Disclaimer: I don't own much, maybe a few people tied up in my closet cosplayed as members of the Akatsuki, but eh. These days who doesn't have a few of those?

Life beats down and crushes the soul and art reminds you that you have one. ~Stella Adler

"I think it would be best to move Deidara to another base until he overcomes his emotions, Kabuto." Madara said. "I don't think he can handle so much right now, as I suspected."

The clock ticked away behind Deidara in the investigation room as that bastard, that fucking bastard, tried to get rid of him. He knew that something had been wrong, from the moment they had brought him back. From the moment that he had exploded those drawings of him and Tobi, around that gorgeous fire, pretending to be friends.

"My fucking Kami, yeah. What the hell is wrong with being angry, uhn? Why the hell is that a disease? I'm fuckin' fine, uhn!"

Deidara stuck his hands deep into a bag that rested at his hip, eyes crazed with spiteful passion as he palmed a handful of clay. He could hear Kabuto shuffle backwards away from him as the gray haired man saw him begin to draw his weapon, but Deidara didn't dare remove his eyes from Madara. His art's strength was infinite, it was king, if they both decided to attack he could handle both of them. He knew he could.

"You didn't think to remove his weapons, Kabuto? How foolish, but then I suppose things will be more interesting this way, especially because the fool is so rash as to be so obvious with his emotions unlike a true shinobi."

A shudder ran up Deidara's spine as he watched Madara, careful to avoid looking directly into his eyes. Deidara, aside from being arrogant, also knew when he was against a formidable foe. His hands worked still worked fiercely to form something that might ensure his escape, even though he was so sure that he would be able to escape. Yes, Deidara, the loyal Akatsuki member wanted to leave. What a joke. He hadn't ever wanted to be in the Akatsuki in the first place, his hand had been forced by that wicked Uchiha... Itachi.

Madara appeared behind him, just grazing Deidara's cheek with a blade before Deidara whipped around and threw a trademark clay centipede at him, but the centipede missed and hit the floor where Deidara had thought Madara was just standing. He had been standing there, right? Deidara jerked his head to the left, avoiding another strike from a kunai and slipped the clay creation on his foot, kicking it back at where he thought Madara was again, but it failed once more, frustrating the artist.

A thought crossed his mind as Deidara slid deep into the darkness of the room, his pupils dilating as he tried to dispel whatever genjutsu that may have been cast on him, but nothing changed. The room continued to be the same, full of the spiteful man that now held a fraction of the hate in Deidara's heart.

"Something wrong, Deidara?"

Deidara's head shot to the right to see Madara standing close by, gloved hands clasped together in front of his gray and red-clouded robe, orange mask cocked to one side. It was a stance he had taken frequently as 'Tobi.'

"You seem to be upset." Madara's voice broke into a lighter one at the end, a mockingly careful one that resembled Tobi's.

Deidara swung around in circles in a nervous fashion as Madara disappeared into thin air, making a small note in the back of his mind that Kabuto had also disappeared. That didn't really bother him, Kabuto was a coward, a smart coward, but a coward none the less. What did bother him was the game Madara was playing... Deidara couldn't let himself be brought into these mind games..no..not now. It wasn't the time to get worked up. A small smile graced his thin lips as he realized what kind of time this was right now, the chance that he had. Everything was being played out into the open, Madara and himself, he didn't have to be sneaky or catty about it. He had been pondering this ever since he came back, right?

He had a chance to escape, and to sweeten the deal, escape with a bang. And he was going too take it while he could.

Deidara's hands pressed together into a hand sign, setting off the writhing centipede that had seemingly been abandoned on the ground, only seconds after he started his dash through the darkness and out of the open door that Kabuto had kindly left open while fleeing. He kicked his legs into high gear as he ran, moving himself harder and faster with chakra increased jumps, but even then the heat from the explosion immediately rose up upon Deidara's back and only then did he experience the true rush of his explosions up close. It was exhilarating, dangerous, but exciting, being caught in a near death trap. The doorway from the interrogation wind burned up behind Deidara just as he burst through it, running hard past Hidan who was playing poker with Kakuzu in the cafeteria who looked up with a strange expression at Deidara's run. It was only seconds until the edges of the explosion hit that room though with no time to stop and warn them of the oncoming trouble, Deidara was already a second ahead, throwing himself out of the first floor window and onto the ground. He was sure the Zombie Brothers would survive, Hidan was immortal after all and Kakuzu was ninety-one years old. And it wasn't like they had gotten caught in the center of the explosion, after all, he had no ill will towards them.

He hit the ground running, not even bother to look back to see the house collapse from the loss of support beams from the basement, not even to see if the person screaming his name was Sasori. He had a future plan for himself, and no one who had been in that place was in that future. Well, maybe slightly.

He would join the rebel army. That's what he would do.

Another smile crept up onto his face, the singed ends of his hair flying loose from the way he had sloppily put it up that morning, but he didn't really care that his only hair tie was falling to the ground below him. No, that was unimportant currently. He threw his head back, wild as an animal in it's natural habitat. He knew deep down he would never completely be able to leave the Akatsuki, the past would always be with him. He'd always be labeled ex-Akatsuki, it was something he could never completely escape, but hell. Who the hell cared? This was freedom, this was life. He had just left, simply as that. Just like she did. Just like Haruno.

A strong, large bird bowed it's head before Deidara, who marveled at it's beauty, before climbing into it's moist clay back and letting it fly him off into the sky. It wasn't going to be easy, finding a new future. But as he whipped into the bright sky he could tell there was something new waiting for him on the horizon, something different. It was a new start, a new day, and he couldn't wait to brighten up that horizon with a bang.

The heavy-set woman turned out to be not so heavy-set as she knocked on the room door again. Sakura answered cautiously, sticking her head outside into the hallway before accepting the heavy tray with a small smile. She gave thanks, and shut the door quickly behind her, unintentionally slamming the door into the face of the woman who was about to heartily request a tip that the pair couldn't afford. They were low on funds, running out of money and Sakura had started to rely on stealing to support herself and her new-found friend. It felt dirty, stealing. She felt dirty, regardless of the dozens of showers she could take in the inns they'd visit and ditch without paying the bill.

Kokoro's wide, toothy smile was enough to ease her guilt, however. She'd set the tray of rice balls and breakfast foods on the coffee table, and his eyes would go wide with joy. She saw so much of her loved ones in him, Naruto's fondness for Ramen and Chouji's for food... Shikamaru's laziness and Ino's love for flowers. It brought her both joy and pain. She didn't know what to do with the boy, her heart always darkened at the thought of letting him go to a good family, whenever she found an accepting village far from the area of war. But it was what was best, because the second she placed him in a good place she would followed the whispered rumors of a rebel army in hopes of saving just a scrap of order. Of honor, and peace.

She needed to heal the wounds of her heart.