A/N: Well, WhirledPeace, you've taken your sweet time updating. I'll bet you lose your entire fanbase. And then you dish out crap that doesn't break 2.000 words, and it's mainly things you write while PMSing and it's so utterly pathetic and overused it makes me want to kill something cute and furry.
WP: *sniff* Shut up ok?! I did my best! But i needed one more chapter before... shit happens... and such... so don't hate me for not updating, I've been busy! (Vindicated. Read it, it's pretty good!) So here ya go!
Deidara awoke alone, cold, hungry, and in pain. He groaned, rolling over. He screamed, having come face to face with Kakuzu. Kakuzu rolled his eyes. "We got you some food," he said, pushing a few crusts of bread towards Deidara. The blonde ravenously dug into the feast, not caring it would take his stomach acid to properly break down the tough substance. "Slow down. Do you want to puke it back up?"
"I'll be sick from the pain in an hour or so anyway, un," Deidara mumbled, chewing fiercely. Kakuzu sighed, knowing Deidara was right. He was too tired to hit the blonde as well, and just sat back. "Where's Hidan, yeah?" Deidara asked.
"Out." Deidara said nothing. He chewed slowly now, mulling over his situation. His suicidal moment had passed, but he wasn't sure he was glad he hadn't succeeded.
"What-" Deidara coughed. "What are we going to do now, un?" Kakuzu glared at him.
"We focus on living another day," he replied. "What did you expect?"
"Nothing. You've already gone beyond my expectations, un." Deidara lurched to his feet. "I'm going to take a shower, want to help me, un?" Kakuzu grunted.
"Only because I don't want you stinking," he replied. Deidara struggled over to the window where a hose was flopped over the window sill. He tried his hardest to get his shirt off, but Kakuzu had to come to his rescue, carefully removing the garment. "Do you need help with your pants too?" he asked. Deidara sighed and nodded, his head hanging in shame. Kakuzu's strong hands hooked under the hem of his pants, pulling them down. "You're bruised pretty badly. Is anything broken?" Deidara shook his head, still not saying anything. Kakuzu went outside for a moment, and soon water began pouring out of the hose. Deidara picked it up with his good arm and started cleaning himself, the cold water waking him up and making him feel more alert. Once he was sufficiently clean, Kakuzu handed him a rag that had most definitely seen better days. Deidara dried himself off and soon he was being helped back into his clothes.
The door to the building creaked open. Kakuzu grabbed Deidara and pulled him behind a pile of old machinery, crushing them into an awkward and uncomfortable position. "Oi, fuckers, just me," Hidan called. Kakuzu and Deidara relaxed, coming out from their hiding place.
"What did you find?" Kakuzu demanded. Hidan shrugged.
"Nothing. We don't exactly have to eat today." They all looked at each other, and they knew they probably wouldn't eat tomorrow. Deidara huffed and leapt to his feet, storming from the building.
"Where are you going?" Hidan called.
"To find something to eat, yeah!" Deidara grumbled back. Hidan rolled his eyes and turned back to Kakuzu.
"The brat's going to get himself killed, no?"
"I doubt it," Kakuzu sighed. "He's too young to die." Behind that statement lay a simple fact: Kakuzu was rapidly approaching adulthood. Hidan huffed.
"So? I don't know anyone who hasn't died young." Hidan sighed. "Besides, he's going at it all wrong. Best to kill yourself fast and surely."
Deidara sighed, kicking a can out of his path. He dipped quickly into the bin, and after a moment of fruitless searching, he retreated. After repeating this method on several other bins, he gave up, sitting down and leaning against the wall. He had no right to be alive. He should have died long ago, long before yesterday. Where was his right to be clinging to life so fiercely? Deidara felt an overwhelming sense of confusion, depression, and desperation. Death was not what he had wanted yesterday, it was an escape. And now, the key to his escape was written in a language he could not understand, on a piece of paper that was likely worth more than his life, sitting comfortably in his pocket.
Release was what he craved. A release from this hunger, this silence, this living on the edge of insanity. Jerking to his feet, Deidara ran. Buildings blurred, with his tears of his speed he could not tell. The world was in a haze, the only solid or sure thing being the ground beneath his feet. Direction was nothing, time was of no concern. If he didn't move, didn't fight, he was sure to go mad.
True to his predictions, Deidara was sick in a bin from the pain. Moaning, with sick trickling wetly from the corners of his mouth, Deidara sank to the ground, banging his head against a brick wall. Why? Why was he so intent on living? He should be dead, yes, but why stave of starvation to starve another day? What was the point?
"What do you mean?" Kakuzu asked suspiciously.
"I mean, some ways are better than others. If you really want to die, do it quickly and a way that can't be reversed." Kakuzu sighed.
"Not all methods are available to people like us."
"I don't know. But you get what I'm saying, right?" Kakuzu sighed.
"Like you would not believe." They looked at each other intensely. "Are you going to kill yourself?" Kakuzu asked.
"No. I still have a few things I want to do."
"Want to do? To be honest, I don't even see the point in living another day." They were standing and facing each other now, Hidan with his arms crossed over his chest, Kakuzu's by his side and twitching, as if itching to strangle the former. Hidan rolled his eyes, sticking out his tongue.
"Can't we all just be blessed? I've still never kissed anybody. That should be something to look forward to, right?" Kakuzu rolled his eyes.
"Is that your purpose for living, then?" Hidan smirked.
"Perhaps it is. What's it to you?" Kakuzu wrinkled his nose in frustration.
"Forget it," he muttered, turning his back to the silver-haired teen. Hidan laughed.
"You're so stiff, Kakuzu," he said. Kakuzu said nothing. It was cruel to ruin a child's delusional happiness. "But you wanna know the real reason I get up in the morning?" Kakuzu turned back to face him.
"Why?" he grunted.
"You." Kakuzu opened his mouth to say something. It was likely a scoff or a snort, or a question of surprise. But he never did a thing before Hidan's simple interjection "Hear me out, all right?" Kakuzu closed his mouth and crossed his arms over his chest. Now Hidan uncrossed his arms, letting them fall to his sides. "You're always so secure, you always have the answers. You never get too depressed or too worked up. When you're angry you're adorable, when you worry you're just a sweetie-pie. You always sacrifice your comfort for ours, you never think too much about yourself. You're like my rock, man." Kakuzu stared, a light blush tinting his cheeks. How was he to explain that he had only ever worried because of Hidan? Could he possibly say how he had tried so hard to give answers and be there because he thought he'd die without Hidan? He had always wanted to tell Hidan he sacrificed to make the silver-haired teen happy, because another's happiness could fill you more than a meal, but how was he to phrase it?
There, Hidan could see it in Kakuzu's eyes. He knew. They both moved at the same time, neither faster, neither covering more space, than the other. Their lips came together tentatively, a simple skin against skin contact that was more meaning than touching. They then drew back and looked at each other. Neither knew what to call this feeling, neither had ever been told about love, merely sex. Neither had bothered to think about it for very long. All they knew was that they were there, and they were together. Again they kissed, this time holding each other. Hidan's arms cautiously wrapped around Kakuzu's shoulders, and the older lightly set his own hands upon Hidan's waist. Their lips parted, and their tongues touched like strangers' hands.
Deidara looked up at the clouds, imploring the clouds with every fiber of his soul to pour their load and cleanse him. Nothing seemed real anymore. The buildings around him seemed fake, as if they were merely a hoax. He needed, more than food, to know what was real and what was worth fighting and living for. Standing, Deidara spread his arms, ignoring the pain, and awaited the rain. A few light, feathery drops ghosted his skin, before the heavy, stinging, grotesquely cold drops began pelting him. It made him ache inside and out as he was assaulted by water, becoming drenched so that his tears mingled with the tears of the gods.
Deidara knew he would get sick and die if he did not find shelter from his rain. Like a vision, Deidara ghosted into the shelter of an overhang, water dripping off his nose and chin and seeping steadily into his skin. But he was like a sponge already filled, he had no more room for rain or sadness. Like the clouds above, he simply could not hold on to his burden much longer.
Slowly, Deidara turned in the direction of Height street. He knew the way by heart, and his feet bore him without mush conscious consent. His mind dawdled between sanity and madness, in a numb state akin to shock and close to denial. The streets and shops of the town passed without his notice. He only needed to know where to turn, anything else was unneeded. Willing or not, sane or not, happy or not, Deidara found himself before a familiar, rundown building. The injuries he had obtained in yesterday's accident were beginning to throb and ache, his head was feeling foggy and dull, and his body threatened to give way. All Deidara wanted was a simple place to lay his head. But as soon as he entered the building, he knew he would not achieve his goal of rest tonight, nor perhaps the rest of his life, however long that would be.