Chapter Two – You Burn So Beautifully
Deidara stepped back a few paces and flipped his blonde ponytail over his shoulder. He tilted his head sideways, bounced a couple times on his feet, and put two fingers on his chin. Reviewing art took a great deal of concentration, and with the roaring engines of evening traffic echoing from the main road, that was proven difficult at the moment. The teen squinted his gleaming eyes and bent to dump the remaining paint cans into his large canvas bag. He was standing in a little alleyway – all brick walls and rain gutters – shivering slightly in the cold pre-winter air. Just in front of him was the wall of the local bar-and-club combo – the one that got all the customers, not because of the high quality interior, but because the downtown district was mostly made up of wannabes and has-beens that spent their free hours drowning life's sorrows in alcohol. Go figure.
The self-proclaimed terrorist examined his work with fresh pride. Bar walls were typically filled with spray painted decorations, but this little place had been new when Deidara first grew interested in the work, and therefore had belonged solely to him since the beginning. As a result of buildings such as these being the popular gathering spot for gang members, police vehicles normally waited on every intersection containing a club. However, no one seemed to care about this backwater tavern surrounded by human filth, making it a convenient spot for the only graffiti artist in the neighborhood.
His creations were splattered across the wall, each one distinctive, an explosion of color and vibrancy. They were more abstract then any concrete shape, meant to represent feelings, not something you could pin a name to. Every piece could be interpreted differently to individual civilians, yet they all retained the same vibe. Art isn't supposed to last forever, though, Deidara thought as he widened his vision to take in the entire masterpiece, One day, I'm going to come back and paint this wall white. That way someone else can come and start over. He sighed with satisfaction and slung his bag onto his shoulder, loving the metallic sound the bottles made as they clinked together. Then he looked down at himself.
Hardly presentable, but I'm just popping in for a quick shot… Hardly presentable, indeed. His tie-dye shirt was dappled with paint residue, making it look like a rainbow had thrown up on his chest. The pair of jeans he sported were frayed at the ends and patched in several slightly awkward places. He had wisely tied his hair up into a high ponytail before working with his "equipment", but the fringe of his bangs had gotten splattered with gold and orange. Ah, well. It would just take a few seconds to down a small glass of beer, and boy did he need it tonight. Most of the bar residents would either be too depressed (or too drunk) to care, anyway.
Deidara walked around to the far side of the building. The front wall was plain brick, the windows had green shutters, and the door (as the blonde knew from experience) could be latched three times from the inside. All in all, very old fashioned. The bar faced a busy road, clogged with cars spitting black smoke onto the concrete – especially at this time of night. There were about two inches of sidewalk space granted to pedestrians at this part of town, and with the drunken antics of late walkers, there had been many an accident on this street.
The blonde glanced around casually as he swung himself over the rail of the stairway leading to the oaken front door. Katsu was an unpredictable Fringe that struck out quickly – but certainly not quietly. They were the closest thing Chicago had to a bombing squad, what with their hand-held grenades and colorful smoke bombs. Their deadly act, however, wasn't just smoke and mirrors. Involuntary to the core, the group prided itself on attacking their targets swiftly, and going about it all flashy and arrogant. Then when their work was done, they just…disappeared. Vanished off the face of the earth, so that occasionally even the Board didn't know where they had gone.
Up until a month ago, Deidara had been one of them.
Yes, he admitted it – he had enjoyed the thrill, the rush of exhilaration and the wonderful sense of freedom…but as he had said to Ino, those days were now behind him. Just behind him, but gone for good. Maybe.
Still, Katsu wasn't a group you just up and left. They always came back for revenge in the end, even if they waited a decade to launch a surprise encounter. That was how they lured you into a false sense of security. That was how they made it more fun.
If you left a Fringe – any Fringe, really – then you had to watch your back for years afterward. Deidara was never the careful type, but at the moment he just couldn't afford to die. His sister needed him, after all. Even if he was quite useless at the present time. Katsu had paid good money for him to stay, and now he had no way to keep up with their monthly supply of food, the mounting challenges – even the vending machine quarters were starting to add up. He needed a job. He needed to keep a low profile. He needed a drink. Hence, the bar visit.
Ino would, of course, kill him if he got so drunk that he passed out over the counter, but tonight he would play it cool. After all, wit was a very good thing to keep about you whilst being marked by psychopaths – particularly psychopaths with bombs. Stepping up to the door, he pushed it open without bothering to knock.
The Deathbed bar/night club was a very relaxed, casual place with an almost meandering atmosphere. Dark, mahogany-stained tables and stools were scattered haphazardly over an ugly shag carpet. An electric fireplace with a stone mantel sat stoically in the back, looming like a welcoming guard to all those who needed its warmth and sense of security. Deidara, however, headed straight for the counter like he always did and swung himself into the stool on the far left.
The wrap-around granite surface was smooth and polished, and Deidara stared at its reflective, mirror-like quality for a moment as he contemplated the choices in his head. Deciding on something simple, he raised his blue eyes up until they met those of the bartender. He was a thickset, surly looking thug with a buzz-cut and traces of a mustache, and he scowled at the blonde with an unpleasant, scrutinizing expression.
Deidara scowled back full-force, then remembered that he didn't really want to start any fights at the time being. He eliminated the silent challenge in his face and muttered, "Shot of mild beer. Make it quick, un." He slapped a five dollar bill onto the counter and propped his chin up on his palms. "Go on, I haven't got all night."
The bartender glared at the money. "You really think that's going to cut it, kid?"
That did it. Deidara looked down at the crumpled bill, raised an eyebrow and said, "Oh, I suppose you're right. Five dollars – I am being generous, aren't I, hm?" He removed the paper and took out four ones.
The bartender stared in disbelief before stuttering, "H-hey, wait a sec…"
In a flash, the blonde had the man by the shirt collar and was pulling his head down to eye-length, "Keep talking, and it's three," He growled, narrowing his eyes dangerously.
"But I –"
"Keep. Talking." Deidara tightened his grip and hardened his gaze.
The bartender caved. "Yeah, yeah alright…"
Deidara released him and returned to his comfortable position, leaning on the surface of the counter as the man rubbed his neck and backed away, taking the money with him like the greedy pig he was.
"Damn, Blondie – that was one hell of a sass attack."
Deidara squinted, but could barely make out the form standing behind his right shoulder – it was dark in the club, apart from the hazy lemon projector lights skimming the interior at random intervals. The blonde scowled, then turned back toward the counter. Funny enough, he really wasn't in the mood to make a new "friend" over a few pints tonight. The stranger, however, didn't seem to understand the implication. He slowly simmered his way onto the stool beside Deidara in that deliberate way of making sure your every move was noticed.
Now that Deidara could see him more properly, he stared. Sure, you got a lot of strange characters in Deathbed – particularly on Friday nights – but this guy was just…odd. Whereas most people nowadays dyed their hair all sorts of crazy colors, used bright, gleaming contacts for varying iris shades, and drowned themselves in makeup and artificial products, this man's unique appearance looked…natural. His hair was slicked to perfection, and the tips touched the upturned collar of his leather jacket. Not only that, but it also had a silvery-white luster to it. His eyes were dull, but a curious cross of indigo and magenta. He looked like some sort of body builder, with toned muscles visible under his thin white shirt. His jeans were falling slightly past his hips, but he didn't seem to care. It gave him more attention, after all.
The man noted Deidara's curious gaze with satisfaction, and smirked slightly as he leaned across the counter. "Hey, I'm new around here; but Jashin, I sure hope you're a regular at this place. What's your name, chick?"
Immediately, Deidara recoiled at the dreaded word. Chick. Chick? Oh no. No, he did not just go there.
The blonde faked a flirtatious smile and raised his voice a few pitches. "Oh, that doesn't really matter, does it? I think we both know what you're interested in…"
The man's smirk grew wider and more obnoxious. Deidara tried not to gag. "You catch on quick. I like that." He leaned closer, until Deidara could smell the stale beer on his breath. "I like that a lot. What do you say we…"
Deidara hastily interrupted him, "Hey, you!" He called, and the bartender turned toward him with an ugly glare. The blonde smiled and winked. "A standard vodka for my friend here." He jerked his head toward the stranger beside him.
The man leaned back again. "How'd you know what I prefer? Smart too, huh?" He said this with the implication that he didn't like the "smart" ones.
Deidara giggled. "Just call it…woman's intuition." Your breath reeks of it, moron. Of course, the fact that he had been in here enough times to recognize the smells of different spirits was rather concerning. "So, you said you were new around town, un?" His speech impediment (beyond his control) still sounded masculine, but the man didn't seem to notice. Despite what Deidara thought of the retard's weak attempts at flirting with him, he was still curious. You didn't get a lot of newbies around seedy downtown Chicago.
"Oh yeah, that," The man frowned, as if not exactly sure why the hot blonde chick in the bar was interested in anything but his workouts and apartment location. Then he relaxed into the customary alcohol phase once again. "Name's Hidan. I'd give you my last as well, but I don't think you're interested." He winked.
"Of course not. What brings you down here?"
"I'm meeting a friend. Well, when I say friend…let's just leave it at this – I owe him one, and he is not the type you want to piss off."
"So why are you meeting him, un?" Deidara questioned with less enthusiasm, beginning to get bored as he waited for the drinks. It was probably just some stupid reason that Hidan was trying to make seem impressive. Besides, he knew that if he got home too late, Ino would freak out and go all crazy on him, demanding to know where he had been for the last five hours. Speaking of which, he still had to come up with a believable excuse…
"Sorry, can't tell you that." Hidan stated, looking slightly more sober then he had about two seconds ago. That peaked Deidara's interest, but before he could ask any more questions, the silver-haired man grinned and looked the blonde up and down with a scrutinizing gaze that made anger rise up in his chest. "So, you're an artist huh? I'm guessing…spray painter?"
Deidara blinked, genuinely surprised. "How did you know that, hm?"
Hidan leaned forward and brushed his bangs off his forehead. "Well, the paint in your hair and shirt, for one. Not to mention I can smell it all over you. So, artist. Then there's the fact that people working with brushes and canvases don't usually get residue all over themselves unless they're retarded, or something. Looks like it was a blast of paint you just couldn't control. Not to mention…" Suddenly, he was holding a can of candy-apple red, flipping it over in his hand. Deidara did a double take, looking down at his bag, then back up and Hidan, scowling. He couldn't believe he had managed to swipe it. He had barely even bent down, for crying out loud! Hidan looked at him and smirked. "So, spray painter."
Deidara forced his expression into a charming smile. "You got it, un." Damn. He's smarter than I thought.
Finally, the bartender came back with the drinks (Deidara was sure he was going slowly on purpose) slamming the glasses down in front of them. "That's another five for the big one, over there." He muttered to Deidara. The blonde dug in his pocket and pulled out four ones, just to spite the unpleasant man. The latter scowled, but didn't comment as he plucked the money off the counter and left muttering curses.
Hidan reached over and dunked half the mug in his mouth, dribbling some foamy orange liquid down his chin. "Ah, just what I needed! So, Blondie…" He set the cup down and Deidara tensed, but he simply lit up a cigarette and sat back watching the blonde. "I guess I don't have to ask what a damn gorgeous chick like you does around here."
Underneath his cool façade, Deidara seethed, but managed to contain himself. "Oh, well, I'm a graffiti artist…"
"That it?"
The blonde froze. "What?" He asked, slowly and deliberately. Hidan didn't seem to notice that he had just crossed a critical line into the danger zone. He chugged more of drink before blowing smoke right in Deidara's face.
"Is that all you do? Cause to be perfectly honest…" He leaned closer and put an arm around Deidara's shoulders, "All that back-street alley art just looks like crap to me."
If Hidan thought the impulsive teen was going to agree with him and laugh and smile some more, he was wrong. Dead wrong. Deidara's moment of triumph had come. Still grinning, the blonde grabbed Hidan's mug of beer, lifted it as if he were going to take a sip, and smashed it to the floor. The bar went completely silent. Hidan slowly retracted his arm while looking blankly at the broken glass beneath his stool. "What the hell?"
Deidara stood up as he swallowed the shot of beer in one gulp, slammed the glass onto the counter and wiped his mouth on his sleeve in the same motion. Then he leaned right into Hidan's face and said as simply as he could. "I. Am. A. Guy. Un." Swinging his bag over his shoulder and swiping the bottle of paint from Hidan's hand, he turned to leave. That is, until the silver-haired freak decided to say one more word.
"B-Bitch!"
Deidara turned slowly, his blonde hair swishing into place behind him. Then, just as slowly, a sick smile spread across his face. "I believe you mean, bastard." With a flick of his wrist, he had a smoke grenade balancing on his palm. A nearly harmless little thing that spewed a drug with effects equivalent to alcohol, it knocked out all present for several hours before they woke up to horrible hangovers and violent retching. It was the only thing Deidara managed to salvage off of Ino, with the excuse that it could get him out of a tight spot if the need arose. Pulling the pin and throwing it to the floor, Deidara shouted his old Fringe phrase out of instinct, "Katsu!"
Grey smoke erupted from the tiny circular object, immediately enveloping the bartender and Hidan, his primary targets. It spread quickly to the rest of the Deathbed, until it filled every corner. The blonde covered his nose and mouth with his thick sleeve and made his way to the door, stepping nimbly over the shapes of slumped, drunken men. He held on to his bag tightly in case he tripped, not wanting to lose any of the precious cans. Spray paint was expensive, after all, so he had to be careful what happened to it.
Once back out into the cold night air, it occurred to him that he had just broken his promise to Ino for the second time that night. Blowing up the bar after making a scene was about as stupid as it could get. Shrugging, the blonde made his way down the street. He hadn't planned for it to happen, though he had been expecting to lose his temper eventually and get himself in trouble with the Board once again.
All in all, it had been a very typical night for Deidara Aozora.
"So, we gonna blow it?"
Tora looked over at Kurotsuchi Ember and tried not to grin at her simplistic way of putting the complicated out in the open like that; all no-nonsense, cool headed and down to earth. Once again he admired her pixie cut black hair, charcoal gray eyes and calm demeanor as she crouched beside him under the crescent moon. They were perched on the rooftop of the Bathhouse/Salon – about the only one in the downtown district. Across from them was a perfectly innocent-looking, whitewashed convenience store. Only this particular building – for tonight – was special. It was about to become art.
Tora grinned and deftly slid a hand grenade from the pocket of his gray hoodie, throwing it up and down, watching its ascent and descent with the eyes of a predator. "Oh, yes. We're definitely going to add a little touch of…color, here and there. But I'm wondering if we should wait for Deidara. He always did appreciate my fireworks, and I would hate for him to miss the show." A malicious grin began to spread across his face – that is, until he noticed it and quickly transformed the expression to a scowl.
On the day Deidara had announced that he would not be coming back to Katsu, he had told Tora that he was crazy. Insane. A no good, uncontrollable psychopath. Tora liked the sound of uncontrollable – it seemed to mean free and rebellious and independent. But he did not like to be called insane, especially by Deidara. In the beginning of Deidara's time in Katsu, Tora had had a certain amount of fondness for the blonde – he was a good fighter and an amazing artist with a sassy, spicy attitude problem. He also had a certain amount of carefree carelessness, and a reckless streak that made him stand out from the rest. He didn't even seem to care what the Board of Directors thought of him.
From day one, Tora knew – Deidara was a survivor. But the blonde also did not approve of being tested, kept like a dog on a leash to serve the leader of his Fringe. Tora had tried to explain to him that that was how these things worked. You join a Fringe, you get paid and looked after – but you have to do what your leader says. And in Deidara's eyes, he was his own leader. Tora knew that wasn't the only reason why he quit, but the others were some he didn't like to think about.
The thing he didn't like to admit – even to himself – was that, it hurt when Deidara left. It hurt in a place that couldn't be healed – only numbed through time and revenge. It was time for Tora to have his moment of victory over his former teammate. Not by killing him – certainly not – but by wounding him in the same place.
He crouched and held up his fist. "Get ready."
Kurotsuchi tensed, waiting for his signal. They were just about ready to spring, when a nervous voice piped up from behind. "Do we really have to do this?"
Tora relaxed his posture, sighed in frustration, and turned to face the final member of their group. He hadn't wanted to take Ash along, but he needed someone else to spot the mission, and none of the others had been free tonight. They were currently planning several raids on different banks and stock houses, so the other members had been scouting about charting out the buildings' ventilation systems and pipelines and whatnot. Ash was free only because he was a fresh initiate – allowed in at about the same time as Deidara (but not showing nearly as much promise) the two had become…rather close. It was no wonder he was reluctant to cause his friend pain – even if his friend was a deserter.
"Well, unless you have a better idea…"
Ash shifted in discomfort, avoiding Tora's eyes. "Look, I…I know he messed up. But there must be a better way; maybe I can convince him to rejoin Katsu, if I told him what you would do if he refused."
"We've talked about this already. Deidara Aozora will never come back – he said so himself. No second chances. We can't use threats to keep him in line, not him."
"But…"
Kurotsuchi stood and looked Ash in the eye. "Deidara made his own choice; he brought this on himself. I liked him too, but he betrayed Katsu – he's not one of us anymore. And he'll have to pay the price. How do you think it would make us look if –" She cut off abruptly, suddenly staring at the store on the other side of the street. "Oh, God. Tora…"
Immediately, the Fringe leader crouched on the edge of the building and directed his gaze towards the store. He blinked in astonishment. Flames were steadily rising from the walls and windows, thick smoke already filling the air above it. Tora quickly scanned the alleys on either side, and could just make out dark outlines moving swiftly from the fire. "Damn," He cursed, clenching his teeth, "This was no accident. Someone beat us to the mark."
They all continued to watch the red pinpricks grow and spiral up toward the night sky. This street was mostly deserted, but the few residents that lived nearby were fleeing their homes and shops. They knew how quickly fire could spread in the downtown district. No one called for help. No one went to see if they could put the flames out. It was as if they knew that someone powerful had wanted this – and if they interfered, they would be next.
Ash spoke up timidly, voicing an anxious little thought that had been buried deep within him, "Do you think Ino got out?" They all knew Deidara's kid sister, the one who had smiled so brightly at them when she was younger, and they showed up at her door with her big brother in tow. As she had grown older, that smile had gotten dimmer every time she saw them.
"Nah," Tora said, standing up and putting his grenade away. He didn't really care about Ino's fate – at one point, he had cared about her as much as her brother, but they were going to kill her tonight anyway, so no big deal. He shrugged. "Clearly, this was meant as a warning and punishment to Deidara. They probably boarded up the door and windows before they lit the thing up."
Kurotsuchi looked at the building with cold eyes, and Ash had an expression on his face that suggested he was going to be sick. Tora went to the edge of the building and pulled off his hoodie, tossing it over the side. Then he turned away. "Come on. I have a feeling we don't want to be here when Deidara gets back." They all made their way across the roof and swung down the fire escape, landing lightly on the concrete road. As the threesome slipped into the shadows, Tora turned and looked back. Even from here, you could see the shadows the fire made dancing over stone walls and glass windows.
"I know what you'll think Deidara; it wasn't me." He turned to follow his teammates. "But one day, it will be."
Deidara whistled as he walked back toward his home, a slight spring in his step. His bag bounced against his shoulder, which would have been painful (there were several heavy cans of spray paint in there, after all) had he not grown used to the sensation. He grinned when he thought back on Hidan's face when he told him he was a guy; that had been priceless. Of course, Ino was going to kill him when he got home, but it had so been worth it. The blonde turned onto his street and peered around at the other buildings – particularly the rooftops. Katsu was still on the lookout for him after all, it wasn't wise to let his guard down. Luckily, he hadn't drank enough to cloud his mind – strangely, his alcohol tolerance was pretty high for a thin, adolescent teenager.
Suddenly his good mood was ruined when he remembered that he had to be in court by noon tomorrow. Generally, he wasn't worried about his court cases – his were mostly minor offenses – but still. This would be, what – his fifth time getting caught at vandalism and loitering? The Board was no doubt becoming annoyed with his actions, and it was only a matter of time before they found out he was – or used to be – in Katsu. Sure, Fringes were under government control, but only the top ranking got a certain amount of protection. The others were just treated as ordinary gangs, dealt with accordingly in the eyes of the public. For Deidara, taking part in a smaller Fringe meant a death sentence for sure.
He quickened his pace, hoping he hadn't worried Ino too much. What would she think if he was late getting home the night before he was supposed to go to court? Their lawyer must be at his house right now, and he couldn't let his little sister come up with a solid defense without the participant.
Finally, he came around the edge of the old car rental place that they had shut down years ago, and walked the remaining few paces with his head to the ground, trying to look as ashamed as possible in case Ino was standing in the doorway. He expected her sharp, reprimanding voice to ring out immediately, and when it didn't he looked up. He stopped. He blinked.
There was a wide, empty gap where his house had been, like a missing tooth in a long row of houses. It was burned to the ground. And there was nothing left.
Deidara Aozora dropped his bag, and it clunked to the gravel below, making a loud clanging sound in the quiet street. "I-Ino?" He called, even though he couldn't move – he was frozen in place, like an invisible hand was holding him back from the ruins. "INO!" He screamed it this time, shock and numb panic flowing through his veins. The sound seemed to stretch across the silence, up into the night sky – but no one was there to hear it.
All at once, Deidara felt all the fight go out of him. The panic, fear – everything left him, making him feel empty and hollow. He was just thinking one thing, over and over again as he fell to his knees in the swirling ash.
Not her. Not her. Please, God, anyone but her…
A/N - Hello once again. So I typed up a few chapters of this before I published it, just to give you guys more of an example of my writing.
I'm pretty stuck in schoolwork at the moment, but I'll try to update regularly, depending on how fast I can type it up. It feels like the story's dragging a bit right now, but the plot should pick up in the next few chapters, especially when Sasori and Deidara meet for the first time!
Please feel free to R&R, comments are always welcome.
Sayonara
