I have that feeling when someone had been looking for you, and you don't know it is for good or bad news. It was someone that never looks for me, or even pays attention to me, so why is she looking for me?

Worrying, much…

Sorry, I have been training for QCS and have no time for writing. I have been scared that if I don't write frequently I'll lose the talent forever, I'm a child like that. But yes, I have been very busy with assignments and studying and tests and etc.

Also, my computer is broken, as in at the end of its life after a lifetime of love x. My replies to reviews will take longer but I appreciate every review and every nice word, it helps me get the motivation to write this to you fanfiction fangirls –and boys-.

NOTE! In this story, I forgot all about Deidara's mouth hands so let's just say they don't exist. :)

It was an endearing little park, with rusted swings and broken toys that still called for children that were too scared to approach. Over time the colours had faded, the sense of isolation could be felt with the sting of frost. Itachi wasn't scared, he looked from the merry go round, to the slides and finally laid his vision on the swings that danced softly in the gale. As he passed each item of age, the young man ran a hand over its surface. The red rust of time imbedded tenderly into the palms of his hand. When he touched the see-saw it slammed its other half to the overgrown floor, but Itachi did not feel the sense of fear.

He placed his backside on the swing and pushed off with ash covered soles, easing to the noise of the chain against the once rosy frame.

To a passerby, the lost boy would've looked like a misplaced banshee with tangled black locks.

Itachi remembered taking his brother to this park, playing on this swing. Is this why he had travelled here on running feet? He had more or less let his feet guide him across the stone and sand, away from the fire.

The memory of the fire didn't hurt currently, it was just there. It was similar to a glitch, it was simply present and had always been nearby. The Uchiha swung higher until his back began sinking with gravity every time he reached for the heavens. Even from here, the smoke was visible; like a black blot on a page of history. It had all started from petty emotions and raged in this, a tragedy. Not only to Itachi -who no longer felt the pain he would've-, but to those with teary eyes and connections with those who were gone. If the boy with pure blood had the power to, he would feel empathy towards those who did cry.

Each time he swung the noise rose in pitch until howls circled the neighbourhood. Itachi let his right hand grasp for the top of the trees while his left held on not for life, but more for the moderate sense of safety he still had.

"If a body meets a body…" Itachi sung to himself softly, but stopped when a silhouette approached from afar in the same direction he had. The figure had been following him, the Uchiha was sure. It came closer until it stood next to the merry go round.

A determined boy with a bruised cheek held two suitcases in each trembling hand. Two hard thuds echoed down the path as he placed them on the ground. The boy had been crying, weeping until he could picture his brother's face without breaking. He stood with his feet apart, red converse contrasting against the stone riddled path. There was silence, both waiting for Deidara to speak. He gulped down his fears and doubts, and reread the lines he had given himself.

"I've bought two tickets to Paris" Deidara said "you're coming with me, un"

Itachi held the bars as loosely as he did seconds ago but did not fall, his face still absent of an emotion. Slowly the swing took Itachi to the floor, back to where he remained empty. The anger he wished he felt would've fuelled into his hands, slammed the blonde haired head into the bars until the blood ran over the worn innocence. Even with an act so sinful, he wished he could feel something instead of the cold.

"No"

"Why not?" his brother replied in a snarky tone. Itachi did not respond. Each second of hush enraged Deidara further, to the point that he walked towards the child's games with terrible intentions. He seized Itachi's collar and pulled his loose hands from the chains, throwing him several steps in the other direction. The detached man fell like a ragdoll with no intention of getting up. The ground was cold against his cheek, as if only half of his face had been bathed in the morning frost. His brother waited for him to get to his feet but he didn't.

"Why are you like this?" the blonde shrieked, running to his brothers side and pulling him to his feet "Dealing with Sasuke is hard, but you can't lock yourself up like this, un! You can talk to me! How do you think I feel, your own brother?"

"You're not my brother" the boy muttered, half suspended in the man's desperate grip. The cold side of his face was hit, hard or soft it didn't matter; he fell back to the ground.

"STOP SAYING THAT!"

In houses miles away a child sat upright in her bed and wondered if her mother was screaming at her father once more. She felt her skin tingle with fear, and grabbed her stuffed toy between small fingers.

In a park before the house around the hill with one tree, Deidara broke the promise he made to himself while running through the streets. He doubled over and couldn't see the sky from the floor with the tears glistening in his eyes. The words Itachi said were pulling the fragments of flesh from his bones and placing a hand in his heart to slowly squeeze. Deidara tried to stand, and fell; the words kept him still. Itachi watched and tried to remember the emotion that was being displayed.

"Goodbye, Kisame" Itachi choked, and closed the door.

Yes, he remembered it now, but feeling it was something entirely different.

Suddenly, a hand tangled through his hair, another clasped around his neck firmly. The eldest of the two couldn't breathe but he didn't struggle. So what if he was to die, he thought. The hand moved from his hair, curled into a fist and broke the beauty of Itachi Uchiha in half. His attacker straddled him roughly and hit the other side of his face, smashing his skull into the ground once more.

Deidara didn't fight him out of anger, or out of the bruise that swelled upon his face like a desert flower. He beat his brother to blisters because he wanted to shake the dead look out of his eyes. A crunch under his fist made him shiver, pulling his hand to his face the youngest saw stray black hairs stuck underneath his nails with the colour of rouge.

Itachi bled and bruised and didn't care in the slightest. The pain was inevitable, but was something that he could feel. His brothers had found the sense to disown him, and he couldn't care if he wanted to. The man he loved was nothing anymore, and for once he wished he could cry about it. There was only a thick chill running through his veins, he trembled from the cold but Deidara thought it was from the blood dripping from his nose. Nimble fingertips trailed over bloodstains and darted away quickly, replaced by Deidara's shirt trying to scrub the wounds away. His sobs of realisation and the bruises over Itachi's eyes was killing him, slowly but surely.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please, I'm sorry. Say something Itachi, say something! Please!"

Itachi focused upon his brother by law, eyes unable to focus on his face. His vision was almost tinted red, was it his eyes being mischievous or the blood staining them? He opened his mouth, but struggled with the words, his tongue was slack from the rough treatment. The words he spoke were damp with saliva and blood.

"Just go home, Deidara"

He thought he was going to get punched, hit or beaten within the inches he had left in his life. His words would surely fuel a rage that would not rest until he returned to normal, which was even harder than dying. Deidara's teeth were pulled into an angry snarl and the hand that he placed over Itachi's eyes was surely to provide relief for the other.

This was death, so ironic.

Now, there was only darkness, nothing but the stench of ash to give him a sense of direction. The broken man couldn't tell if he was dead or not. If he was dead Kisame would die too, he predicted with the way they made love. There was something there, and what would happen to something? Can something simply be nothing? Itachi couldn't tell if he cared if Kisame was dying or not, he wanted to say he cared but lying was a sin enough. A soft material brushed against his jaw, like the friction of his mother's satin gloves against his rosy cheek. The metaphor didn't even hurt to think now, it was simply a term of speech. The soft texture of his cheek was joined, the feeling travelled down to his lips and slipped in between them. There was a wet texture, both on his cracked lips and a small droplet dripping down his own cheek that couldn't have been the blood. It took several seconds of logical thinking to realize Deidara was kissing him, placing a tongue between his lips and letting his tears fall upon blood stained skin.

"Deidara-"

The named man shushed his brother by law, the rush of air from the sound drying the blood upon Itachi's chin. The blonde kissed his lips so soft it felt ghostly, as if they were scared he would break in their hands. They probed at his gums, but only slightly; almost shyly. Itachi recognized the feeling Deidara felt, of course he did. The feeling of desire, rolled into a body and given a name of love that spreads such snarky lies. He had felt it, tried to take it but ended up empty handed. Kisame had given him the feeling, it had been Utopia for when it lasted. Now, all he felt was the cold he felt like had always been there. Without the sugar coating, everything tasted of ash.

Deidara moaned in a longing fashion, placing a hand on a porcelain cheek to keep himself from falling too deep into his fantasy.

Had Deidara hesitated because of their relation by law? No, the artist was virtually hand in hand with anarchy. It was because of something deeper Itachi thought as the lips returned onto his own.

With one twitch of his bottom lip, the Uchiha responded to the kiss. He didn't know why, it was simply instinct. Only slightly, not even to a full extent; but Deidara felt such a movement. The tears that ran down his face were not of happiness, but of so many fantasies of this moment combining to create this memory. As an artist, he called it a release. The younger of the two crawled into the other's lap, slowly grinding against his appendage and whispering meaningful nothings into Itachi's ear. In the park with no children, two brothers by only law kissed with tongues and didn't know where the path was.

When Deidara pulled away, he wore a deep crimson blush even visible in the dim light. His heart thudded harder than a ritual drum and felt as if the blood soaking through was draining through his chest. He bit his lip, readjusted his fringe, fiddling with both laces before finally looking reality in the face. Reality was beautiful, reality was what Deidara had fallen in love with years ago. Reality was a man with long black hair and big eyes that were unintentionally curious. Reality was Itachi Uchiha, a man who really was quite the opposite of realism. Itachi was a pole in the ground that the artists held onto while the blizzard blew away everything he knew. He was cold hearted and unforgiving, but true and pure. He was on the other side of the wall, and Deidara thought he would be reaching forever, until now.

"Please, leave with me" he pleaded and pecked Itachi on the mouth again, and again, until small butterfly kisses travelled over bloodied skin to his neck.

Itachi stared at the proposition, looking away to see Tokyo peeking out from the treetops along with the rising of the sun; had it been so long since he had been wearing shoes? The birds began to sing and the people began to wake, to live another day, and then another, and another after that. Tokyo was the most beautiful city in the world he had once called it, what a stupid thing to say. He'd been a hotel room, wondering how his client had not been able to see such beauty. Kisame would've laughed if he told him, he was sure. And what if he left? There would be no Mr. Hoshigaki and no grave to visit. His chain would be loosened but not broken. Deidara would walk and he would have to follow, did he really want that? Even looking at that sunrise reminded Itachi of Kisame, with such smooth skin. Could he simply leave? Kisame Hoshigaki was someone he had loved yesterday, and today he felt nothing towards the man. The emotional detachment he felt was worse than anything he could feel, the feeling of nothing. If he stayed with Kisame, he would understand and he would wait. Itachi shut his eyes, and opened them once more and muttered a single "Yes".

Deidara looked to his brother, eyes alight "Really?"

"I'll go with you"

A high pitched squeal escaped his mouth and he kissed Itachi with blossoming confidence. The ecstasy in his heart was almost unbearable, he released it out of his mouth in another scream of happiness.

Itachi knew Kisame would wait, but he knew he wasn't worth the time. He wet his lips and hoped he never got his sensations back, so he wouldn't feel the aftermath of what he just did. Deidara pulled him to his feet, supporting his broken weight as they left the park for the last time with two suitcases.

It had been such a sweet little park, only filled with bad memories now.

Out on the main road, a black and white taxi's engine hummed softly and beeped once when the duo walked out the entrance.

The horn was beeped and a voice called "Lady, I ain't got all day!" and the taxi drivers face twisted when he saw Itachi.

"Lady, is your friend ok?"

"He'll be fine soon!"

There was the feeling of mischief in the air, as if both brothers had gone swimming in their formal clothes in a swamp full of eels. Excitement spun with danger to create a cotton candy with spiced sweetness. Itachi could've had a butterfly net not caught a single strand of the feeling, opposing to Deidara whose whole body glowed radiantly with the sensation. He threw both suitcases in the trunk and slammed the lid down.

"Imagine father's, I mean Madara's face when he notices we're gone, un" Deidara smiled.

The boy that was an artist then held his left hand out and let his right open the door of the taxi. His smile was earnest and gentle, truthful and pure. The door was an invitation to him any lady would've taken. Warm air from the inside of the car flourished in the Midsummer Eve and circled around the Uchiha. He breathed deeply and the air pawed softly down his throat and filled him. He let his knees buckle and he sank onto his stomach upon the street, with the tar that had turned as soft as velvet. Who knew something so skull shattering could caress his body in such ways?

"I'm not waiting here all day and night!" the driver roared.

"I'm paying you, hm!"

The conversation was cut of all corners, softened and sounding tranquil. Itachi pressed closer to the ground, desperate to feel only the warmth. Deidara ignored the driver and got upon his knees, stroking his lovers back.

"Babydoll, what's wrong?"

His call seeded him out like a lighthouse in a storm. Itachi despised the name, but didn't protest. Babydoll was a combination of the innocent, engaged love, stirred with the fire lust from behind closed doors.

"Babydoll, we have to go"

Why so fast, Itachi thought. The speed of the taxi was fast enough, why must they rush? Here and only here was perfectly tranquil, it was unspoiled. Itachi could feel the hot waves from the core to the thinnest strands of his hair, it banished the cold and took him willingly. He stretched, once numb fingertips caressing the black skin that contrasted his own white. Deidara lay against Itachi, rubbing his palms on his arms to try and warm his lover; who had the texture of a glacier ledge. Deidara touch was freezing against is skin, and suddenly the warmth had become cautious and ran into the sunset to join its mother.

Once again, the cold claimed Itachi; and with a simple 'oh', he understood why.

The lips that touched his throat whispered "Itachi, taxi's waiting"

"When people try and leave. They cannot, even when they travel far. Because they are still breathing, and they are a small part of what that was, they are the baggage that we do not desire"

Silence, only the noisy exhaust dared to speak.

The lips found his neck once more "Where we're going, you can stay forever and I'll carry your baggage"

There was a split second when Itachi gazed out of the taxi's window before he escaped the sunset on four wheels. In this second, he saw the golden spears of sun and the dark shades of shadow. The windows were tinted with frost, the trees slowly loosening their arms to sway carelessly. There was not a sound, only the sound of sleep. That was until Kisame Hoshigaki stumbled out from within the shadows of an alley, the clothes upon his back burnt to the flesh. The sound was harsh, a weary body thrown against the floor. The unfortunate looked up, and stared as Itachi was. His light blue eyes widened and his mouth fell open, and began to pull into the shape of a name. Although the split second he had was over before it began. Deidara slammed the door closed and the engine hummed. Kisame's scream was silenced and unacknowledged, only Itachi could feel the presence of said cry of desperation. It should've made him pull open the door, but the Uchiha's hands remained firm in his lap. He tried to spy through the back window, but he was pulled down by tanned hands. When he managed to pull free, they had rounded the corner.

Kisame was dying, and he needed to stop the taxi. Push down upon the brakes with all his morality before flying from the car to cradle his savior once and lover twice. But no matter how much sense he knew he should've felt, Itachi only felt the craving to move ahead of time.

"Itachi, hm!" Deidara explained when he pulled Itachi from the window for the last time "What're you looking at? Did you forget something?"

"It was… never mind"

Deidara hummed, and pulled his brother closer. They were two puzzle pieces that did not fit. Deidara pressed his head closer to the thumping chest and combined with the timed melody of the traffic, he fell into a tainted slumber after muttering "I love you".

Itachi mirrored his words, lying through his teeth.

The chapter is now complete. The next update will take some time, it will be really, really, really, really, really long I am sure because there will be some character introductions –get excited- and a lot of plot now that they are out of Japan. Please read and review, I appreciate each review like how I get overly excited when we have full cream –not long life- milk in the fridge-.

Thank you.

XXX