Alright, I know that I said something along the lines of there being a mass update around this time, and this is the first of those. There are three entire other chapters that need getting done, and I've only started in on one of them. Expect further updates as the week goes on up, with possible delays to the New Year. This chapter stands at about 4300 words, thereabouts. Stats will wait for later-time.
Disclaimer the First: Man, Kishimoto's just killing people left and right these latest couple chapters, isn't he?
Disclaimer the Second: ...yes, this one first. I rather enjoy writing Deidara, and wish he'd gotten to survive past this point. But alas, the plot demands what the plot demands...
Lucidity
Chapter 36
Conflagration
Deidara shivered in anticipation, and began to pat down the pouches at his hips and the pack over his shoulder, taking inventory of the sculptures he had prepared earlier. Again. For the eighth time that hour.
To say he was excited would be a massive understatement. Deidara was elated, experiencing a joyous high that not even Sasori's degrading comments about his art could bring his mood down.
He was to rout the Yonbi and Gobi from Iwa; the intel (as gathered by Tobi, Zetsu's insane contact from back when Deidara was assigned the Rokubi) was that all the Jinchuuriki had appeared in the Land of Iron, and had fought off Leader before returning to their native villages to prepare for war against Akatsuki. He was to bring both of them in (and damn Itachi for dying because Deidara would have loved to rub this order in the bastard's face), with any damage to Iwa or attacks on Iwa-nin to be considered collateral damage – meaning he could do whatever he wanted without Sasori degrading his methods or facing Leader's wrath.
Oh. Hell. Yes.
Which was why he had ensured that both pouches at his hips were full up of clay, and had even gone so far to prepare a few special creations in advance, one of which was sitting in the pack slung over his shoulder.
Deidara was going to slaughter Iwagakure, and screw over the Sandaime Tsuchikage by taking down the man's prize pick for Yondaime. Hell, he might even get the chance to kill old Onoki himself!
The very idea sent shivers of pleasure radiating throughout his body, and made him grin from ear to ear. It was enough that he had started to giggle, and once started, he could not stop, devolving into laughter and then deranged cackles that circled around into giggles once more.
Reaching up to the telescopic aperture affixed over his left eye, Deidara watched with gleeful anticipation as the faint structures of Iwagakure appeared out of the low clouds. It was time. A grinning hand spat out an ivory-colored clay hawk, the tongue almost lovingly caressing the creation as it was laid onto the outstretched fingers, and Deidara took a moment to reflect upon the vessel for his unique art before forming one half of a hand sign with his free hand, gathering chakra enough to animate the creation, enveloping it in chakra-smoke as it expanded to an animate creature large enough to hold his weight. Without a word, he jumped onto the hawk, crouching low as the owl he'd been riding shrank back down and fell into his open hand. The instant his fingers curled around the owl, the hawk's flight began, its' incredible speed turning the world into a blur of blue and brown as Deidara sped towards Iwagakure, towards a confrontation years in the making.
Holding his hand up to his eyes, Roshi watched the cloudless sky like a hawk. Pupils dilated, he tried to see through the cloud cover that hid the stars from view, but to no avail. Beside him stood Kitsuchi, who was staring fixedly at the Yonbi Jinchuuriki while Onoki overlooked the departing platoons some feet away.
"I know what you're thinking," Roshi began. "and I don't have the faintest idea what's going on in that old coot's head."
"Do not insult my father. The Sandaime has his reasons for the decisions he makes." Kitsuchi said, but did not take his eyes off of Roshi.
"Don't I know it." Roshi sighed, taking his gaze down away from the sky. Out of the corner of his eye, lightning flashed and the distant rumble of thunder roiled across the air. "But he is a wily old coot, I'll admit. Usually his plans aren't this confusing, but there are times when he can be a devious genius."
"What I don't get is that he always favored you for Yondaime." Kitsuchi mused, a sly grin marring his face. "It irked me, that favoritism; did you ever know that you're the reason why I'm so skilled with Earth Release Jutsu?"
"...come again?" Roshi blinked, confused at the sudden turn of the conversation.
"It's true. Pa always thought that you were the Iwa's very own diamond mine. Your skill with that Yoken of yours is leagues beyond what your predecessor was able to do."
"Raito Kouga was a hard-headed imbecile." Roshi hotly interrupted. "From the stories I've heard of him, he and Onoki got along pretty darn well."
"Raito Kouga was a hero!" Kitsuchi contested. "He was able to provide the killing blow on the Sandaime Raikage during the war, saving hundreds–"
"Kouga was a drunken menace, and a damn lucky one at that!" Roshi countered, jabbing a finger into Kitsuchi's flack jacket. "The only reason you all look up to him is because he founded the Explosion Corps and created Lava Release; and that was only out of a drunken dare. The idiot was damned lucky not to have died from that attempt."
"And who could possibly exist to tell you those things that you haven't already alienated, huh?" Kitsuchi defended, fists balled up at his side in anger.
"Why, none other than the one who knew him best." Roshi answered. "Son Gokuu."
"And just who is this 'Son Gokuu', if he or she even exists." Kistuchi asked, sure that he'd won the argument.
"You'd know him better by his title: the Yonbi." Roshi replied, oozing confidence.
"What are you talking about, the Yonbi having a name?" Kitsuchi said, disbelief heavy in his voice. "And calling it a 'he'? It is a Biju; a massive construct of heavily condensed malicious energy that barely qualifies as chakra. It has no gender, no independent mind of its own, nor any sort of name outside of the title bestowed upon it."
"That is quite possibly the single most offensive thing I've ever heard anyone say." Roshi shook his head in disbelief.
"Those were your own words to everyone after looking in your mind and meeting it for the first time." Kitsuchi replied. "You were so dead-set on that description of the Biju. What on earth changed you?"
"I–" The rest of Roshi's statement was lost amidst the sudden whistling scream from above, and the resultant explosion carved a crater in the cliff face, sending the duo flying. Roshi skidded along the ground, little clouds of dust flying in the air from the friction that were consumed by the rapidly growing dust cloud. He came to a stop in a crouch several meters away. In the near distance to his right, Kitsuchi was getting to his feet, while further still lay–
Oh, Kami...
A pillar of steam rose into the air, and at the base of the column lay a red pile of metal that was instantly recognized as Han. Close by, far too close to the column of corrosive steam for comfort, lay another, smaller form: Kurotsuchi, his niece. Father and uncle locked eyes, an understanding passing between them as they jolted into action, moving towards the prone forms. Off to the side, an object burst out of the dust-cloud, flying up in the air, higher and higher, until it was joined in flight with a larger blur.
The two objects clashed in flight, small explosions dotting the air in the wake of each clash. They eventually leveled out, dozens of meters above the Yonbi Jinchuuriki, revealing the diminutive figure of the Sandaime Tsuchikage staring down a grinning, giggling Deidara, who was crouching atop a bone-white eagle and gazing at the far-off ground below.
"Well, damn." Deidara's murmur was carried across the moonlit night toward the aged Kage. "I missed. Oh, well. All the more fun, I suppose, hmm." He turned to Onoki. "Still, at least that's one down."
"You never did learn to mind your surroundings." Onoki intoned, clapping his hands together. As they separated, a translucent cylinder formed between his palms. With a flicker of thought, the cylinder was pushed out towards the hovering clay bird, rapidly expanding to several dozen times its size, encasing the head and right wing, along with the majority of the right side of Deidara's body. For a brief second nothing happened, Deidara's visible eye widening in shock, before the sphere in the center of the cylinder imploded, taking its contents with it.
A small whoosh of air was heard as the shape vanished, and the remains of the blond Akatsuki member hovered in the air for the briefest of moments before beginning to fall. Onoki allowed a smirk to grace his features when the red-and-white cloak on Deidara's body faded to the same bone-white color as the bird.
"Neither did you!" The snarl came from behind – and below, as the real Deidara dived out of the low-lying clouds, his hands forming a Seal–
The fake Deidara exploded, a plume of fire that rapidly expanded to include the floating Tsuchikage.
"And now for the denouement!" Deidara cackled, clinging to the small bird as it fell to the ground. "I'm coming for you, Roshi! Now we'll find out who's really worthy of being Tsuchikage!"
Dozens of meters below, Roshi had reached his fallen brother, while several feet away Kitsuchi was slinging his daughter over his shoulder. Breathing heavily, Roshi glanced at the man, then to the warring figures high above in the sky, and back to the slowly deepening crater that held his brother. He took a death breath, holding it in as he became covered in a cloak of fire that quickly condensed into what appeared to be magma, and dived into the column of steam.
It hurt; unbelievably so, but with the magma cloak protecting his body he was safe – for now. Without knowing for certain how long this protection would last, Roshi had to move quickly. Without a second thought he scooped Han into his arms and ran out of the crater. With Han's armor broken, there was a trail of steam emanating from the red-covered man. Once they were far enough away from the crater, Roshi set his brother down and stepped back, exhaling and taking another deep breath. Once that was settled, Roshi moved back towards his brother, moving directly towards the mass of pipes jutting out of the apparatus on Han's back. He moved quickly, but with the utmost care, as pipes were reconnected and holes welded shut from the heat of the magma cloak. Once he was sure that the steam had stopped, Roshi was able to safely breathe out, and felt the magma cloak fade as the tension began to fade, and he turned his attention to the sky just in time to see Onoki get caught up in a massive fireball, and have dozens of small little bone-white spheres rain down, popping out into little spider-like creatures that dug themselves into the ground.
"Shit!" Roshi exclaimed, moving to sling his brother over one shoulder once more, zigzagging across the ground as the bombs exploded in a series of crack-pops and earth-shattering booms. Roshi bounced along the ground, coming to a stop several meters away. Setting Han down, Roshi scanned the sky for the originator of the bombs.
"Why dear Roshi, can it be that you're feeling outmatched already?" Deidara's voice sang from above. "Why, how can it be that the beloved Tsuchikage-elect is pressured by that one simple, little, bombardment?" He tsked in mock-disappointment. "Surely you'll put up a better battle than that."
Roshi glared, clapping his hands together, barely noticing as the earth beside him shifted, creating a bubble in the flat land that covered Han. Once it had finished forming, without missing a beat, Roshi changed hand signs, inhaling through the nose as he shot out several fireballs from between his lips. They met the newest onslaught of bombs midair, superheating them into combustion. The explosions rang through the air like firecrackers, and from the smoke and flames burst a pair of clay birds, long and thin with four wings, that zigged and zagged around one another as they sped towards the Yonbi Jinchuuriki.
Roshi started running, hands flying from seal to seal as the clay birds followed, flying low along the ground towards their target. High above, Deidara was watching with a gleeful expression from atop a clay owl when a fist slammed into him, attached to a severely angry Onoki.
"Your punches just don't have the same oomph they usually have, old man." Deidara commented, before all the color on him faded, revealing another clay clone. The real Deidara burst out of the owl, smirking. "Maybe you should go back to letting others fight your battles, you senile coot. You've lost your touch."
"Lost my touch, have I?" Onoki said, his free hand forming a seal as the clay Deidara started hardening, becoming purely earthen. Below, there was a flash of magma as a wave of lava overtook the clay birds, melting them into goo. The sudden loss of the clay birds drew Deidara's attention, and his eyes flitted from Onoki's dark expression to the ground below, and in that moment he made a decision.
He jumped, one hand forming the requisite seal needed to explode the clay while his other was being stuffed into the pouch of clay at his hip. What was left of the owl that hadn't been turned to stone exploded, while his free hand spat out a clay bird. An explosion of smoke engulfed the Missing-Nin, and he was propelled away on the wings of a clay eagle. An expression of anger was on his face as he reached into his cloak, pulling out the bag of creations.
"Let's see you survive this, Onoki!" He was kept from following through with his attack when a plume of lava exploded up from below, threatening to engulf both Deidara and the eagle. Deidara had less than a second to react, pulling one of the larger sculptures out, another explosion of smoke, far larger than before, which was then engulfed in an explosion of fire. Propelled by the flames was a massive clay dragon, a long, segmented tail trailing after it.
"Why don't you come down here and fight me face-to-face, coward!" Roshi called from the ground below – with a voice that was far too bored and far too relaxed.
"I know how you fight, Roshi." Deidara called back, a frown on his face at how Roshi had sounded. This was a battle – the decisive battle, the one that would declare which was more befitting of the role of Tsuchikage. "I know how you fight." He repeated, muttering to himself.
One of his hands dived into the back, pulling out several more of his little firecracker spiders, along with one of his target birds. Underneath his feet, the clay dragon rumbled as the tail began to consume itself, several segments being absorbed into the body as the mouth bulged. He palmed the handful of sculptures and flung them out, letting them fly over the side of the dragon and down to the ground; the birds he held back to the count of three, letting them fly towards Roshi as he detonated the spiders.
From the dragons mouth came several thin miniature dragons, specially made for speed and precision. They fell from the mouth and split up, some going towards the dispersing smoke Onoki was sure to be hiding in. He gave the smoke a withering glare.
"Let's see you survive that!" He growled, under no illusions about the Sandaime's continued survival. The precision-guided dragons were set to detonate on impact, so that was one problem taken care of.
Deidara turned his attention towards the ground below, where his guided missiles had made contact. He gazed though the telescopic device over his left eye, watching closely for any sign of Roshi's body – alive, of course. Leader needed the Jinchuuriki alive to Seal the Biju, otherwise the tailed beast within would vanish for several years, like with Raito Kouga back during the later days of the Second War. A mutual deathblow traded between the Sandaime Raikage and Kouga had led to the death of both, very similar to the Nidaime Mizu- and Tsuchikage, that resulted in Iwa's temporary loss of the Yonbi for several years.
An explosion rang out off to the side, and the smoke cloud was dispersed by the fire of the explosion, revealing an angry Onoki, a glowing transparent cone alight between his palms.
"I am not amused, brat." Rang through the air as the jutsu was released, sending a beam of pure destructive force in the center of the clay dragon. A hole instantly appeared, one that grew and moved the more power Onoki put into it, until Deidara was forced to leave the dragon behind, falling towards the ground.
"Shit!" Both hands dived into the hip pouches, the mouths consuming as much raw clay as they could hold, before he clapped his hands together. When they were brought apart, a white bubble was spread out between both hands, rapidly expanding until it was larger than its creator. It rippled in the air and warped, becoming more oblong until it hit the ground. The second it made contact, it ballooned out, cushioning the fall for Deidara.
The blond rolled off of the balloon of clay, huffing and gasping. Making such a cushion took more chakra than he wanted to spend, and he would have to rely solely on... solely on...
"Dammit!" He glanced up at the now-destroyed clay dragon, the remnants falling to the ground useless in battle. His bag of pre-made sculptures had been caught up in the blast, reduced to dust in the blast. He exhaled, prepared to use methods and jutsu that he hadn't had to resort to for years. With careful precision, he moved through several hand seals, watching as a clone of himself formed from the earth around him.
Without a word, both he and the clone nodded to one another, moving in different directions. Since Onoki hadn't been incapacitated, he would have to take extra care in escaping with the Jinchuuriki; the old coot was famous for his stubbornness, and would follow anyone to the ends of the earth, so long as there was a clear trail to follow.
"Found you."
The words came from behind, and Deidara had less than a second to react to Roshi's appearance. A torrent of lava rained down on the area he was in, and he was forced on the defensive – again. It was just like all those times in the past – Roshi held the offense, giving no quarter, while Deidara struggled to maintain a stalemate, but inevitably going on the defensive.
Deidara went straight for an Earth Release – Doton – jutsu, erecting a wall that separated himself and Roshi. Once that was done, he used another, far easier Doton jutsu to slip beneath the ground, creating some distance between the Yonbi Jinchuuriki and himself. He needed time, enough to make a plan. He knew where the Gobi Jinchuuriki was, all he needed was a way to take down that thrice-damned Roshi, and he could get away clean on a clay bird. Maybe a pelican, perhaps? He'd always wanted to make a coastal bird...
No. Now was the time for battle, not for artistic musing. That comes later, when he was aiding in getting rid of the bodies, and could turn Roshi's damnable form into beautiful art. It was a waste of good art, to be sure, but sometimes such things were necessary; art without sacrifice was not art to be remembered.
He burst out of the ground, vaguely aware that his earth clone had engaged Roshi in battle, and was losing. This was not good. Tearing the burnt cloak off, Deidara fumed at the absurdity of it all. He was the gifted genius, the one apprenticed beneath Onoki – apprentice to the Tsuchikage was a surefire way to becoming Tsuchikage. He was the smart one, the skilled child prodigy, but it was never going to be him.
It never was going to be him.
It was, and had always been, Roshi. Deidara had never factored into the equation.
He was supposed to be winning this battle, not losing. Already he had been forced to use the C2 Dragon, and had lost his C3 Ohako to Onoki's Dust Release – Jinton – along with the rest of his creations. The majority of the clay in his pouches had been used up in creating that rubber ball that had saved his life, along with his chakra. He was losing, something he hadn't calculated, hadn't anticipated.
It was agonizing, losing against Roshi. Losing Onoki's favor, his standing in the village, the future title of Tsuchikage, and now in battle.
No. Not again. Never again. Deidara would win this battle, sanctions decreed by Leader be damned. He could not perform any sort of jutsu capable of rendering Roshi immobile, but alive; almost anything he did at this point would end in his capture, interrogation, and death. He accepted the death, it was an absolute in the world of Shinobi, but he would not suffer the indignity of being captured by his former village, let alone have the captor be the one person he hated most in the world (now that Itachi was dead, of course). He would not allow it.
There was one course of action, at this point. One that went against every sanction Leader had set into place regarding the Jinchuuriki.
The Suicide Art, C0.
It was insanity to even consider it, but at this point, with his loss imminent, insanity was the only way to win. Desperate times, desperate measures.
One hand absentmindedly slipped into the pouch at his hip, the mouth in his palm opening to chew on some of the remaining clay. If he was truly going to go through with this, then he would have to be absolutely sure. He tried not to wince too badly as his palm spat out a mangled attempt at an eagle.
That settled it, then. His skill with Doton was good, but against the likes of Roshi's Lava Release – Yoton – it was almost useless. Without his clay creations, a battle of attrition could never be won.
"Found you." Roshi spoke up from the left, and Deidara brought one hand up to his chest, his shirt balled up in his fist while his other hand fell limp at his side.
"So you did." Deidara's haggard snarl and glare from under his disheveled hair hid the movement of his limp hand into the pouch at his hip, and the shifting of his fingers so the thread Sealing the mouth over his heart closed was included in the fist. "Do you expect Onoki to give you some kind of special promotion? Any Chunin worth their salt could have found me, hmm."
"But not any Chunin, or Jonin for that matter, could capture you alive." Roshi was moving through several hand seals. Deidara's fist clenched tight, and he felt the pull of the thread against his skin, and the rough texture of the clay in his hand. It had to be done in a single, swift movement; it would hurt, by the gods would it hurt, but at least it gave Deidara the satisfaction of knowing that he'd won.
"So you think you're the one who's gonna bring me in, hmm?" Deidara steeled himself. Now was not the time for hesitation, nor could he be afforded the ability to gloat or revel in his transformation into art. "You're gonna enjoy watching while I get interrogated for every piece of information I have on Akatsuki, aren't you." This detonation needed to be quick. He couldn't resist it just to watch Roshi's expression as he realized the futility of running. "Well, think again."
In one move, his tore his shirt off, the thread pulling taut as it was yanked as well, pulling the skin along until it snapped, falling to pieces and letting the mouth burst open. Without waiting a second, Deidara jammed the handful of raw clay up against the mouth, not caring as his fingers were bit into by the sharpened teeth as it hungrily consumed the offering. He could feel it flowing into him, activating every cell in his body and drawing them in, consuming himself and turning every part of himself into pure explosive energy.
"Die!" Deidara's scream was cut short as Roshi slammed two fists into his chest, and he lost all feeling in everything from the neck down. There was no more beating heart, nor any lungs to draw air from. He could not speak, his mouth only moving silently in a mockery of words as his body collapsed in on itself. Deidara could only watch as his plan failed, the detonation process halted by some trick of Roshi's that turned his entire body, barring head, legs, and arms, into lava. He tried to move his arms, tried to stand up, but neither of his appendages made so much as a twitch. He felt a fire-y numbness at the bast of his neck, and the rough feel of the ground against his cheek, but nothing else. There was movement in the corner of his eye, his vision moved to see the silhouette of Roshi standing above him.
That was good practice, Deidara wanted to say, but the words wouldn't come. And for that matter, why couldn't he stand up?
Was this another one of the Yonbi Jinchuuriki's skills that he loved to show off against the Tsuchikage's apprentice?
There was a shadow of a fist raised above him, and Deidara didn't understand. This was just a practice battle, right? They had them all the time, didn't they?
Why did his neck hurt and his body feel numb?
Then, black nothingness overtook everything.