~~||~~||~~ Third Person ~~||~~||~~

Three weeks. For three more weeks it went on the same way. The same frustration felt by every single person in the Akatsuki base, the relief Deidara felt after every failed attempt. There is only so much a person can take, and everything was coming to one blazing point.

And then, one rainy, dreary day, Sasori looked up from a loose joint on Hiruko, and snapped.

He was, after all, an impatient person.

But was it just coincidence that on that very same rainy, dreary day Kuni quietly set her writing board down, pushed herself into a corner of her room with her favourite green-and-yellow striped blanket, and started thinking?

There was a plan forming in both minds.

~~||~~||~~ Kuni's PoV ~~||~~||~~

What is the point of this? It hit me out of nowhere.

I stopped writing, midway through the word 'snowing', staring down at the letters in faint disgust. What was the point of all this constant practicing and learning? It seemed like such a very long time ago, that this had begun. It felt like the first eighteen years of my life had suddenly vanished from my memory.

Oh, no. That wasn't the only thing that had disappeared from my head. I realised with a sudden jolt I had almost forgotten what had pushed me to learn at all – and that, oh that was what scared me. I pushed the board away, skittering back from those chalk-white words, pressing my forehead to my knees, eyes wide. Oh please no.

And for the first time in a very long time… I thought. I thought a lot harder about this current predicament – I stopped kidding myself into believing I couldn't think straight, or I had… bigger problems on my mind. I didn't have bigger problems. There was something so very, very wrong about this place, and yet here I was, whiling away my time as the fear just grew stronger.

Why am I learning how to do this in the first place?

Sasori. Sasori was the reason – him and the folder with my name on it. And I had dared to forget that for the slightest moment, dared to underestimate the chills running up my spine every time he spoke to me.

And with that simple fact, another one – another obvious, bloody obvious fact flashed in my mind, and I stopped breathing.

Itachi knew about my colours.

Hidan knew.

Sasori knew.

They all knew.

And then I realised I had had enough. More than enough, and everything was building in one tumultuous wave, higher and higher until I couldn't take it any more—

I had to get out of here. I was going to find that file, and… and then? And then I was going to make Deidara-sama read it for me. I needed to find out what was going on. And then I needed to find out a way to get far away from here.

The quiet murmur of voices buzzed against my skin as I tip-toed to Sasori's room. He was in there, I realised with a sinking feeling in my chest – and he was with… with Deidara-sama.

No. I couldn't think about that right now. Oh god, could I even go through with my plan? What kind of plan was it anyway? And how would I be able to talk to Deidara-sama, to ask him for help, if the very thought of him sent a sharp stabbing pain through my stomach?

Or was it that I didn't trust him either?

No. It was almost sick how much I trusted him. Even with everything going on.

But I still pressed myself ever so lightly against the door, my ears straining. There was a pause in the conversation, and then Sasori spoke, almost hesitant.

"Deidara…"

"Yeah, un?" I bit my lip at his smooth, deep voice. How I wanted to hear it again, properly, in that tone he reserved for our teasing conversations.

"About Test Number 37—" Sasori said

"—Her name's Kuni, un." He replied flatly, and I curled my toes. Get on with it, my brain said. He still cares, my heart hoped.

"How far have you gotten with your mission?" Mission? What mission? I pressed even harder against the door, my muscles taut in anticipation.

"I… I'm still on it."

"Have you managed to gain her trust yet? Is she teaching you?" My eyes snapped open at that. Gain her trust… her trust. My trust.

My trust was the mission?

I swallowed down a whimper, my hands balled into hard, hard fists – but my eyes still stayed wide open, burning with the start of the tears, even though I could barely comprehend the enormity of the truth.

"Yeah." His voice was still flat and small. I wanted to hit him, hard.

"But… have you learnt anything?" So that's what those lessons were for.

"…No." So that's why I was brought here.

"Do you know why?" So that's where I stood with these people.

"No…" Deidara said slowly.

"Because, Deidara… it can't be learnt."

What?

"WHAT?!" His voice vibrated against my skin. "So, so all this time, all this trust and kindness and friendship – it was

for nothing?!"

It wasn't 'nothing', Deidara. It was everything for me.

The realisation was slowly dawning on me, and I pressed my fingers into my eyes to force back the tears.

There was a thick silence as I clutched the wall for support, my legs trembling, his words ringing in my ears again and again and again. Then he spoke, once more calm and composed. "Why not?"

"Because," Sasori replied quietly. "Test Number 37… doesn't have any talent. Nor does she know any jutsu, or carry any Kekkei Genkai. She cannot control herself in the least." I didn't know what half the words meant, but Deidara did. As he replied, I could tell his voice was choked, constrained. I wanted to peel myself away from the wall, run to my room screaming, but something kept me there, frozen and terrified.

"Then what, Danna? What the hell is going on?" He was almost growling, but I was too scared and sickeningly fascinated and confused to make sense of anything.

"I'll explain it in a way that even your simple-mindedness can comprehend. When one of Test Number 37's senses are stimulated – smell, for example – another sensory or cognitive pathway is automatically triggered – she sees colour. It's entirely plausible that this has somehow overlapped with her being able to sense chakra."

"Stop speaking in circles."

Sasori exhaled heavily. "Brat. I don't know how to put it any clearer. It's a neurological disorder – called Synaesthesia – that Test Number 37 has, not some amazing talent we can copy. It's not a skill, it's her brain. She's useless."

I sucked in a breath, still not daring to think, trying to subdue the whirlwind of emotions. So they wanted me for a skill; instead I presented before them some disorder. So the pretence of friendship was a sham. Every single thing they had told me was a lie.

However loud and clamouring these revelations were – these truths were – they couldn't subdue the hurt. It was him… my only friend, my first kiss, who thought I was nothing. No wonder he didn't care, no wonder he always stayed a little away. That hard dark glint I had seen in his eyes so long ago told me more about him than his false grins ever did.

The man that I had fallen for considered me nothing more than a mission.

But even though I wanted to throw up, I couldn't block out the words that floated out from under the door.

"You know what to do, Deidara."

There was a long, long, cold silence.

"Kill her." Sasori said, and I could hear his smile.