Hi!

Sorry for having been a bit absent; had three tests last week and a friend over all weekend.

But today I've been all about Trump Card. Really. I worked hard on this. :)

Oh and *pokes the number of reviews* 150. Woah. o.o'' You guys are my reason for everything. Really. I really love you, don't forget that. :'D

This chapter is important. *shrugs*

Words: 3,248 (will let you wonder why :D)
Disclaimer: Don't own. :3
Warnings: Swearing. Cliff-hangering. All-around crucial things for the plot. Be very afraid.

Here goes, chapter 21, with the most meaningful name ever: 'Beginning'

Since it seemed like the dream absolutely wouldn't leave his mind, Sasori headed to ask Deidara about it, first thing in the morning.

"You're up early, un," the blonde sitting on the peg remarked, "Wouldn't have expected you here until a few hours later…"

Sasori grunted in agreement, "I had some strange dreams last night... Had to come clear up my mind."

"Oh." Deidara raised a doubtful eyebrow as he said this, "And you just happened to think I would be the best person to clear it up for you, un? Or was I somehow involved in this dream of yours?"

"...yes," Sasori admitted reluctantly, "You were, actually."

"Do tell," Deidara murmured. On his defense, he did seem honestly curious to hear about it.

An uncertain 'um' escaped Sasori's mouth as he struggled to put into words everything or at least most that had happened in his dream… or dreams.

"Well, it was…" he started, then stopping again. "It's…." He sighed, taking a step towards Deidara. "Do you happen to have something you keep in your… shoe?"

"In my shoe?" Deidara repeated, seeming both curious and amused now. "You're really asking me that, un?"

"Yes," Sasori confirmed gruffly before giving himself the chance to change his mind about this. "It may sound stupid, but I just thought that-"

His sentence and thought were both cut short as the blonde before him jumped down from the peg he had been sitting on, his hand going to his shoe.

"You mean this, un?" Deidara asked, tugging a silver knife from his left shoe and holding it up for the redhead to see.

Suddenly feeling his throat run dry, Sasori nodded numbly.

"It's because..." Deidara trailed off, almost like he didn't know what he was going to say. Had he never explained it to anyone before this? "Because it's not necessarily safe to live on the streets, un. That's why. Self-defense and whatnot, un."

Sasori still found himself rather unable to produce words. "Oh..." he murmured for the sake of saying something. "Have you ever... Killed anyone with it?" He wasn't even sure if he was expecting a no or a yes. And either way, he probably subconsciously expected what he didn't expect, because Deidara usually surprised him.

"No," Deidara responded with unwavering certainty, "I don't kill people. I cause wounds that can end up being fatal... But I don't kill people, un."

Maybe Sasori really knew nothing about life. Maybe he had always lived a fairytale... But he had never met someone whose morals had been that blurry and unclear, whilst still seeming rather sane and almost nice.

"Really...? What's the difference, then?"

"The difference?" Deidara repeated slowly, looking up at Sasori as if to prove that he wasn't doing this because it was fun or because he got some strange kicks from doing it. As if to prove that he was serious and only doing this because he somehow had to. "The difference is that when I don't kill people, I can sleep at night, un."

This time, Sasori knew what he was expecting; laughter. Fond, cheery laughter that he had at some point heard spilling from the blonde's lips, accompanied by a careless grin and a statement of 'I was serious, you know, un.'

He didn't get any of it.

Deidara had probably seen whatever expression had been carved into Sasori's face as he said this, because he continued quietly, "In other words, I do what I have to, un. No more, no less."

"That's just... sick," Sasori commented. That was only one of the adjectives the words brought into his mind. Others included words such as horrific, wrong and insane, but he didn't voice them aloud. He probably didn't need to.

Deidara frowned. "Life is sick like that. Do you think someone cares if I get into a horrible fight in the streets and end up losing an arm or two, un?"

"Well, I thought that..." Sasori started, uncertain of just what he had thought. Deidara had made it more than clear a long while ago that no one cared.

"That world really would be fair?" Deidara supplied, "Well it's not. It never is, un. Not for us... less fortunate... ones..." he kept trailing off for the whole time while saying the last sentence, making Sasori wonder about just what it was that he was thinking about now. He had been wondering about this a while now, ever since the dream last night. Were those really Deidara's thoughts from that day? Could they be his thoughts, anyway?

"No, I didn't think that," the redhead suddenly said, rather certainly, "I thought that you wouldn't hurt anyone. That you couldn't hurt anyone to begin with."

Now Deidara seemed to find it appropriate for him to laugh, letting the sort of mock-happy sounds spill from his lips. "Really? Then how did you think I would still be alive? By running and hiding, un? Been there, done that. And it doesn't work, un."

Something about Deidara's laughter, his mocking smile and harsh word suddenly caused the frail line of Sasori's temper just snap in two parts like a twig when it was being stepped on, and he found himself hissing unhappily.

"I'm tired of this," he said in a low voice, "Can't you just stop fucking piling all your problems on me and fucking throwing trick-questions and mysteries around when you have no intention to give me any answers."

Deidara didn't seem fazed by this, however. Maybe Sasori had wished to make him mad, because the sight of his indifferent stare made him that much angrier.

"Ask me, then. I'll answer, un."

"And you won't lie?" Sasori asked him skeptically.

The question seemed to go unheard, because the look on the clown's face twisted into a frown, his eyes widening and lip quivering as he looked at something behind Sasori. "Fuck," he swore, looking around for a fleeting, hasty second that seemed too short for him to really be thinking clearly before turning around and disappearing behind the corner of a nearby house.

The redhead spun around to stare at him, almost screeching 'What the fuck are you playing at?', but something about Deidara's eyes peeking around the corner stopped him.

Deidara looked so afraid. He looked like he could drop on his knees and scream please please please help me. He even mouthed it before disappearing from sight again.

Sasori turned to look at what it was that was behind him that had got Deidara so scared, and opened his mouth to let out a quiet "Oh." They were the ANBU; hunters under the orders of Hokage, hunting criminals and making them pay for their crimes, most of the time with their life, or worse.

"Mister!" one of them called for Sasori, "Can we have a second of your time?"

No one ever said no to that, because even if you hadn't done anything bad, the ANBU was frightening just because of their presence and the masks they wore to cover their faces from the public. "Why of course. What seems to be the problem?"

The man scrambled something from his pockets. "We are searching for several people, one of them having been spotted around here not too long ago. Do you happen to know about the whereabouts of this-" he handed Sasori a crumbled picture. It was kind of old, clearly having suffered several harsh conditions in the man's pocket, but the person was still recognizable. Blonde, dirty and unkempt hair, worn-out clothes that were too big for him and a sad, scared frown.

Deidara.

It didn't take Sasori even a second to consider his answer as he handed the picture back to the man. There just was no other choice than this.

"I'm afraid I can't recognize this person," Sasori said with a apologetic smile. "Would you mind giving me her name? I could ask around if anyone else knows anything."

"That would be very kind of you... And his name is Deidara," the man responded, "Deidara of Iwagakure. He rarely associates himself with his country, however."

Sasori nodded. "I'll be on the lookout, then."

He waited for a few minutes, pretending to walk away and then coming back when he was certain that the men had left. "Deidara?" he called for the blonde. Since he didn't get a response, he continued afterwards, "They're gone, you can come out now."

A blue eye peeked from the corner, but Deidara quickly drew back to his hiding place.

Sasori sighed, walking to the clown and tugging at his arm. Deidara let out a squeak in response, whimpering like a cornered mouse, almost like he couldn't recognize that it was Sasori, and Sasori would not hurt him.

"They're gone. Calm down," Sasori tried to reassure him, only to have Deidara try to get free from his hold, seeming to be panicking.

Hesitantly, the Ace of Clubs wrapped his arms around the blonde. "Shhh. It's okay. They're gone now. There's nothing to be afraid of..." he murmured, wishing to soothe the blonde enough so that he could at least answer a simple question consisting solely of the word why.

"They... the-they..." Deidara whispered brokenly, fisting Sasori's coat as if he would disappear any moment now. "But you... Why?"

"Did you really think I would give you to the authorities without even asking you what is that you've done?" Sasori asked him. Okay, so he might've got mad at the blonde just a moment before, but that didn't mean that he in any way enjoyed seeing him so afraid or what was worse, dead.

"…I knew you weren't such a bad guy after all, un," Deidara whispered into Sasori's coat, snuggling a little closer to the redhead's body.

"You're clearly better now, so you can let go," Sasori hissed, sort of embarrassed to have even agreed to this in the first place.

"No. I like this…" Deidara said slowly, sighing, "Besides, I might have another breakdown if you let go of me, un."

"Then you'll have to explain what the hell that was about."

"…yeah," the clown agreed reluctantly, "I will… But can we go somewhere that's not out in the open, un? I don't feel too comfortable here anymore…"

"Of course." It had been a taboo to him before, but right now he couldn't really bother to care anymore, as he found himself saying, "We can go to my house."

"Thanks…" Deidara drew away, shaking Sasori's arms from his shoulders, causing the redhead to realize with slight embarrassment that regardless of what he had said before, he had been holding the blonde up until now.

Sasori nodded awkwardly, "Anytime..." and started leading Deidara to his petty excuse for a house. Then again, it was given that it was way better than what Deidara had, so he made no comment on how messy his house might be since he hadn't been expecting visitors (the only person beside himself to have ever been there was Hidan, and after waking up with a big rat crawling under the covers, he had sworn quite colorfully that he would never return) or used any of that usual polite talk.

Deidara looked around the house for a while, then turning to look at Sasori with a smiling face. "This is kind of nice. Goes to show that you're a great puppeteer, un."

The Ace wasn't sure which part about this 'goes to show' what a great puppeteer he was. Was it the fact that he had puppet parts scrambled around or that there were more than a few puppets eerily hanging from the ceiling and staring at them from the corners, but he still nodded. "Thank you. Now will you...?"

"Explain?" At Sasori's confirming nod, Deidara sighed. "I don't really know what to say, un. It's not a pretty story, and I'm not sure if you'll take it all too well..."

"Try me," Sasori muttered with a shrug, "I'll try my best to keep myself from burning you for being a witch."

"...Did you just try to make a joke, un?" the blonde asked him with a dubious look on his face.

"If you're trying to change the subject, then yes. Start from the beginning."

Deidara frowned. "I guess..."

He was a son of a very wealthy man. They lived in a huge house with servants and all that, but his father was away a lot. His mother always said that his work took a lot of his time, even though he would've preferred being home with his family.

His mother was very nice, however. She always managed to get some free time and play with him.

Life was very easy, and Deidara was happy. He didn't even know that life could be harsh. Little kids weren't supposed to know those things.

One night, he heard his mother and father talking. He had finally come back for a while long enough to actually find out that he had a son now.

"Two of Diamonds...Such a low rank?" he asked. He sounded upset, sort of... degrading. That wasn't nice of him.

"I don't care about his rank," she responded defensively, "He's my son no matter what." Son. That meant Deidara. She was talking about him with such a loving tone, and that made him very happy.

Sigh. "You're such a hopeless romantic. I didn't mean that in a bad way, it's just that..."

"I know what you meant."

Quiet moment.

"When are you leaving again?"

"Tomorrow."

"...Oh."

"I'm sorry. You know that if I could help it, I'd rather stay here with you and my son."

Shuffling shuffling shuffling of canvas against canvas. Kind of like the sound of Deidara's puffy pants. He liked those pants.

"No, you should go. It's important, what you do. Don't forget that it doesn't only give us a living, but also helps so many people."

"...thank you. For understanding."

He went to sleep after that, because there was less talking and more shuffling shuffling and weird sounds and stuff. One of the maids, Karin, had advised him that when he heard those sounds, he shouldn't bother people, so he wouldn't. He was a good boy.

The next day, Deidara's father left like he had said. His mother was sad, but tried to comfort Deidara instead of letting it show. She always put others before herself, like that.

"But he's... hulting you," Deidara murmured, staring at his mother. "When he leaves, you'le always so sad. I don't like it... un."

"He's not hurting me, Deidara dear," she responded as if from a habit. Maybe it was one... "It's better that he comes back for a while than doesn't come back at all."

"I guess... But I don't like him. He's a big meanie, un."

She chuckled fondly, raising her son into the air until their eyes met. "Your father is not a meanie, okay?"

Deidara was proud of himself then; he made her happy when his father only made her sad.

"Okay... Hey, can we make food togethel again, un?"

She smiled again. "Of course we can."

A lot of time had passed before his father came back for a longer while. Deidara was still convinced that he was evil, though recently, he had changed the adjective into 'molon', something he had heard a servant say. It sounded like such an adult-like word, and Deidara was a big boy now so he should use it.

Her mother had recently got new clothes for him; a classy-looking outfit that was red-and-black. It even had a cool hat, like the one in the book about the cool court jester who was poor but still always did his best to serve the king. In the end, the court jester got the crown from the evil king and ruled the whole world with all his friends.

It was his favorite book.

"I will be a court jestel someday too!" Deidara proudly announced to her mother one day, "Then I'll banish all morons and my fliends can lule with me, un!" By that time, he could pronounce the 'Deidarrrrrrrrrrra'-sound. Sometimes. He was still learning.

She giggled. "I can imagine. I'm sure you'd make a fine king, darling."

"Yes!"

It was a few weeks after that that his father came back. He raised Deidara into the air, grinning up at the male. "My boy has really grown up, hasn't he?"

Deidara frowned. "Molon."

It had taken a few days of convincing and pleading from his mother (and father, though his pleas did no good) before Deidara had stopped referring to his father as 'molon' or 'bastald' (another word he had learnt from that same servant, actually), and a few more before he started opening up to him and smiling and grinning when he was in the same room.

He was really nice, actually. He got Deidara sweets and played with him and asked him about the things he liked. But still, Deidara never forgot that he had made his mother sad and that he had never really been home up until now. He wasn't completely on the 'good guys'-list, but Deidara didn't tell him that.

One evening, the bandage on his cheek needed to be changed again. Deidara had ran into a knife, one that a clumsy servant had dropped, when he was little (he couldn't remember the incident, of course, but his mother told him that, and unlike his father, she was a good guy), and had had his cheek bandaged since. It was because the scar looked really bad and could even open again if it wasn't bandaged.

Deidara was running around the house, looking for his mommy. She and only she ever changed the bandage, because the scar was that bad. She had said that Karin might faint if she saw it! But she also said that Deidara was a brave boy since he never complained about the painful wound, and Deidara was proud of that. He never even felt the pain, really!

Either way, he was looking for his mother, but instead ran into his father. He said that he could help his little boy.

"But..." Deidara frowned, "Mummy is the only one who can do it. She said it's reaaaaaaaally bad! You'd faint like Karin, un!"

He just laughed. "I won't faint, I promise. Just let your daddy help you out, will you?"

Stepping back, the small boy shook his head slightly. "But mommy said that..."

"And daddy says this. Now let me help my little boy."

Deidara nodded.

How could he have known what he had just done?

"...What happened?" Sasori demanded at Deidara's sudden silence.

The blonde looked at him from his spot on Sasori's bed, shivering. "Do you want to know?"

"Yes."

Shakily, the blonde opened the knot of his shirt, pulling his hair free from it.

In the back of his mind, Sasori had always known. From the first time their eyes locked, Sasori had known that this blonde wasn't normal, that he was dangerous, different and deadly.

Even though he had somehow known all along, it didn't stop his throat from running dry when the blonde hesitantly opened his mouth ever so slightly, all the while moving the fringe on the left side of his face to display the other half of his face.

Even though he had known, it didn't stop him from wishing that he had been wrong all along.

On Deidara's left cheek, with black letters on the otherwise perfect, surprisingly pale skin, was the written the text 'JOKER'.

Even if it doesn't seem like it, I do have an idea of what I'm doing. I do plan ahead and this is what I find best for the sake of the plot.

Also, I hope you weren't expecting this to end just yet because eh... The original plot sort of kind of... beginsfromhereokay? Most of everything I had planned back when I started happens after this.

If you have something to say and even if you don't, do reviewwww. I love them; they keep me alive. :D

See you next Sunday, won't I?