Hola peoples! Guess who is so totally not dead and on hiatus! :D Yeah, I seem like I'm in too peppy a mood to write angst, don't I? But that's where you're wrong! There is NEVER a wrong time for angst! It's like beans, fruit, music…. And… stuff. It's good for your soul! 8D *cough* Yeh, that's the end of my Pro-Angst rant, lol. But don't even get me started on Pro-life… x33
-+-+-
The ground shook.
He didn't feel it.
The birds and animals in the vicinity squawked and screeched their struggling futile as they tried desperately to get away from the rapidly-expanding and decimating explosion.
He watched, though it was eerie. He listened, though it seemed to fade faster with every second.
The kid- that kid, that Uchiha- with his "emotionless" eyes, sat down, his eyes now wide with awe, horror, and fear.
Deidara grinned. Though, he couldn't feel or see himself. So he highly doubted he was actually grinning. Oh, whatever, no time to be analytical and judging now!
His eyes. That damned gaze, emotionless for so long- too long, was fearful and amazed- just as Deidara told him to look. That brat didn't even realize he was falling right into the blonde's plan.
He threw his non-existent head back and laughed hysterically.
Art. This was art.
The fear, the pain, the awe… the emotion! He himself, his art- That was what broke it. Those eyes, those eyes, those eyes! Stoic and condescending once, are now filled with every emotion that true art should evoke!
Death was beautiful. Even if it was eternal and dark. He had died- or was he still in the process of dying?- looking upon that. No matter if he could never create another sculpture, another bomb… it was worth it, putting that face on an Uchiha.
Even if it wasn't the right one.
He nearly growled. The light was fading now, he felt as if he was falling.
And the beautiful view of the fearful runt was replaced by the blasé and all-too-unconcerned look of the kid's older brother- Uchiha Itachi.
Pride. That was what was broken that day.
Fear. That is what he left behind.
Hate. Replaced both of them.
Art. What he vowed to make of his situation.
He shook off Itachi's face and the memories, another familiar countenance coming to mind.
Sasori no Danna.
He never quite got the old geezer. So cold, and almost as blasé as Itachi. He had sworn that he hated him, that even though he had to outwardly respect him, his "danna" would never ever understand what true art was.
He thought that until they had gotten into their first real art argument.
The puppeteer spoke with such soft, hidden passion- like someone trying to protect their most precious feelings- it made Deidara rethink his first impression of Sasori.
He had passion, he did care about his art. He was just too "strong" to show it.
Damn. What is with all these shinobi and appearing strong, yeah? What does it matter what asses like Hidan and Itachi think, un?! I'm an artist, I will always be misunderstood. Danna just doesn't- He nearly flinched as he mentally corrected himself- rather, didn't get it.
"Huh, brat? Just because I wasn't around doesn't mean I don't exist anymore."
Deidara turned around as quick as he could to face the red-head's smirk that he knew he would find, only to look into pitch-black.
No one was there.
I'm going crazy, un.
"Not any crazier than you already were."
He shook his head, turning a circle once more.
This is just messed up. I'm hearing voices, for God's sake!
"You know I can hear your thoughts as if you're speaking them aloud, right? In any case, quit reminiscing."
"Where the hell are you, smartass, un?!"
"Tch. That's no way to talk to me, brat. And idiot, if you would just open your eyes…"
Oh. Damn.
-+-+-
I effing hate this, for the record. This will probably "Deidara- Part 1". I can't stand having humor as my wonderful artist's farewell. So… yeah. Next one will be super-angst Deidara's farewell. This one… well, feel free to tell me what a load of bull it is, lol. Took about ten minutes, so… yurp.