Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.

'Reincarnation' My Butt, Yeah!

You know what this is, un?

This is bullshit.

B-U-L-L-S-H-I-T, hmm!

I don't— I didn't believe in reincarnation before, yet this complete and utter fuckery is happening to me now, yeah!

A sob wracks my feeble infantile body, tears running down my face.

Dammit, why am I hungry all the time, un?!

Ah, great, I can hear her waking up. The woman I was supposed to call my "mother" comes over and coos warbled gibberish in a soothing yet tired tone as she prepares a bottle of warm milk.

Hatred courses through my puny body as I glare at her, all traces of sobbing ceased.

This… this is worse than death, hmm! It's complete and utter humiliation! I am Deidara of the Akatsuki, formerly of Iwagakure, un. I was an S-rank criminal, an artist and a damn good connoisseur at it! I was feared by many, having claimed lives of countless no-name shinobi, all in the name of art. My art, in all its entirety.

Now here I am, at the mercies of this woman— Kami, it kills me inside saying this— who is apparently the one who's birthed me into this wretched world. Again.

Damn it, she is not my mother, yeah! You hear me?! You are not my mother.

How far have I fallen, un?

…Tch, judging from the fact that I'm at least a twenty on a scale of one to ten of how deep the shit I'm in is, I must've fell way fucking deep then, hmm.

She better not be a Konoha shinobi, yeah! I'll turn her into art quicker than she can say it!

I scowl at my new mother's petty (not pretty, mind you, un!) features. Mousy brown hair and dull grey eyes… which means that I probably inherited it too, hmm!

Oh, Kami. No.

I want my long, luscious golden locks back, yeah! This is an outrage!

Well, shit.

Now I've started crying again.

Fuck it, my hair is worth crying for.

The woman hushes me, lifting me out of my cradle as she raised the bottle to my lips. I begrudgingly take it, holding it in my weak and tiny hands. Hmph.

She's lucky I was hungry, un. I won't succumb to it next time, yeah!

I narrow my eyes at her. Stop staring at me, hmm! Dammit, it's freaking me out!

The woman sways back and forth, humming a tune as she smiled at me, even though I woke her up in the middle of the night, judging from how dark it was in the room. No matter how hard I tried to stay awake for longer than a few moments, my body drifted off into a deep slumber.

Do you know how absolutely demeaning it is for me— an S-rank member of the motherfucking Akatsuki-slash-artist extraordinaire— to unwillingly have to shit myself every two fucking hours?

Dammit, it's not me; it's this body, yeah! M-My (new) body!

I hate this.

I hate this so fucking much.

There she is again. My 'mother'. Spewing more nonsensical crap she changes my diaper. Fuck my life.

What language is she speaking in, anyway, un?

I know only one language, but this gibberish she's babbling in clearly isn't it.

Is it that 'my' ears are still underdeveloped, hence I can't comprehend a single fucking thing she's saying? Is there something wrong with my hearing?!

I inwardly facepalm myself at the dire and hopeless situation I'm in.

I wanted to be immortalized through the fleeting beauty of the explosion that covered a ten kilometer radius, using my body as a canvas and turning into art itself, before going into the afterlife, be it the depths of hell, or the zeniths of paradise, hmm.

Like hell I wanted to be 'reborn'.

'Reincarnation' my butt, yeah! I'd rather spend an eternity with Tobi than be stuck in this helpless infantile body, shitting myself every several hours, or crying when in need of something.

And with Tobi, that is saying a lot, un!

I hate the fact that I have no control over my life anymore. I can't even control my fucking body, what the hell?!

Out of rage, I began to cry my frustrations out whilst using my tiny fists to pummel whatever was in my range of reach.

"Ow!" I actually hit her, un!

I inwardly smirked to myself, watching as she painfully rubbed her reddening cheek. Bone is still bone, yeah.

Take that, bitch!

Muahahahahaha!

I'm pretty sure I'm going insane, hmm.

The sound of heavy footsteps catches me off-guard, a gruff-sounding voice echoing through the quiet home.

Hmph. I should've known, yeah. It's none other than my whiny-ass teenage 'brother', stomping around in what seemed to be heavily chained combat boots.

Even at the age of, what, sixteen or seventeen? He's managed to go off the deep end, dressing himself all completely in black.

Black hair, black eyeshadow, black lipstick… you name it, un.

What, hmm?

Too much of a failure to make it past genin-rank, so you settled with being a petty civilian?

The brat seemed more emo than the Uchihas I've fought with, hmm.

And, once again, that's saying a lot.

Damn, he's ugly. I can only hope that I look nothing like him, since there's already no hope of me ever having my long, luscious golden locks ever again, yeah!

Who the hell wears that much leather and spikes, un? You aren't even a freaking shinobi, dipshit. Who're you going to impale with those spikes on your faggot leather vest then, hmm?

Oh, Kami.

It's coming closer to me, smiling.

Ugh, he looks creepier than Zetsu on his happy days, yeah.

Before the emo porcupine even gets closer to me, I let out a satisfying shriek and promptly burst into tears.

Perks of being a baby?

Getting away and getting my way with virtually anything, scot-free.

He immediately backs away, panic written all over his face as 'mother' steps in to 'save me'.

She starts hushing me, which is practically the queue for me to go ballistic and bawl even louder.

Hah! This is kinda fun, hmm.

My 'nii-san' freaks out before hightailing it out of the room, heavy steps fading away and down a flight of stairs.

Yeah, that's right.

Run, you piece of shit.

And just like that, 'mother' lulls me to sleep all over again.

Damn. It.

It sucks having to resort myself to such an insipid, boring and monotonous routine as a baby.

Cry, eat, poop, sleep.

That is what has become of my life, yeah.

It's pretty much everything I hate.

Hmph. I guess that's why I left Iwagakure in the first place, un. Well, besides the fact that they refused to respect or acknowledge my art.

I left because I hated routine. I wanted excitement. And I could never get that from being with Explosion Corps for the rest of my life; not when they held me back from my fullest potential.

Unlike what Sasori-danna thought, I knew full well that life was ephemeral, hmm.

Nothing would ever be eternal in this world, so I grabbed life by the balls and had a blast (get it, un?) by expressing myself through my art. I lived life on the edge, dangerously and recklessly. But, hell, I didn't give a shit.

Everybody has to die sometime, right? What would life be if you merely existed as routine, instead of grabbing life by the balls like I did? I don't regret dying the way I did, yeah.

I lived for my art and I died embodying art itself.

Then this 'reincarnation' bullshit happens.

I stare blankly at my 'mother' as she dressed me in the most ridiculous outfit I have ever seen. It was a baby blue onesie. Even worse, it had ducks all over it.

Dear Kami, save me from this humiliation and give me the strength to turn her and my wardrobe into art.

I don't care what you say— I'm still not warming up to the fact that this woman is my new mother, yeah!

I remember my original— therefore my only – kaa-san. I looked a lot like her. I inherited her icy blue eyes and her silky blond hair. She was a nice woman and I loved her, hmm.

Too bad she died in combat during the Third Great Ninja War, un.

Killed in action by Konoha shinobi.

Albeit the fact that I was still young, I had been enlightened with the fact that our very existences were ephemeral, hmm. All she left me was our home, random pieces of early clay sculptures, and the explosion release kekkei genkai she also possessed.

And, I guess, in that very kekkei genkai, it was the only true memory of her that burned the brightest… The house will eventually crumble and turn into shambles. The clay sculptures will break and turn into nothing but dust. But I found immortalization in the beauty of a single fleeting explosion, the memory of witnessing it being the only remainder of art itself.

Not that eternal crap, yeah! Nothing lasts forever.

Even puppets break.

I snap out of my thoughts once I realize that we've made it out of my room and down the stairs. I tried to memorize the layout of the area, just for the sake of knowing it.

I turn to the side and inwardly gawk. That is a huge ass TV, hmm!

Well, it's either that or it's the begrudging fact that I'm tiny.

Good, we're downstairs now, yeah.

Holy shit, it's actually huge! It is way bigger than my 'mother', yeah!

Just as I thought we were going to approach the TV, she walked out through the white front door.

I immediately glance around to take in my surroundings.

Moderately-sized green trees, bland symmetrical shrubbery, huge metal machines..?!

This isn't Konoha, un!

This doesn't look like any of the other great nations I've been in, hmm!

W-Where the fuck am I?!

Something is off, something is seriously off.

Oh Kami, she opened the huge hunk of red metal with what I assumed to be glass 'windows' with the press of a button.

I instantly froze on the spot as she got in without skipping a beat, placing me into a basket of some sort and strapping me to it. She shut the 'door' of the machine and did something to make it come to life.

Oh Kami, what the actual fuck is going on?

Where am I?!

What is this?!

Before I knew it, another petrified shriek escaped my lips.

First of all, THANKS FOR THE FEEDBACK! :D Finally, someone notices that I used the cliche 'reincarnation' plot to my liking. :) Review review review bc reviews are like the saline solution in the IV drip of life. Well, my life, anyways.

~jellydonut16~