Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.


Chapter Four

"Thanks for patching me up, and thanks for the food, but I'm out of here, un."

Kaminari stands in front of the sink washing dishes as the Akatsuki guy saunters toward her home's back exit. Giving the boy a small, disappointed, smile, Kaminari removes her hands from the soapy water and dries them off on a nearby towel. She moves toward him with the towel in her grasp, wanting to get in a final few words before he leaves.

"Okay. Good luck on the road. Make it back to your partner in one piece, and don't push yourself too hard."

The boy doesn't give much of a response to her farewell. He nods apathetically and gives an uncaring "un", exiting with a swish of his torn cloak. The door leading to her back porch shuts with a firm click, and she hears his footsteps thump against the wood as he descends the stairs. Once he's gone, Kaminari forces herself to return to the sink to finish washing dishes. Unfortunately, the girl is at the task for less than two minutes before she finds herself rushing out of the kitchen, through the living room, and up to the large picture window in the front-most part of her house. It has a perfect view of the dirt trail that leads deeper into Chouwa.

Walking down the path in a slow, sauntering, manner is none other than the Akatsuki guy. Just like the day she saw him through the candy shop's window, his countenance is relaxed as much as threatening. Even without the straw hat concealing his face, the boy has a very commanding presence when he moves. His torn cloak with the red clouds sways lightly in the breeze as do his golden tresses, giving him an added aura of mystery.

As she watches him, a smile appears on Kaminari's face. This mysterious criminal with the commanding presence slept in her house last night, shared two meals with her, and used her bathroom. Yet, even if he was irritated with her at times, he never made a move to harm her. The most he would do is glare and snap at her. If the Akatsuki guy wanted to, he could've killed Kaminari in a hundred different ways. He didn't, though. The boy put up with her, and sometimes their conversation even passed for sociable. For an S-rank criminal, the Akatsuki guy wasn't so bad.

Suddenly, before Kaminari can do any more thinking on the subject, she sees as his posture falters from its threatening state. Hunching over, the boy raises an arm to cradle his abdomen. If Kaminari was directly in front of him, she is certain that she would see a grimace painting his features. It is for these reasons that the girl frowns in concern.

"Poor Akatsuki guy. I hope he'll be okay. Once he's carrying all that heavy clay through the woods by himself, there's no telling what could happen to him!" Her frown deepens. "Stubborn Akatsuki guy, telling me he'll be fine when he's in pain! I hope he doesn't hurt himself again…"

Kaminari continues watching for another minute until it finally hits her that she has work to do. The dishes won't wash themselves, and getting the elderly people their laundry is of the utmost importance. It is because of this that Kaminari pulls herself away from the struggling Akatsuki member to return to her chores. If he gets hurt she knows it's his own fault, because she did warn him. Yet, the girl worries anyway.


Deidara doesn't like admitting this, but he has felt sore all morning. He feels far better than he did yesterday. Although, after walking up the dirt path to the village's clay shop, he isn't sure that this is so true. His abdomen has gone from tender, to aching, to nearly throbbing. He has been on his feet for several hours at this point, and more than anything Deidara wishes that he could lay down. How the boy is going to make it to the Akatsuki's northeast branch hideout while carrying clay, he hasn't the slightest clue. He'll consider it lucky if he can make it to the halfway point.

Maybe Sasori was right in what he said to him yesterday. Perhaps he should have allowed the Puppet Master to purchase the clay while he returned to the hideout to recuperate. Had he followed this suggestion, Deidara certainly wouldn't be in the situation that he is in now…

"We've been through this before, Aimi! Give me my clay, and I'm out of here! It isn't hard to understand! Now let me buy your product, un!"

He peers through the window at the pudgy, gray-haired, shopkeeper. In turn, she stares back at him. Her facial expression screams with horror to say the least. As the woman verbalizes a response, her tone of voice is equally terrified.

"I'm sorry, Deidara, but I can't sell to you. You ran out of clay in only two weeks, and I have a feeling that know what you did with it. You're using my clay for illegal activities. Chouwa doesn't support illegal activities, so I refuse to sell you anything."

Deidara runs exasperated fingers through his hair. Within the two hours that he has been standing outside of her shop, she has given him this speech a dozen times. Aimi should know by this point that her "we don't sell to criminals" excuse won't be of any benefit. If it helped in the slightest, Deidara would have been up the path and out of Chouwa eons ago. It is for this reason that Deidara narrows his cobalt orbs into a glare as he speaks to Aimi once more.

"You should know right now that if I can't get my clay the easy way, I'm going to get my hands on it the hard way, un! My Akatsuki partner is Sasori of the Red Sand, and neither of us are too moral for stealing, un. Either you hand over my clay and make a profit, or Sasori and I will raid your store and get my clay for free." Narrowing his eyes more sharply than previously, he adds, "As well-known a shinobi as Sasori is, I can imagine that you are aware that he is deadly. You wouldn't want to bring Sasori of the Red Sand to Chouwa by refusing to sell to me, would you?"

Deidara keeps his posture as stiff and intimidating as possible while glowering at the shopkeeper. So aggravated and in pain is the flaxen-haired bomber that his facial expression has shifted to something lethal. With his jaw set firmly, an irate grimace etched into his face, and an emotion reflecting in his pointed blue slants that could possibly kill, there is no doubt that the boy's patience is wearing thin.

As he glares through the shop window at Aimi, Deidara struggles to keep from cradling his midsection. By now he has gone two hours without touching it, standing in this exact spot outside of the clay shop the entire time. The throbbing pain increases more with every passing second. Thus, refraining from nursing the area continues to grow more difficult.

Ignoring the agony using raw determination, Deidara persists in scowling. Apparently his threat is effective, as the woman's skin turns paler than snow. Along with this she begins shuddering, eyes filling with fear pure and undiluted. When she replies to Deidara after a long moment of being subjected to his intensive glower, the bomber nearly breaks his murderous scowl to smirk victoriously.

"S-Sasori of the R-Red Sand? H-He's your partner?" stutters the shopkeeper.

"Yes. He is, un!" Deidara replies bluntly. "If I wanted to, I could have sent him to retrieve my clay instead of coming here myself. If you refused him the same way you're refusing me, he wouldn't stand here and accept it, un! He would have broken the door down, taken the clay, and left this backwater village by now! Knowing him, he might have taken one or two of you to add to his collection. The puppets he uses aren't made from wood, you know."

By this point, Aimi is shuddering so intensely that it surprises Deidara that she is still standing.

"I-I've heard that Sasori of the Red Sand is c-crazy. Insane is what the shinobi of Sunagakure call him!" Eyes similar in size to saucers, she asks, "You almost s-sent him here?!"

When he replies, the bomber doesn't hesitate. "Yes. I was very close to sending him here, but I didn't, un. I told him that the people in this village are scared to death of the Akatsuki, and that the last thing they need is two of us walking around. So when we passed the trail leading to Chouwa, I sent him on his way and came here on my own." Deepening his scowl, he adds, "But if you want me to go find him so that we can get my clay for free, I can easily arrange that, un."

Aimi doesn't get a chance to respond to his additional threat. Before she can utter a single word, a duo of young women appears from behind a set of shelves. Once they're out in the open, they make a dash for the clay shop's entrance. A third employee, the man who shoved Deidara the last time he'd been in Chouwa, calls out to them in panic as they near the door.

"No! Don't do it! Are you crazy?! For all we know, he's bluffing!"

Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, one of the women faces him fearfully. "It doesn't matter if he's bluffing! He could be serious! Do you want to find out firsthand if he's telling the truth?!"

The man, who is now standing in the open himself, gulps nervously at the question. "No. I suppose I really don't want to find out…"

"Good! Then it looks like we're on the same page!" states the other woman. "We don't care what you or Aimi say! We're letting the guy in and selling him some clay! Chouwa's honor isn't worth becoming some rouge Suna shinobi's flesh puppet!"

When the same two women push past Aimi, unlatch the locks, and shove open the door, Deidara gives an inaudible sigh of relief. Now that he can finally purchase his clay, he is one step closer to reaching the nearest Akatsuki hideout. Why he didn't use Sasori as a bargaining chip before this, he isn't sure. Perhaps pain was preventing him from thinking of the idea, or perhaps it was pride. Either way, Deidara supposes that it doesn't matter now. Within twenty minutes he will have his clay and will be on his way out of this backwoods village.


"Here's your grandma's laundry, Fuji. It's washed, ironed, and folded just the way she likes it!"

Kaminari stands in front of the candy shop's counter wearing a beaming grin. In her arms is a neatly folded stack of simple, brown, clothing, which she extends toward the woman who was once her coworker. Peering up at her with chocolate-colored eyes, Fuji accepts the pile without so much as a nod or a smile. In turn, Kaminari's grin begins faltering. When Fuji reaches into the pocket of her crisp, white, apron in an emotionless fashion and gives her several bills in the same manner that she might a stranger, her smile fades entirely.

"Thank you for your services. I'm sure that my grandmother will be satisfied. Goodbye, and have a nice afternoon."

The empty wicker basket that she is holding droops in Kaminari's grasp. Gazing at the woman desperately, the girl does her best to speak with her. As she speaks, Fuji's expression shifts from emotionless to discontentment.

"Fuji, you're not going to act like this every time I deliver your grandma's laundry, are you? You did this when I stopped by last week, too. I was hoping it would pass." Despair flickering in her emerald orbs, she asks, "We're still friends, aren't we? I mean, I know you had to fire me because I helped that Akatsuki guy. Your uncle told you to! But this doesn't affect our relationship, does it? We always got along so well before."

Shutting her eyes tightly, Fuji releases a soft sigh. It is lengthy, and not once does Kaminari miss the disappointment that undertones it.

"I didn't want to do this, Kaminari, but I'm going to have to be blunt." Chocolate eyes unusually hard, Fuji states, "Nobody in Chouwa trusts you anymore. Not me, not my uncle, and not any of your past friends. I'm sorry, but you aided an Akatsuki, and everyone knows that you wouldn't hesitate to do it again. You're willing to help anyone, Kaminari; even criminals. If you're willing to help a rogue shinobi, then what else are you willing to do?"

Eyes widening, Kaminari gapes at the small woman in a mixture of hurt and surprise.

"Fuji, you're talking crazy! The guy had his hair tangled in door hinges, so of course I helped him! That doesn't make me evil!" Pausing, she adds, "And really, nothing makes him evil, either. We don't know anything about the Akatsuki guy's past, about why he joined the Akatsuki, or why he went rogue in the first place! What right do any of us have to judge him?"

Fuji sighs once more, this one sounding pained. "I wish you would have some common sense, Kaminari. In the end, why he became a criminal doesn't matter. What does matter is that he's dangerous. If you're willing to get near him, then you shouldn't be surprised that you're being shunned."

This time it is Kaminari who sighs. She toys with the handles of the empty wicker basket, sorrow heard in her tone.

"It sounds strange when you put it like that. You're making it sound like I'm the criminal." Freeing one of her hands from the basket to tuck a loose, black, strand back into her ponytail, she adds, "Just because everyone in Chouwa is shunning me doesn't mean that I'm going to stay away from him. You saw me help him once, and all of you are against me forever because of it. If you're all judgmental enough to shun me because of that one thing I did, then maybe deciding to help the Akatsuki guy was the right thing to do."

By this point it is apparent that Fuji is growing frustrated, because the short woman rakes her fingers through her hair while wearing a deep frown.

"You really don't have any common sense, do you? Every person in Chouwa has you branded as a traitor, and you're still going to keep approaching him." Features growing desperate, she continues. "If you start staying away from him now and continue to do it every time he comes to the village, the shunning will pass after a while. It will take time, but eventually people in Chouwa will trust you again. Are you really willing to let the chance to be integrated back into the village pass you by?"

Opening her mouth partway, Kaminari is prepared to respond to the woman. She already knows exactly what she plans on telling her. All afternoon Kaminari has gone from house to house delivering people their clothing, and all afternoon she has been met with disdain. Distant glares, whispers, cruel shouting, the occasional rock being tossed her way, Kaminari has been forced to endure all of this. It isn't just this afternoon that the girl has had to put up with the townspeople's cruelty, but every time she has come to town throughout the past two weeks.

Honestly, the most enjoyable interaction that she has had with a human being recently was with the Akatsuki guy himself. Certainly he was a bit moody and short-tempered, but as a whole he wasn't bad. If anything, Kaminari would dare say that they're bordering on friendship. Why on Earth would Kaminari trade a potential friend for harsh, judgmental, prudes who will only accept her once she decides to conform to the village mold?

Before the fourteen-year-old can share a single one of these thoughts, however, a shout from one of the candy shop's customers distracts her. The person's words sound incredibly frightened.

"No! It's him again! What is he doing here?!"

Upon hearing these words, Kaminari immediately forgets about Fuji and turns around to face the shop's picture window. She already feels it in her gut that she knows who the person is talking about. When the girl gazes across the street to see a head of long, blonde, hair along with a tattered cloak, her assumption is immediately confirmed. The Akatsuki guy is exiting Aimi's shop with several large containers of clay in tow. His posture is slouched and he seems more than a bit fatigued, but nonetheless, Kaminari notes that he appears satisfied.

It has been well over three hours since they parted ways back at her house, so she can guess that he had difficulty convincing Aimi to sell to him since he is leaving the clay shop only now. The fact that he was unable to convince the elderly lady to sell to him sooner disappoints Kaminari. He has been on his feet for hours at this point, and no doubt has a long way to walk. With broken ribs, freshy-healed wounds that are still tender, and having just recovered from dehydration, Kaminari wonders how far he will make it. Not far, probably. He doesn't show it, but he must be in horrible pain!

When his posture slouches farther after walking several steps, Kaminari instantly frowns. There is no doubt about it. The Akatsuki guy is definitely in pain.

Noticing the direction of her gaze, as well as the way in which she angles herself toward the door, Fuji's frown deepens. Peeking across the street at the cloaked boy, then back at Kaminari, she eyes the girl seriously.

"I know what you're thinking, Kaminari, and as a word of advice, don't do it. The more you go near him, the harder it will be for Chouwa to accept you back. You're trading everything you've ever known for an Akatsuki. Are you really willing to do that?"

Kaminari doesn't answer. Then again, she doesn't have to. Facing the counter, the girl meets the woman's firm gaze with determined green eyes. During all the years that she has lived in Chouwa, Kaminari has never felt such determination. Neither has Fuji seen it. When Kaminari turns back around and sprints toward the door, they are both aware that her decision is final. They are also aware that once a decision of Kaminari's is final, she never turns back from it.


Deidara was wrong. Purchasing his clay took ten minutes rather than twenty. The duo of women who granted him entry into the shop rushed about frantically, gathering the contents of his usual order and shoving him out the door as quickly as possible. When Aimi had her back turned, one of them tucked in an extra mound of clay as an apology for keeping him locked out of the store. Throughout the duration of their services, Deidara had to refrain from smirking in amusement. It truly amazes him the lengths that people will go through to ensure that they are not made into puppets.

Truth be told, his man Sasori would never craft mere civilians into his precious artwork, but Deidara decided not to inform them of this. The last thing he wants is to risk being barred from Aimi's shop again the next time he's in Chouwa.

Feeling satisfied despite abdominal pain and several hours of standing, Deidara saunters down the dirt path leading away from the village. Due to his injuries as well as the excess clay he was given, his load feels far heavier than usual. This is so much the truth that he feels his posture slouching after walking as little as four meters. By the time he journeys five meters, the stinging of his broken ribs has intensified to nearly twice that of the previous amount. If Deidara wanted to lay down somewhere and rest earlier, then he unquestionably wants to now. He doesn't allow the thought to tempt him too much, though. He simply hoists up the large pouches of clay and pushes onward.

The earthen streets, which were bustling with people earlier, are barren now. As he passes by Chouwa's candy shop, a shop that sells glass rocks, and something comparable to a mercantile, he catches sight of civilians peeking out at him fearfully. When he glances inside the windows with a deadly grimace, they duck out of view as if they were never there. In turn, Deidara scoffs.

"Chouwa is such an isolated and paranoid village, un. How can a place like this possibly produce a person like Kaminari?"

Hoisting his clay pouches up farther, he continues up the path with a fresh aura of tenacity. The sooner he can escape Chouwa, the better. Sadly for Deidara, however, he doesn't make it far. He doesn't even get past the large front window of the candy shop.

"Hey, Akatsuki guy! It looks like you got Aimi to sell you some clay! Way to go!"

Three seconds are all it takes for a familiar, raven-haired, girl to appear beside him. The door to the village's candy store echoes loudly as it slams shut, suggesting that this is where she surfaces from. Cradled in her arms is an empty basket, revealing to Deidara that she made a delivery to someone within the shop's walls. She mentioned to him at some point that she does laundry for people, and this just so happens to be the day that she is making her rounds to return clothing.

Sighing, Deidara does his best to ignore her and continues up the trail. Unsurprisingly, Kaminari refuses to take the hint and keeps perfectly in step. She jabbers away the entire time.

"I don't know how you did it, but I'm really glad that you convinced her! I was afraid that she would keep you standing outside all day! Aimi can be really stubborn and set in her ways. Then again, so can everyone in Chouwa!" The girl leaps directly in his path of travel and walks backwards while making an inquiry. "Do you need help carrying your clay? No offense, but it looks heavy, and you're probably still sore. Heavy lifting and broken ribs aren't a good combination, you know."

Scowling in a goaded fashion, Deidara attempts stepping around her without a word in response. As expected, this method of evasion is unsuccessful. She moves directly in front of him every time, meeting his livid gaze with lively emerald orbs. To Deidara's surprise, beneath the girl's energetic exterior is a tinge of earnestness. Once his attempts at stepping around her reach five, astonishingly enough, the earnestness seen her eyes becomes the dominant emotion.

Placing a small, calloused, hand on one of his shoulders, Kaminari prevents him from trying to move around her a sixth time. She speaks again, her tone nothing short of disgusted.

"I know you can hear me, Akatsuki guy! It's rude to walk away from people when they're talking to you! Especially if the person talking to you is trying to help!" Huffing, she blows thick bangs of her face in frustration. "Didn't your mom teach you any manners?"

Glower intensifying, the flaxen-haired bomber is unable to detain his sarcastic bite. "With as obsessive as you are, I bet you'd like to know that, un. Now get out of my way. I want out of this backwater village."

Arms crossed over her ample bosom, she meets his cobalt irises with a glare of her own. With her nose scrunching and the puffing of her breath shifting raven bangs, the girl hardly looks threatening. If anything, Deidara would compare her to a kitten struggling to look like a tiger. Even so, there is no missing the scolding in her tone.

"I know that you want out of here. Who says I'm trying to stop you? All I'm saying is that you should let me help carry your clay to the edge of Chouwa. You're still hurt! If I don't help, you'll skewer one of your lungs or another intestine before you can make it halfway there!" Poking him roughly in the shoulder, she inquires, "You don't want to hurt yourself, do you?"

Narrowing his eyes, Deidara tries moving past the girl again. This time, to his relief, he is successful in this endeavor. As he saunters up the trail, he replies bluntly.

"I already told you that I'm not going to hurt myself. Your patchwork healing job will be sufficient enough for me to make it back to my partner. I'm going to be fine un."

More than anything, Deidara wishes that these words were true. As frustrating as it is, though, they're not. His abdomen throbs bitterly. With every step the throbbing increases, as if his broken ribs are expressing disdain. Nevertheless, he continues marching stubbornly with his clay in tow. A few seconds' pass and he readjusts the massive clay pouches, but it isn't any use. Upon shifting them so that they rest higher on his waist, the flaxen-haired bomber's pain increases. As a result, his body twitches and his posture begins stooping.

Kaminari, who stands less than a meter behind him, doesn't miss a single moment of agony. An expression of concern on her face by now rather than disgust, she rushes to his side. Once at his side, the girl immediately reaches out a hand to help steady him. Tucking the basket that she is carrying beneath an arm, she steadies him using her opposite hand as well. It is only after she has one of Deidara's shoulders in each hand that she elaborates on his response.

"Sorry, Akatsuki guy, but you don't look like you're going to be fine to me. You look like you're about to collapse. It shouldn't be surprising, though. When someone is recovering from major injuries, collapsing after walking around for too long seems pretty normal." Pausing, she inquires with a troubled pout, "I can still help you carry your clay, and better than that, my house is still open. You're not really going to try walking endless kilometers back to your Akatsuki partner when you could be resting and letting your ribs get better, are you?"

Irritated by the feel of her touch, Deidara jerks free. The instant he does this, he plans on telling her that he absolutely plans on walking kilometers to get to the other Akatsuki members and that he doesn't need any help at all toting his clay. Before he can force the words out, however, a particularly raw wave of pain strikes. His insides feel like they're being stung, causing Deidara to keel over partway. The wince that paints his features isn't missed, neither is the brief yet quiet groan he releases.

Grassy orbs widening, Kaminari doesn't hesitate to support him once more. Gently placing one of his arms around her shoulders, she does her best to help the flaxen-haired Akatsuki into an upright position. Once he is standing more so than before, she assists him in teetering forward step-by-step.

As much as he wants to, Deidara doesn't protest. The aching of his tattered ribcage doesn't allow it. Not to mention that, suddenly, he can see that Kaminari is right. If he tries carrying his clay up the path and out of the village, he will most likely impale one of his organs and collapse on the trail before he can make it to the halfway point. Deidara of the Akatsuki, killed in a tiny village in the middle of nowhere by punctured organs. He honestly isn't liking the sound of that…

It is for these reasons that Deidara groans. His groan isn't only of irritation, but is also one of compliance. Apparently Kaminari recognizes this, because she grins victoriously at the sound of it.

"What do you say, Akatsuki guy? Are you willing to stay at my place and rest up?"

Head drooping, he releases an aggravated sigh. "Under any other circumstances, I would say no, un. I think you're crazy and way too naïve." Pausing slightly, he adds, "But in this case, I guess I don't have a choice. I'll spend the rest of today resting, but only because it's necessary, un. I'm sure I'll feel better by tomorrow, and when I do, I'm gone."


Not once does Kaminari miss the way she is scowled at from the windows of shops and houses. Those who don't scowl at her gape in undiluted shock. There is one primary trail in Chouwa that leads to her house and out of the village, and unfortunately, the buildings running alongside it get thicker before thinning out. Once she and the Akatsuki guy reach her home, it isn't a secret that the entire village will know that she has again been fraternizing with a criminal.

They currently amble past the set of houses where her childhood playmates live, along with acquaintances of her father. They glare at her sullenly through translucent glass, shake their heads dejectedly, and one girl that Kaminari once called her best friend motions to her with a particularly obscene hand gesture. Kaminari can't refrain from flinching at the gesture from her past friend. True, she expected it, but it hits far more hurtfully than she imagined.

Another girl appears beside her past friend, this girl being her friend's elder sister. The oldest of the two shoves open the window that they're peeking out, shooting Kaminari the same bold gesture. They shout bitterly the whole time, their words impossible to ignore.

"Idiot! I hope he drags you into the woods and kills you!"

"He'll murder you in your sleep, Kaminari, and I won't come to your funeral when he does!"

It is blatant by their facial expressions that they want the girl to respond. Kaminari is certain that they would love to hear her shout back defensively. However, she doesn't take the bait. She averts her gaze from them, trains her eyes on the path ahead, and continues onward while supporting the Akatsuki guy. Kaminari does everything she can to pretend that the girls don't exist. Of course, this doesn't prevent further shouting from the duo. If anything, they grow louder.

"Go ahead, Kaminari! Keep walking and ignore us! It doesn't change the fact that an insane Akatsuki is going to rape and murder your naïve butt!"

"Even if he doesn't kill you, it doesn't matter! By the time the rest of Chouwa is through with you, you'll wish that he did! Don't think that we'll let you get away with helping an evil criminal!"

Once they're far enough up the trail so that their words can no longer be heard, Kaminari sighs internally. Fuji doesn't trust her, and neither do people who were once her playmates. The idea that her friends would turn on her so easily just because she wants to show a person some humanity is more than disappointing. It is truly saddening.

Having others glare at her from their windows doesn't work to lessen the sadness, neither does the raw egg that gets tossed her way. It is certainly a good thing that she is carrying the wicker basket, because the egg hits that rather than Kaminari.

Kaminari doesn't realize it, but throughout the duration of their walk the Akatsuki guy remains alert. The hostile glares, frowns of pity, harsh shouts, none of it escapes him. The only time it occurs to Kaminari exactly how much attention he has been paying is when the raw egg strikes her basket. He speaks for the first time since accepting her aid, and to say the least, his tone is derisive.

"I hope you realize that the pain you're putting yourself through is pointless, un. You're losing the trust of every person in your village, and you aren't even getting a friend out of it." Cobalt eyes filled with scoffing, he adds, "I'm not your friend, and that I never will be, un."

The girl knows that his words should hurt her, but oddly, they don't. Pulling his arm more securely around her shoulders, she gives him a small smile.

"You don't have to lecture me, you know. It would be nice if we could be friends, but I'm not expecting it. Nobody can force friendship." Pausing slightly, she adds, "Once we get to know each other, though, who knows? You could be wrong. For all you know, we could end up being very good friends."

People continue scowling at her from their windows, but for the first time since starting down the path, Kaminari doesn't notice. The only thing she pays attention is the jeering seen in the Akatsuki's cobalt gaze. Like before, the girl does not feel hurt or offended by his mockery. If anything, she views the boy's reaction as a challenge.

"Like I would ever become friends with someone so blindly optimistic, un. As an Akatsuki I don't make friends with too many people, but the friends that I do have are nothing at all like you. My friends are open-minded, inventive, and view the world abstractly. We don't talk to every stranger we see and look at the world as a big rainbow, un. We connect with life in an artistic sense."

Once he has concluded speaking, Kaminari giggles. As a result, the boy peers at her with a raised brow. He doesn't sound offended when he inquiries about her laughter. Rather, he seems uncertain.

"What is it, un?" he asks simply. "Is something I said funny?"

Kaminari nods eagerly. "Yes, actually. You just proved to me that you have no idea what I'm like. You didn't learn anything at all the first day you met me, or yesterday when I patched you up." Releasing another giggle, she continues. "Based on everything you just shared, I think we're going to get along great! Sure, I'm perkier and more smiley, but we're not too different besides that."

Upon hearing this, the boy sighs. "It's just like I said. Blindly optimistic, un."

The grin on Kaminari's face never vanishes. Even when another egg gets thrown at her, her smile stays securely in place. She has a feeling that the next day or so will go well.


"That's it, Akatsuki guy. We don't have to rush. Take it slow. One stair a time."

The rest of the walk to Kaminari's place of residence was a slow one. Though the Akatsuki guy tried hiding it, every step he took pained him. Winces, sharp intakes of breath, the occasional groan, none of it was missed by Kaminari. As a result, Kaminari insisted that they walk slow. By the time they reached her home, she found herself carrying his pouches of clay and supporting most of his weight. Right now, as they climb the stairs from the main level of her house to the second floor, Kaminari supports more of his weight than before. Of course, she doesn't mind this. If it keeps his body intact, the girl has no complaints.

Meanwhile, the Akatsuki guy replies to her remark. To say the least, his tone is exasperated.

"I know how to climb stairs, un. You don't have to direct me."

Grinning widely, Kaminari meets his irritated gaze cheerfully. "I know I don't have to direct you. I'm only directing you because I want to. It's part of being a good nurse."

The boy sighs. "If only I had a nurse that was less peppy and had actual medical training."

Kaminari responds while helping him up the next stair. Her grin never fades.

"I wish that too, to be honest. If I had real training, I could completely heal your ribs! Would that be great, or what?!" Giggling, she adds, "I don't wish for the part about being less peppy, though. I like my personality. Every day looks brighter when you're smiling!"

He gives an additional sigh at her response. "Kaminari, your smile is so bright that it's blinding."

She helps him up the final stair and into the main hallway. The whole time she replies with her smile increasing.

"Thanks! I'll take that as a compliment!"

Kaminari doesn't miss the way he narrows his eyes. "Of course you will, un. Why would I expect your reaction to be different?"

Keeping his arm secure around her shoulders, Kaminari supports him as they ascend the hallway. The Akatsuki's assigned guestroom is toward the center, giving them a sizable amount of space to cross. As they trek across the wood planks, Kaminari speaks once more.

"With as much as you slept yesterday, I don't know if you're tired, but you should try resting anyway. That tender spot on your intestine isn't going to finish healing itself if you're up walking around. Neither are the places where I stopped the internal bleeding. Whether you like it or not, healing should be your top priority, Akatsuki guy."

After she is finished, Kaminari glances at him. His cobalt eyes remain narrowed. Luckily, it isn't in hostility. Rather, he wears an expression of irritation. When he replies, his tone is equally cross.

"And I suppose while I'm trying to rest, you're going to hover over me like the excellent nurse you are, right? If that's the case, then I would hardly call the time I spend here 'resting', un."

The girl doesn't hesitate to answer his question. Unsurprisingly, she does so with a giggle.

"Hover over you? Of course not! Silly Akatsuki guy. I have way too much to do to be with you every second! I'll check on you every hour or two, and I'll have to examine your injuries and change your bandages, but I'll be out of your hair besides that. I need to get ninety candles made by tomorrow, and that isn't going to happen if I'm hovering over you like a mother hen."

Much to Kaminari's astonishment, aggravation vanishes from the Akatsuki's features. In its place is curiosity. Cobalt slants brimming with interest, he makes an inquiry.

"Candles? I thought that you were in the laundry washing business, un."

"I am," answers the raven-haired girl simply. "I spend part of my week washing clothes, part of it is spent baking, and then I usually take a day to make candles. I guess I do a bit of everything since the elderly pay me for it."

Curiosity never leaves the Akatsuki guy. Furrowing his brow skeptically, he asks an additional question.

"What does someone like you need money for? You're a kid living in a backwoods village with your father, un. It's not like you're spending money on jewelry or fun, and your father pays the bills, so I know that you're not earning money for that."

Very suddenly, Kaminari's cheerful demeanor decreases. She retains her smile and she still has a bounce to her step, though it comes off as forced rather than genuine. Apparently the boy notices her change in demeanor, because his brow furrows farther. When Kaminari averts her gaze from him and looks at the floor, he frowns in puzzlement. Kaminari doesn't notice this, though. She is far too occupied with maintaining her jovial disposition.

"Daddy paying the bills. Yeah. A person would think that," she states with a strained laugh.

Kaminari doesn't say anything more. Neither does the flaxen-haired Akatsuki. They walk the final few steps to his guestroom, Kaminari using her free hand to shove open the door. She sets the pouches of clay beside the nightstand and helps him settle into bed before moving toward the exit. Loitering in the doorway, the girl says one final thing prior to leaving the room. Her tone of forced optimism is securely in place.

"I'll change your bandages and check your wounds in a couple hours. Rest well, and holler if you need anything. The noises in this house echo with it being so big and quiet, so I will definitely hear you."

With that said, Kaminari takes her leave. She doesn't see it, but the boy stares after her with a small, inquisitive, frown.


Later

Deidara has had many problems in the fourteen years of his young life. His hair is so thick that sometimes his brush will break when attempting to detangle it. Before he trained the mouths on his hands to stay closed when he isn't using them, he'd formed the habit of accidentally biting himself. Not to mention the times when he has run out of clay when he needs it the most. Today, however, Deidara's problem is very basic. It is a problem that he can't ever remember dealing with. Boredom.

Once he made himself comfortable, Deidara planned on snoozing for the remainder of the day. However, he slept for less than an hour. He woke up and has been unable to resume slumber since then. Deidara has been rotating between sculpting clay birds, flipping through the books Kaminari left on the desk on the opposite side of the room, and staring longingly out the window. For the past three hours he has been doing this, the only exception being the period of time when Kaminari came in to examine him. Although, with Deidara healing well, she wasn't in here for long. Between examining him using her chakra and changing his bandages, it only took fifteen minutes before she was gone again.

As strange as it is, Deidara is starting to miss the crazy girl's presence. She might talk too fast and maybe she is excessively cheerful, but at least Kaminari gives him someone to talk to. Admittedly, he isn't used to being by himself. When on missions, Deidara always has Sasori to talk to. Then, when at the hideout, he usually finds himself conversing with Kisame, Kakuzu, and at rare times, Hidan. Sure, most of the time he is crafting his clay bombs, but this is rarely done in silence. Whether he is speaking to his partner or another Akatsuki member, Deidara converses while creating his art.

It is true that Deidara hasn't been a member of the Akatsuki for long, but during his time as a member, he has grown accustom to having others around. Suddenly being thrust into solitude seems surreal…

Putting the finishing touches on one of his birds, but not bothering to infuse it with chakra due to a lack of space for detonation, Deidara shifts his gaze to the window. More than anything he wants to go outside. If he is injured and alone, then he would at least like to detonate some of his bombs. Nothing makes a person feel better than igniting large-scale explosions, Deidara always says. The way the volatile colors light up the sky before vanishing a few seconds later is a sight that is truly inspiring! Of course, Kaminari would block his path and usher him back to bed before he could get as far as the door, so going outside is an impossible thing. It isn't worth blowing Kaminari to pieces or threatening her, either. She's right, after all. He really is too badly injured to be up and about.

Fantasies of going outside waning, Deidara sighs and shifts his gaze to the desk on the other side of the room. He would read one of the books that are stacked atop it, but honestly, they're very boring. They aren't works of fiction or books on philosophy, but rather, they are about things such as science and medicine. He'd only read through the first page of each of them before returning them to the desk and creating sculptures. He was satisfied with crafting clay birds for a while, and even expanded to other animals. Of course, Deidara can only make so many sculptures before becoming dissatisfied. Being unable to detonate his artwork is very frustrating.

Setting the piece he is currently crafting on the bedside table, Deidara transfers his gaze once more. This time he looks toward the exit. After sitting for multiple hours and having Kaminari recheck his injuries, his abdomen isn't nearly as sore as it was earlier. It is because of this that Deidara has a half mind to do some low-level exploring. While he hasn't spent too much time in Kaminari's house, he has seen enough of it to know that there are a fair number of rooms on the second level. With as crazy as the girl is, it would make sense that there might be something interesting laying around.

Once his clay is set aside, Deidara stares at the door hesitantly for an entire minute. This isn't because he feels guilty about potentially searching another person's home out of boredom, but because he questions if the effort will be worth it. Will he find something to occupy his attention, such as a book that is interesting or a box of secrets, or will he come across dull rooms filled with piles of laundry and candle molds? The latter thought is almost enough to cause Deidara to groan in agony. Of course, upon mulling it over, he immediately realizes that stumbling across work-related materials is better than sitting here doing nothing. It is for this reason that the boy shoves himself out of bed and saunters toward the door.

Bare feet contacting coarse floorboards, Deidara pushes open the door and gazes into the narrow corridor. Looking to his left, he sees six concealed rooms along with the top of the staircase. Even from the home's upper level he can hear the clanging of pots and pans, suggesting that Kaminari is still making candles. Emerging fully into the hallway and walking several paces to the left, the noises grow louder. Along with metallic clanging comes cheerful humming, as well as the lyrics, '...stir it with a gentle wrist, and this is how I melt my candle wax!'. Deidara grimaces at the sound her singing. The girl's soprano voice is so sweet that he feels he should go to the dentist.

Knowing that Kaminari is stooped in her task, and that she probably will be for another hour, Deidara ambles toward the corridor's opposite end. He passes by the bathroom as well as his assigned guestroom without a second thought. Moving deeper into the house than he has ever considered going before, he passes multiple closed doors. All of them appear faultlessly identical, making it difficult to choose which one he should open. Once he is at the tail end of the hallway he looks each of the doors over, assessing them to see if any appear more enticing than the others. As expected, none of them do.

Deidara shrugs his shoulders in nonchalance. What was he expecting? For one of the doors to be vividly painted? This is Chouwa. Of course everything in this house looks the same! When he turns the knob of the door closest to him only to find an empty closet, Deidara's thoughts are confirmed. This house is in the backwater village of Chouwa, so it will no doubt be grotesquely plain. Stepping across the hallway and shoving open the door parallel to the closet, he finds that this one leads to a room bare of everything besides dust. At this, the boy sighs.

"An empty closet and an empty room. This is exciting, un."

Pulling both doors closed, Deidara saunters over to the next one. This door is on his left and is three rooms away from his guestroom. Frowning slightly, half expecting to stumble across another empty space, Deidara turns the knob and flings it open. When he gazes inside of this room, however, he ends up being surprised. It certainly isn't empty. With a twin-sized bed, a desk, a wardrobe, and feminine touches such as floral print curtains, Deidara would say that this is Kaminari's room. However, these aren't the only things that Kaminari's room consists of. Put simply, her bedroom is incredible.

Spread atop Kaminari's desk and scattered across the floor are thick pieces of paper and numerous portions of canvas. From what Deidara can see from the doorway, graphite doodles are coating the pages and amongst the doodles are splotches of acrylic. They aren't accidental splotches. Rather, they are intentional. It would be apparent to nearly anyone that the paper had been used to mix paint. As for the portions of canvas, they are bursting vividly with color. Trees, animals, abstract works consisting of designs and shapes, the canvases contain a bit of everything. Several pieces of canvas are half-painted and half covered by graphite, as if they are not yet finished.

The only thing more enchanting than her desk and the floor are her bedroom walls. One wall is covered by an odd assortment of trees. Everything from green trees, to autumn trees of reds and oranges, to palm and birch trees are painted. It's as if Kaminari couldn't decide which tree to paint, so she painted them all. Another wall is covered by odd contrasts of summer beaches and winter glaciers. To Deidara, it looks as though she was trying to make both seasons merge harmoniously. Oddly enough, her vision came together well. As for the third wall, it doesn't contain a specific scene. It is coated by abstract shapes and patterns, one side being done in warm colors and the other in cool colors. The center of that wall, conversely, wasn't painted using either of these schemes. It is painted in black and white. As strange as it is, Kaminari's abstract work came together fantastically.

To some, this room would look like a warzone. To others, the bizarre works would make it look like a cry for help. To Deidara, on the other hand, it doesn't look like either of these things. The only thing Deidara sees is art.