Author's Note: Yeah, so my sister wanted a creepy Deidara fic, so, here you go. I don't think some of it flows right, but that just might by my being insecure about my work. The last line, the quote, is from the poem Justice Prevails by Orm.
The Art of Falling
Deidara is engulfed in heat. Maybe it was on purpose, maybe it wasn't. But it's all going down now and at least he can feel the heat.
It's the middle of the night in winter, and the light can probably be seen for miles around, and the heat felt for at least a half mile radius.
If Deidara wanted a bang, he sure as hell got one.
He knows he can run, get out of the house now and live to see another day, but when will he ever get another chance like this--like the very essence of art will take him out--this is beautiful, and he will never need anything else. So he stays--he lets the heat engulf him, he can fell his skin cracking, but that's okay because by god he has never been more beautiful than now.
The heat has never been more intense and he has never felt more real or alive than now.
Deidara has the urge to laugh, whether it be insane or hysterical or whatever the hell his laugh sounds like, he wants to fall down laughing, because all this happiness is making him jittery.
The type of happiness he's never felt before, when he showed his art to other people or took out his eye, never this much happiness. The type of happiness that makes you do crazy stuff, like running into something you're not ready for, or getting drunk and killing something, or staying inside and letting yourself burn to death.
If only someone was here to share it with…
But then again, they all got to experience it, just not with Deidara.
Because the rest of the Akatsuki are either already dead or dying, caught asleep or in a room with no escape or just in the main bulk, the main heat of the fire.
At least he's going down with his friends. But at least means regret, and, be it by accident or not, there is absolutely no regret.
It's only then that he can see Sasori, standing about 10 feet away, out of Hiruko and nearly surrounded by fire. He's screaming for Deidara to get out of the house, because he's blocking Sasori's only way out, and if he leaves they both can live, at least.
Deidara shakes his head and looks up into the heat. He's laughing, even though Sasori can only tell by the movement of his mouth. He says something else to Deidara, trying as hard as he can to get out, about how he's made of fucking wood and that he's going to live forever, even if Deidara isn't, so he better leave the house or get out of his fucking way.
Deidara looks back down and says something to Sasori above the roar, in a laughing sing-song voice, but it's drowned out in the noise of the flame and the bomb.
Sasori runs forward and grabs Deidara's arm, jerking him away, but Deidara knows that the fire's about to reach his art.
In about thirty seconds everything in the house that's still alive is gonna die.
Sasori understands Deidara's expression and looks at him in horror.
Deidara smiles again, wide, and repeats his earlier comment in the same voice:
"It's art, yeah! Told you I'd go out with a…"
Bang.
They're nothing but monsters, and justice prevails.