DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of this people… So… yeah. The plot is mine… But that's about it. =.=

A/N: So many reviews… And just for three chapters… You guys are awesome! *gives pocky to the good little reviewers and readers* All us SasoDei fans need to stick together because just cause they are 'gone' does not mean they are gone in are hearts where we are obsessed with yaoi! (For those of you that read the manga, you should know why I put the little quotations around the word gone :3) But thanks guys! I'm so happy you love what I write and I could never have imagined that everyone would like it so much.

Reviews are always welcomed and are read. I appreciate you opinions, praise and encouragement. It makes me feel nice and refreshed to hear someone's criticism though, so don't hold back! If you visited my profile (I don't care if you do or don't, its pretty basic and boring :P) but my main goal is to make the reader feel an emotion. That maybe kinda hard to do in the first couple chaps but please tell me if you do feel something!

Anyways, here's your new chap. I'll just stop talk so you can get reading!

DAY 3 – WEDNESDAY – 10:32 P.M.

Things were not going well on Sasori's end. It was only one minute into the conversation and he was already losing in the game of support. The brat had called only a few seconds earlier, said hello and hadn't said anything else since then. Noticing the attitude the teen was in, Sasori became even more weary to the fact that Deidara may be getting worse, and not better as he was supposed to be. Though, Sasori noted in his head, for the person to get better, he would have to talk to him, instead of being in this dead silence. Knowing the pro's and con's of the redhead's straight forward nature, he decided it was worth taking a chance, just to break the ice.

"I went to that exhibit you mentioned yesterday, it turns out it was all donated works from around the city."

"Really…? Anything worth seeing, un?" The voice on the other end was soft and had a strange tint to it, as if the brat didn't have a care to subject. Ignoring this, Sasori continued where he left off, adding more strength to his words.

"There were some interesting pieces, even though not all of them seemed to be authentic. I don't prefer to go down town that often, but I needed to pick up some books and there is a good café I know down there, so it fit into my schedule to visit the museum. Did you get a chance to visit?"

"No." The brat's tone suddenly turned a few notches for emphasis. But seeing how he got a reaction, the redhead perused further.

"There was actually a sculptures area. You said you preferred clay, yes? I would think you'd be interested in that at least."

"School gets out at two-thirty and the bus ride to there to my mom's house is only forty minuets, un. But since I'm staying at my dad's for next couple of days, it takes an hour and a half by bus. The museum closes at exactly four on week days. There would be no way for me to get there before closing, un." Deidara was now more confident in his wording also. Though it was lacking in emotion, there definitely was some defense behind it.

"I see…" Sasori took a step into the known and relaxed his body as he prepared for the impact. It was not like him and his calm composure to pry into the life of others, but this was indeed a special case with tricky matters that needed to be treated with careful hands. One wrong move and a death could unintentionally end up on his door step again, and Sasori was already balancing on wires, he couldn't afford to be so careless. So, he worded everything to his mind's liking before he spoke this time.

"There was actually a teenager I saw there," he continued. "They also seemed to still be a student since they were carrying a back pack around. So you wouldn't have been alone if you skipped school."

"…" The line became void of sound except for a few small sounds of movement. It seemed like the brat was changing location to hold this conversation, for he could now hear feet going up stairs, a door shut, and then a few more moments of silence 'til the redhead heard squeaks that must have been from springs.

"Sorry… My step mom says that no one is allowed to use any type of phone in the house, un…"

"Hn, brat, are you sure-"

"Why do you always call me 'brat'?" The teen quickly changed the subject. "I told you my name didn't I? It's Deidara, un."

"You usually act like a brat. Do you prefer kid?"

"And how come you never told me your name? That's not very fair…" He continued in his small rant with a softer voice, as if he didn't have much energy to spare.

This was a very good thing to notice. Kisame and Kakuzu said to watch for mood swings and how much energy a regular has. Anger, sadness and insane filled actions were something to be careful of, but when a regular is suddenly happy and seems calmer after a long period of depression, that's when you had to watch out. Because more signs of depression were not eating, loss of enthusiasm and over sleeping were very common, it would make sense they wouldn't actually kill themselves, especially when they didn't even have enough energy to carry on with life. Its only when they do seem to be full of good spirits that you should be worried.

Knowing these facts, it made the redhead's job easier to know what to watch out for and how to handle it.

"I don't see the point of you knowing my name." Was his response to the teen on the other end.

"There's a very good point… It helps me know that you're a real person…"

He just had to say that…

Sasori covered the phone with his hand and let out a gruff sigh of frustration. Now leaning back over his chair, he saw Kisame around the small wall. He was talking on the phone with who Sasori expected to be Itachi, his blue co-worker's regular. Tapping on the thin wall to grab the other's attention, Kisame covered his phone also, and looked at the artist.

"Is it alright for a regular to know your name?"

"I guess. Me and Kakuzu told our regular's our names. It can't do no harm I guess." The blue man shrugged with a single laugh and went back to his chatter, leaving the artist hanging on a choice with a few quick seconds of though.

Relaxing slightly, Sasori did the same.

"Do you really want to know my name?"

"It would put us on even playing grounds. And it would make me feel more comfortable to call you by your name instead of nothing at all, un."

"Fine, my name is Aksuna Sasori."

There was a pause.

"Sasori… That sounds familiar, un…"

"Is there something wrong with my name?" To accompany his own nuisance, both of his index fingers started to twitch with sudden anxiety. He knew very well that it was his own thoughts of his past that made his digits click, and that it had nothing to do with the brat on the other end. But, just the littlest push at apprehension, and his guard was up like a steel wall, ready to go to wits end to protect its core.

"I may have heard of it… Before."

"Impossible."

"You said you were an artist right?"

"Yes. What does that have to do with my name?" Sasori snipped his sentences now, but his regular didn't seem to notice his sudden change in manner.

"Sasori… That's it! You made Hiruko!" Realization came with a sound level of normal quality, this surprised the redhead, for the brat knew about his favorite achievement.

"You know about Hiruko?"

"Un. I went to one of his shows and was very amazed. It was almost like a new sport."

This was an interesting statement from Deidara. For, to some extents, it almost could be a sport. His art was not just making puppets, but me made eternal marionettes of battle. The Hiruko that the brat saw was merely a finely done replica for show, while the very real and very lethal Hiruko resided at his apartment. Though the replica was filled with tricks diverse enough to please a crowd, the original was a master piece of destructive power. Poisons so toxic that it would burn your lungs if you were in a mile's radius. Knives sharp enough to split a sky scraper. Ebony smoke bombs able to suffocate and paralyze faster than any tranquilizer. His favorite puppet was always beyond the standard.

The petty show Deidara must have seen was only the replica competing in a small battle against another puppet of inferior complexity. The two puppets fought with their limited weapon stock, with fake Hiruko winning hands down by far, and now was on display at Central museum in the city.

It was nice for the teen on the other end to appreciate his work, but overall, he didn't even know the half of it.

"I see."

"Do you make other puppets like Hiruko?"

"Making puppets is my art, so of course." A sadistic smile covered his face as he remembered the few special puppets he had. The most brutal, strong, deadly puppets came with the most pain, blood and sacrifice he had ever created, for himself, and others. But nothing is created out of a nothing.

"I get it… But… That thing wasn't very hansom, un…" The teen's voice was soft and now almost reserved again. The change was just as quick and noticeable as the last one, the mood swing list now going from drained, to normal and then to a timid state. Interesting…

"Its not supposed to be for show, its supposed to last forever, throughout time, and still be strong."

"I don't see the point, art is fleeting, un…"

"No brat, what would be the point of something that disappears as soon as its born? Art is everlasting, art is eternal."

"It wouldn't disappear, it would be remembered."

"But you would never be able to see it ever again, never to admire all the work and beauty. Then what?"

"Then you would get the viewers attention even more, because they would want to see the beauty, but never be able to… I have to go, I'm already pushing it staying on the phone this late, un… Fleeting!" The dial tone sounded and he was tricked yet again by the teen. Sighing with now an abundance of irritation, he let the phone fall back on the charger.

"Fool me once, shame on you… Fool me twice? Shame on me." The redhead mumbled under his breath.

It was half passed midnight, with a odd note stuck to the thin wall that separated him from his other co-worker's areas. The note read as followed:

'Sasori-

I noticed how much fun you were having talkin' to your new regular, so I locked up for ya. Have a good night.

-Kisame'

It wasn't until that second that the redhead noticed that he had been carelessly fallen into the brat's ploy so he could avoid the very question Sasori wanted to ask in the first place. Clever.

"Well played, Deidara." He smirked, and started to gather his things for home.

DAY 5 – FRIDAY – 9:30 A.M.

The sun should have been up, but the clouds covered the sky like a dull face. It wasn't that dark, but on the horizon, a sea of storms, thunder and lightning were only miles away. It was going to rain, if not in the afternoon, but in the evening for sure.

The wind teasing with his messy red curls, he was ready to set off. With his long sleeved trench coat flowing out, its collar was pulled up against the wind to protect him from the wind. An umbrella in hand for when he would return to his quiet home, he was ready for the day and anything that nature could press him with.

His day was filled with errands to run and things to do. It was going to be a long day. But not as long as the night before when the brat hadn't called, keeping his promise and leaving Sasori bored all night to deal with his co-worker's teasing. It wasn't the best night, and the day didn't guarantee much either. Though, there was going to be one good thing, he was going to be alone with whatever peace the city had to offer, and he was definitely going to take advantage that.