Chapter Seven…
"That's not true, Hidan-san." Deidara was shaking, trying hard to stop.
"Hey…I'm sorry, kiddo. It's all part of the code, killing and all, you see. But…If we didn't kill off people, no one would go to heaven. Everyone would just go to hell. Blood is the payment to cover up our misdoings. And she realized it and gave herself up willingly." He stopped preaching for a second—realized that the boy was now an emotional wreck.
"I don't even remember her face! How could I have a sister? You lied—you made it all up! I don't remember her! I don't! I don't! I can't!"
"Calm down, kiddo. If she had lived to be a bit older, then you would have remembered her."
"Then…then you killed her." Hidan shrugged.
"I don't like doing this. But she asked me. So…technically, I didn't kill her. She asked to be killed."
"Whatever. You can have my dinner, un."
"Oh, thanks!" Deidara stood to leave and dragged his foot all the way to the entrance of the kitchen. "Wait, kiddo." He turned to face the man.
"What?"
"I wasn't lying. I remember her, clear as anything," he assured the boy. His face was grave and serious. "Death isn't something to be dealt with lightly. I don't joke about death. Or Jashin-sama."
"I…I understand, un." He was dizzy and needed to lie down. "Thanks, un."
"No prob," Hidan acknowledged with a wave of his chopsticks.
In the hallway, a wave of nausea swept over the boy.
"It isn't true…isn't true…isn't true…" He bumped into something hard and warm.
"What a greeting! I'm happy to be back here." Oh damn. Not him…
"G-get away from me, un!" Cried an alarmed Deidara. Oh no, not the fish-man.
"Why? You're the one that hugged me!" Kisame sneered. "What, you didn't like the first one?"
"Agh! Go away!" The last thing I wanted to see was this guy! He was caught, large, blue arms encircling his thin frame. "H-hey! Get off!" He swung his legs and hit it right where 'the sun don't shine'. Kisame immediately let go of the boy, bending in half, panting for air.
"Holy … … that hurt! Get back here you … !" Deidara grimaced at the sudden onslaught of words. He had been called a 'female dog' too many times for his liking in his life. "Hey pretty boy!" Deidara stopped in mid step, a vein revealing itself on his sweaty forehead. "Yeah you! Get back here!" The boy turned and started to walk towards Kisame. He grinned at the man who was still in severe pain and raised his good leg and swung.
Ouch.
Twice in the same spot…not a walk in the park.
He left the man lying on the ground, blasphemies following him around the corridor until he hit his room. As soon he closed the door behind him, he saw Sasori carefully working on the shell of Hiruko. Sasori looked up and saw the haunted and pleased look clashing in the boy's eyes.
"What happened, brat?"
"Nothing, un," Deidara said nonchalantly.
"I'm pretty sure that was Kisame shouting those things. You know explosives aren't allowed in the premises."
"You're too shrewd for your own good, Danna," Deidara complained. Then he continued. "I accidentally ran into Kisame. He tried to hug me, and I kicked him. Then he told me, 'come back, Pretty Boy' and so I did and kicked him again." He was evidently satisfied in what he had done.
"…There?" Sasori asked incredulously.
"Yeah, there." Deidara looked fairly satisfied with what he had done.
"I think…you need to apologize. He won't be able to walk straight for a few weeks if you've injured that." Deidara scowled.
"No way, Danna. He violated me, un! I told him to get off and he hugged me!" He shuddered. "I have Kisame germs on me now!"
"…" Sasori looked up from his work, sandpaper in hand. "That's…an elementary way of saying it…" Deidara grinned. So did his hands. He took out a piece of clay and sat down next to Sasori.
"Brat," Sasori said suddenly. Deidara looked up. "Those hands of yours…do they need special care? Extra food or anything like that? Can they talk?" The boy began the laugh.
"Sasori no danna! I didn't know you were that stupid, un!" He immediately stopped in horror, just realizing what he had just said. However, the puppeteer looked a little amused himself.
"Well? What kind of cares do they need?"
Deidara began to grin again. "Extra food, Danna? Are you crazy? They don't have any intestines—they're a part of me, un. My energy is what keeps 'em alive! And who ever said they had a larynx? They can't talk, they can't hear. They do what I tell 'em to do, un. They just need to have their teeth brushed once in a while to keep them healthy." He grinned at the clay in his hands, while Sasori resumed his work.
Suddenly, the boy's mirth disappeared.
"Sasori no danna…" The puppeteer slowed his movements, indicating he was listening. "Did I…have a sister?" Sasori stopped moving completely.
"How would I know, brat?" Deidara frowned.
"Hidan-san said…Hidan-san said he killed my sister. So maybe…maybe…you know who he killed?" Sasori frowned.
"Did he tell you what she was like?"
"He said…He said she had beautiful eyes and…long blonde hair…like this color." He pointed to his head. "That's all I know…"
Sasori was silent. Not like his usual, 'shut up, I'm thinking of how to say this' silent, but an…ominous sort of silent. Deidara prodded the redhead carefully.
"…Danna?"
"It's nothing." He turned back to sanding Hiruko's plating. Deidara stared hopelessly at the puppeteers back.
"You know something, Danna."
The puppeteer denied that he knew anything. "Whatever Hidan does between his 'god' and him, stays between him and his 'god'."
"Danna, you know something, un."
Damn his perception skills… "So what if I did?"
"Tell me, un," he ordered.
"Well…he never told me a thing. So drop the subject and rest."
Damn his emotionless face! "Fine. Night, Danna." He slipped under the covers, not bothering to brush his teeth, and closed his eyes.
:-::-::-:
After tossing and turning for half an hour, Deidara groaned and sat up abruptly. He was tired, yet…restless.
"I hate this feeling!" He complained aloud. Sasori appeared from the corner of his eye, a brush in hand.
"Be quiet, brat. I'm trying to work, and this coat is the most important step of all."
Deidara crept over to the puppeteer's side. "May I watch?" Sasori glared at him incredulously. "Er…quietly?"
Sasori nodded his consent and dipped his brush into a large can of clear liquid.
"This is to protect the wood from the weather, to keep it from eroding and fissuring," the redhead informed the boy, knowing full well that Deidara was curious. He slowly coated the wood with the liquid, making it shine in the lamplight.
It was a slow process which obviously bored the boy. But he had promised to be quiet, so quiet he was. Finally, Sasori set Hiruko aside and stood up. He shook the dozing boy awake.
"Get to sleep. It's late."
"Huh…? Whazzuh…?" He scrubbed his eyes with his palms, squinting up at the puppeteer. Sasori offered a hand to the boy. Deidara took it and pulled himself up.
"It's late."
The boy nodded dazedly, groping his way to his bed. "G'night, Sasori no danna…" It was quiet for a long while, and Sasori believed the boy was asleep. However, "Danna."
"What now?"
"What's your favorite bird, un?"
Sasori thought for a moment. "Why?"
"Birds are something to be appreciated, Danna."
"…"
"I'm waiting…!"
The redhead sighed and answered grudgingly. "The barn owl."
"Why?"
"What has gotten into you, brat?" He asked, relieved that Deidara did not think ill of his choice.
"Just answer, Danna, please, un."
"Owls are usually depicted as wise, decrypt and cunning creatures. They use their head. And anyway, they…are fairly graceful. Their wings and color…Their prey do not know what is upon them until they are dead. Is that good enough?"
"Mmkay, Danna. Thanks."
"Is this a survey, brat?"
There was no answer from the boy. Soon after, his soft snores filled the room.
Sasori looked at the boy, making sure that he was asleep. Then he stood up and made his way to a small crevice in the wall next to his bed. He performed a few hand seals. A doorway appeared, the stony surface grumbling and groaning. He entered it and sealed the doorway.
Inside, he lit a lamp that hung from the ceiling. It illuminated many bodies and pieces of wood, all in neat piles of unknown categories. He headed towards what looked to be a coat rack and looked inside.
In between a hairy, bulbous man and a sickly looking teen hung a petite girl.
Her hair was golden, and her clear blue eyes expressed what no other eyes could. She was, seemingly, the only one of her kind.
With the exception of Deidara.
:-::-::-:
Deidara awoke to a throbbing pain in his leg. He scowled and peeked under the bandages. It wasn't infected, but the damage looked…well, ugly.
"Here are the things you need to dress that wound. I have things to attend to." Sasori dumped the materials onto the boy's bed. He stared into the tuft of hair that kept his eye hidden.
"Okay…see you, then," Deidara said. The puppeteer swept out of the room without a word.
"…Eww…" Deidara moaned as he poked the sticky antiseptic. He sighed, pulled off the bandages and set to work.
:-::-::-:
The boy had been working on a little sculpture for a while before his stomach rumbled in complaint.
"I'm hungry," Deidara announced to the walls. He stood up and pushed the sculpture into a dark, hidden corner where it would stay anonymous and moist until he came back. He chuckled. "This is gonna be something I'm sure Sasori no danna will like…" He scurried out to the hall.
"Hey, kiddo," came a nonchalant voice. Deidara turned and saw Hidan leaning against the wall casually.
"Wha—what are you doing here?" Hidan gave him a weird look.
"I … live here, kid."
"No…I mean, in front of my room."
The silver haired man rolled his eyes.
"Wanted to talk to you." The boy looked away, his eyes narrowing to slits.
"What about?" Hidan glanced at him from the corner of his eyes.
"About your sister." Deidara flinched and turned towards the man slowly. Receiving no response, Hidan continued. "You should ask Sasori about her. He…knew her quite well." The boy stared at him incredulously.
"How?"
Hidan laughed. "Ask him about her, okay?" Deidara nodded cautiously, then turned and fled to the kitchen.
:-::-::-:
Soon, the boy had finished several bowls of rice and soup. He headed back to his room. No fish intercepted his way. He smiled as his shut the door to his room, heading to his now designated work corner. He pulled out his unfinished sculpture and began to mold it. The body and wings were already complete. His fingers made their way up to the face. He carefully formed a fine, chiseled beak on the flat face.
Using his fingernails, he sketched in little guidelines for the speckles.
He set it aside after that, leaving it in the corner. It had been a while, just creating the random spots on the sculpture. He lazily flopped on his bed, stretching his arms behind his head. He closed his eyes, figuring that a little catnap wouldn't hurt…
:-::-::-:
The boy had fallen, had cried. The tender skin on his knee had split, leaked crimson. The girl picked up the two year old, sat him on her lap and began to sing.
Somewhere, a voice calls, in the depths of my heart
May I always be dreaming, the dreams that move my heart
So many tears of sadness, uncountable through and through
I know on the other side of them I'll find you
He hiccuped, looked up at his older, female counterpart.
Everytime we fall down to the ground we look up to the blue sky above
We wake to it's blueness, as for the first time
Though the road is long and lonely and the end far away, out of sight
I can with these two arms embrace the light
The boy had reached up, had laughed and cried, "Mama!" The girl had gently pushed his hand aside and answered, firmly,
"No. No. She isn't here. She's not coming back." She had stroked the boy's soft blonde hair and looked into his cerulean eyes. "You understand, Dei-chan?"
"Sissy-chan?" He had tilted his head to the side, his eyes wide and mouth in a slight pout. She had laughed, and began to sing once again…
:-::-::-:
A soft click startled the boy out of his light slumber.
"Sasori no danna?" The redhead entered his line of vision.
"Have you been sleeping this whole entire time, brat?"
"I dunno," he shrugged, slowly sitting up. A sharp pang reminded Deidara of his wounded leg. "Oops," was all he said before resituating himself to fix the bandage. Sasori shrugged, turned to Hiruko and began to tinker with it once more. Deidara glanced over in annoyance. "How many times must you fix and refix that piece of…er…that puppet?" Sasori noted the effort to try not to annoy him. He decided not to lose his temper.
"You know a puppeteer's weakness. We attack from afar, succeptable to close range attacks."
"So you hide in that thing…er, puppet, un?"
Sasori couldn't help but smirk. "I don't care what you call my art, brat, just don't call it 'crap'. I think we now understand we have different views of what art is. Although, I'm the one who's artistically correct, but it doesn't matter much."
"Oh, why thanks, Danna, un," Deidara grumbled jokingly. Then he remembered what Hidan had told him. "Oh, right! Danna…Hidan-san said you…knew my sister?" Sasori paused, setting down the puppet hand he had been testing.
"You are still going on about that?" Deidara looked unhappy and did not answer. "Well. Alright, brat. Since you want to know so badly…" He motioned for the boy to follow him. Deidara obliged. He watched with disbelief as Sasori performed a single hand seal, revealing a hidden door that was embedded in the wall. It opened slowly with a groan, allowing the two ninjas in.
Deidara looked around him, eyes wide with surprise and slight disgust.
"Well? Take a look around, brat." The boy did not react like Sasori did many, many years ago to the Sand's faulty puppet collection, with pleased surprise and exhilaration. Deidara approached the dead bodies, now puppets, with disgust and revoltion, afraid of what he would find, not excited of what he would discover like every true artist should have been. Sasori observed the boy with a cold and satisfied glare.
Deidara made his way to the last cabinet of human-turned-puppets. He shifted from one foot to another, peeking through the dark, thick cloth of the puppets.
Finally, he found her.
Her blonde, shining hair swayed as he touched it with a shaking hand. Her face frozen in an expressionless mask of nothing. His eyes made his way up to her eyes.
Her eyes.
Those blue, glowing orbs of pure, raw emotion. They glimmered and he imagined he could hear her say, "I love you, Dei-chan!" once more. One last time.
Then, a surge of emotion flooded his senses. She left me! She left me!
He raised his fist in cold fury. She was selfish! She didn't care…she left me!
The face caves in with a sickening crunch, and the boy does not bother to nurse his bleeding hand.
The two eyes fall with a soft plink plink against the ground.
He breathes heavily, his chest rising and falling unevenly. He coughs, and Sasori stiffens. But it passes.
She left me.
She left me with him
She left me to die
The boy stalked out of the puppet room, his sister's face smashed into the wall, the two eyes gleaming with tears.
