, like before.
It must be hard for Deidara to be at the Explosion Corps, she thought, as she usually did when sparring with a friend. There was no one there close to his age and, from what little he told her, they didn't like him much. The discipline was stricter there than anywhere else, he was in the hospital much more frequently than her, and sometimes did extra missions that involved assassinations and demolition. She tried not to think about the first. They were in a shinobi village and hardships were routine; someday Issamu and her would go through the same. Deidara just had to do it first.
Late afternoon came, and she was dismissed. Going straight home for a good shower and maybe, afterwards, go buy some new clothes – the ones she wore right now were in a bad state – She suddenly saw a flash of a familiar shade of yellow in the corner of her vision.
There was the subject of her thoughts, walking away from what looked like the Kage office's direction. A quick look at his usual, bored expression and apparent good physical condition had her feeling excessively relieved. She smiled and ran towards him, not even caring she was bouncing every three steps like a little girl. He was well.
"Deidara-nii!"
His blue eyes widened a little. Then he smiled. It was not a wide, gleeful smile, but it was pleasant and, while she was not expecting it, it made her very happy.
The smile would become a punch if she hugged him, though, so Kurotsuchi took a wise step back, still looking up at him. "How are you?"
"I'm well, huh", he arched an eyebrow. "What with the question?"
What with the question? You looked like you were ready to go into a killing rampage yesterday, she wanted to say, but controlled herself. It would do no good to press on the subject. But still, it was impossible to ignore what happened completely.
"I… I mean, we, Issamu and I, were worried when you didn't appear today", she started, and then decided to let it all out, "And I also was very preoccupied after yesterday. You looked a little sick –" a little insane "- and I just left you there. But, I want you to be well. So you should know you can ask me anything, if you need help. Okay? Alright". She forced herself to shut up. That was a little corny, but it was true, no matter what he thought about it.
True enough, he was frowning, but his reaction wasn't what she expected.
"I'm better now. I was kinda ill yesterday, huh. It's got something to do with my chakra. So I was out today to find a solution and all's well now, yeah?"
Kurotsuchi blinked. Well, that sounded like the truth. She heard people talking about the blond having some chakra problem, but with all nonsense they usually spoke about him, she had dismissed the information as just one more false rumor.
"I'm glad. Do we see you tomorrow?"
"Yeah. Bye."
He calmly walked away and she went to her own home, considerably happier. Her fear of him sounded so silly now, and she even felt bad for it. Deidara just had a problem yesterday, today he got help, and tomorrow he would be better. Everything would be alright.