Quicken
By: Junsui Kegasu
A/N: …I'm thinking of changing my penname to 'Procrastinating Fairy.' (For real this time) Does anyone object?
Disclaimer: I own nada…and sadly, my parents refused to buy me Naruto for Christmas…
All right, I now have an opinion on this guy. He's snobby, annoying, and reluctant to tell us anything. That's not fair; we even got Neji to open up…and this guy won't. We told him about ourselves, had our own little circle time, and this guy just…shoved us all off.
"I don't need to share my art with you, yeah."
And what's with the 'yeah'? For someone who ends his sentences in such a positive way, he certainly has a negative attitude… he looked almost disgusted with all of us, especially Gaara and I. Why us? Well, we now have a third roommate. Wonderful, isn't it? Shukaku doesn't like him and neither do I, but I guess we're just going to have to deal. But, damn, I just don't feel safe bunking with this kid without knowing why he's here. We suspect he's the pyro, but he won't say a word.
He just loves breaking all of these trends. Over six months, all of us have introduced ourselves to each other, and now, this kid comes in, and all we know is that his name is Deidara. That's rather unnerving. On top of that, he talked during circle. That's just plain unheard of. None of us said anything, even on our first day. I think that's why this conspiracy works so well.
But this kid, oh, this kid…he just angers me. His attitude just…clashes with mine. I guess I'm not much of a social person, if someone and I clash, hatred blossoms. I don't mind Gaara because we don't contact so much where he could annoy or anger me. This kid, though…I honestly don't know what's wrong with him. I'm almost afraid to be bunking with him. What if he decides to kill me in my sleep?
Ha, ha, that's funny. Being killed in a shrink…impossible, truly impossible. Especially since I'm with Gaara, one of the few victims to be known to attempt and nearly succeed in suicide in this place, our room is especially devoid of sharp objects, and his nails have been buffed from being lethal to not even allowing him to scratch an itch or anything like that. Nails are important, you know… He told me that they would've removed them, but his father wasn't willing to pay the bill.
I'm sure that Naruto, Neji, and Sasuke's room is the same way except I'm pretty sure that all of the furniture is firmly rooted to the floor so that Naruto can't throw anything at anyone. It isn't hard to make the room free of inhalants – there's no vents, windows, or anything that could give off fumes in there. It's a good thing none of them are claustrophobic; that really wouldn't be good.
I'm personally not claustrophobic, but I like looking out the window, even if my vision of the outside world is made intangible, taunting me with bars that obscure my view of freedom. Our room has a good view, too. It's in the back, so when you look out it's just a forest, and a beautiful one at that. Whenever my parents' expectations would really overflow the basin of my self-control, I would always run to the forest that was near our house. I knew that place better than I knew the Christian school I attended since kindergarten.
It's kind of ironic how people who attend places like that end up being the least religious. After a while, the praises of God wore off, and now, I can't say I believe in Him anymore. I used to, I really did, but twelve years of the same prayers don't make it sink into your soul more. Mom and Dad seemed to think so; they were adamant Christians. So were the parents of my best friend, Kisame. He doesn't dread 'bible study' in the sanctuary like I do, though. He's more neutral than Atheist.
My thoughts are snipped like scissors cutting a string when there's a voice ringing out at circle, again. It's him again, too: Deidara. I guess he really doesn't care, or he wants to create the illusion that he's better to get out of here. It doesn't work like that, though, and he'll soon learn. They know. They always know. It's horrible, but I can admit that some of the people have talent here. They've either been working with people like us for a while, or they just have intuition.
I almost want to tell him that, so he can just stop trying. After all, he's going to realize it anyways, there's no danger in telling him early. I guess I'll do that when we go to bed. I have to scowl in remembrance. I originally had the bottom bunk of the bunk bed, because the darkness and similarity to a cave made me feel secure. Gaara doesn't like heights much, so he got the single bed next to it. (It hardly matters as he has insomnia) Thus, Deidara is in the bed above mine. Wonderful.
I guess today just really isn't my day. It's one of those days I wish we had a clock in here, so I knew what time I could fall asleep. Gaara says that sleep scares him, because he can't control himself, but sleep is my escape. Since I weigh so little and refuse to gain energy by eating, I need a lot of sleep to keep me going. They give us a pretty long time, so that's fine with me. One of the few perks of a shrink.
My wandering mind drifts (again) to Deidara: how does he sleep? I want to think that I'm only asking myself because he'll be sleeping above me, but I've always been too serious to live by lies. I'm actually concerned, and that's kind of alarming for me. I don't like getting attached to people who I know are going to leave. I look at Gaara as my little brother, sometimes, but we're never close enough to that I'm going to really miss him when he leaves.
Perhaps I'm just tired. Exhaustion can do things to your brain. Judging by the sliver of sky I can see from the barred, curtained window across the room, circle should end very soon. I'm glad for that. With the tension stew this evening is a strong sense of embarrassment for Deidara. Obviously he doesn't feel the same way. Perhaps he's immune, but I think he's just in denial.
Finally, Iruka tells us we can leave. Thank god, I was almost bored to tears. Ha, ha, that's funny. I haven't cried in over six months. This place saps up your tears like lifeblood and gives you an excuse to stay longer. Neji cried once or twice, but that was withdrawal. Those morons were stupid to not let him slowly get himself off of it. It's only logical. Naruto never cried, it's like his tears come in the form of fists, and Sasuke claims that he cried through his arm. Gaa-chan and Bokaira (sometimes) cry, but not Gaara. I wonder if Deidara cries…
I think I'm just going to blame all of this concern on the fact that he hasn't told us anything. It would make sense, after all. Everyone else was willing (even if they were reluctant at first) to share their tale, so we were comfortable with them immediately. (Well, Neji was somewhat uneasy when he found out Naruto was his room mate, but then he found out that the furniture was immobile, so he gradually relaxed.) It's just my luck to be stuck with the actual nutcase, too, isn't it?
This isn't working out for anyone. Deidara is disgusted with Gaara's actual insanity and my weight, Gaara's intimidated by that look, and I'm pissed off. I wonder if Iruka has some ulterior motive with this. I'd talk to him about it if I ever talked to him. I hardly talk to my actual counselor, either, so I can't tell her. She's a nice lady, really, and since she has medical experience tries to scare me with the possibility of my death in order to get me to gain weight, but I can't tell her.
Sometimes, the weight of this conspiracy consumes me.
Now we're in front of our room. Neji, Naruto, and Sasuke have continued down the hall to theirs. I guess I can call this 'judgment hour.' Gaara has already entered, leaning over the bed to grab his CD player and shove on the earphones. He must've noticed the tension worse than I have; Gaara's really susceptive to things like that, and they unnerve him.
"They said no electronics, yeah."
I can't be mad at him for this question, it's kind of inevitable. However, I'm not going to answer, and Gaara can't hear him. The leakage this time I recognize as Slow Bleed by Thousand Foot Krutch, so it's either Gaara or Bokaira. Their music tastes are very similar. Hoping Deidara will just shrug it off I climb into my sanctuary and start preparing myself for sleep.
"Hey, kid, yeah!"
I frown; this can't be good. He's raising his voice. If Gaara (I think it's him, and not Bokaira) sees his anger, he'll immediately shrivel back and possibly panic. Or at least, that's my assumption. No one has ever raised his or her voice to him like this before. It's not his fault he can't hear Deidara. He doesn't look like he's aware of much, just his music and his serenity. If only I had an escape like that…
SMACK!
Without even realizing they were closed, my eyes shoot open. Did what I think just happened happen? Sure enough, as I look over to the bed next to me, Deidara's closer to Gaara now, and it looks like he hit his shoulder. The noise isn't as loud as how I heard it because my hearing is acute and instinct has me on edge all the time, but still. He hit him. This kid…the anger is bubbling inside me, now.
"You're not supposed to have that, yeah."
"S-sorry…"
Who is he to tell Gaara what he can and can't do? He's gone and scared him! At this point, I have to intervene. I can hear Scared playing from his headphones, now. All he did was take them off to answer Deidara.
"He's allowed to. Remember, he's insane." I put a lot of emphasis on the word he used to describe the boy. I see Gaara flinch at the term, and I feel a little bad, but Deidara is really pissing me off.
"I didn't know they had loopholes in shrinks, yeah," he counters smoothly. "Whatever. Such a device might amuse me, yeah."
"It's not yours! You can't touch it!" I tell him.
"I never said I would, yeah."
I raised my voice to him. I never raise my voice in this place, especially not in Gaara's presence. He's replaced his headphones hesitantly, trying to block out our argument. This is not going to work out.
"Have you ever watched a CD player explode, yeah?"
Well, now the lifelong question has been answered: Deidara is the pyro. And he's planning on blowing up Gaara's CD player. That's so…stupid it's almost amusing. For some reason, a little of the discomfort in my chest has subsided now that I know why he's here. I can imagine it, now: he probably was taken in for arson or something stupid. I choose not to reply to him and instead get back into bed, muttering that he should get some sleep.
It's a while before he moves and turns off the lights. That's the first good thing he's done so far; both Gaara and I like the dark. When he climbs into his bunk, he mutters something almost intelligible. Not for the first time in seventeen years, I curse my hearing, because I hear it.
"No one ever appreciates my art, yeah…"He calls burning things his art. Sasuke calls slicing his arm open in intricate patterns his art. Gaara's music is his art. Neji's designs of puncture wounds and his addiction-induced inspirations are his art. I don't have an art, and I feel (childishly, uncharacteristically, abnormally) left out. Art is escape, they say. My escape was running, but I wasn't good enough at it.
I've had time to think about everyone else's arts, and Deidara's perplexes me. I can see Sasuke's morbid fascination of 'beautifying' his arm, but nothing past that point of destruction. Deidara, though, finds beauty in something burning down, being destroyed. He likes the feeling of things built over years with pure determination, blood, sweat, and tears crashing down at his feet. I don't understand it.
BAM! BOOM! BANG!
explosionscracklethroughspitthesparkair
Feel the h e a t w a v e.
Dance, flames, Dance!
burnittotheground
Quicken the destruction
When I wake up on an average morning, usually Gaara has his music going or he's in the bathroom, showering. Other than the leakage or the spray of water hitting tile, it's dead quiet. This describes an average morning. However, Thanksgiving morning isn't normal in any way shape or form. No, I wake up this morning to (in addition to the normality of Gaara showering) a lovely sight of my nude bunkmate.
He really does have to be different, doesn't he?
Most people would be cursed with a modesty that required them to duck back under the covers, or at least turn away and make an interesting noise. However, I am not most people (by a long, long shot) so I find myself staring. I don't know if it's because I'm half awake or not, but it's clichéd, and I can't find myself doing a damn thing about it.
Of course, to add to the utter irony of it all, he happens to glance behind him, only to see me staring at his ass. I want someone to pinch me and tell me it's a dream, or someone to take a big, pink eraser and efface all of this from history, but this is reality. This is actually happening. The things I pictured in movies and could laugh at years back are now my humiliation. This week is so not my week.
Deidara's not your average person, either. Most people would growl and punch the person staring, or squeak, blush, and cover themselves immediately. He smirks. I have no clue what that means, truth be told. The thought that he could be crushing on me doesn't even cross my mind. I just know that he's stranger than me, and one thought crosses my vacant mind:
'He's hot.'
What on earth is wrong with me?
On all holidays, there's a visiting day. I don't care, since my parents never visit, but Gaa-chan's excited because his brother comes, and Deidara seems happy, too. Sasuke's brother comes, but he doesn't like him, so it makes him moody. Neji's uncle can't spare a day from work to visit his nephew, so he doesn't care. Naruto was living with a foster family, and they pretty much just got rid of him here.
For Gaara's (and Deidara's, I find myself admitting) sake, I try to be somewhat cheerful, but I'm still kind of miffed that my parents aren't coming. It's foolish, as I've been here for a few holidays, but I want them to come. I want them to see that I can make them proud, as babyish as it sounds. I just want their affection; is that really so hard?
Apparently so, and I have no one to vent it to. Well, wait, whom am I kidding? I have a whole nuthouse full of people to vent to. I just don't trust anyone enough. Gaara's really lucky; he doesn't remember what his personalities do, so he can just go on and do whatever. Deidara will probably vent to the counselors, like a good little boy, and try to get out of here ASAP. Which reminds me, I never told him…
I want to tell him, but at the same time, it's almost like that'd be popping his bubble. I'm just not that mean. Plus, judging by his personality, I think he would just shove it aside like I was lying. There's no point in wasting my voice on that, so I suppose he'll have to learn for himself. That's what I did, after all. I've tried every method to get out of here and then some. I somehow doubt he cares about that, though. He's so arrogant, so self-centered, so stuck up, so beautiful.
Whoa, Sasori! What's going on here? We never defied our religion that much! This is beginning to freak me out. Maybe it's because he's so feminine and I saw him naked this morning, I still immediately associate him with a girl. That's it; yeah…I'm not gay. I can't be gay, that's unacceptable to 'them,' and they need not be any more disappointed in me. I really wish they had come.
Stupid. I'm being stupid. They haven't managed to break away from their hectic schedules to see their only child once in six months. I'm not going to count on them coming now. As a matter of fact, I'm going to numb myself to it, like I do from hunger. Still, Deidara is chatting animatedly with a girl (I'm sure this time; her clothing is somewhat clingy.) and looking much happier than I'm sure he'll be here, and Gaara's always ecstatic to see his brother.
I'm going to guess that the girl is Deidara's sister. I've never had an older sibling, or any younger siblings either. I'm glad for that, though, I don't wish the stress of perfection on anyone. Sasuke always whines about his sibling and Neji's cousins can be considered his siblings. He doesn't like them much. Gaara idolizes his older brother, and I think he mentioned that he had a sister once or twice.Naruto is happy to chat with Iruka, and I think he might have found his new foster parent. Well, it's good that at least some of us are happy…most of us, actually.
At least, we act like it.
Because of my hearing, I catch a couple phrases of the conversation with Gaara and his brother. Some of them are kind of sad, others are kind of cute, but most are just normal. They seem to be talking about how things are at home (How's Dad? Is Temari okay?) but there's this mysterious 'he' thrown into a couple spots. Gaara hasn't revealed this side of himself, so I'm curious. I refuse to push him. Bokaira will probably tell me anyways.
Since Deidara is so enigmatic, I'm actually trying to listen in on this conversation. They're being really discreet, but I think I caught something about "Mom," "Dad," "Coming," and "Leaving." What I can piece together using that bit of information and Deidara's facial expressions is that his parents aren't coming and he's not leaving for a while. Well, thank you sister person. Now I don't have to pop the bubble.
This is an interesting perk of a holiday: the visitors get to stay for our Thanksgiving feast. I hate Thanksgiving, possibly even worse than Christmas. At Christmas, Mom and Dad always expected me to be a perfect angel, a good Christian, a perfect son. Thanksgiving calls for possibly something worse: me eating…a lot. It's different on a regular day. On a regular day, I can be defiant all I want. However, even my conscience has a limit to tension.
Sasuke doesn't like the fact that we have visitors. He's glaring at Kankurou (Gaara's brother) and Mieko (Deidara's sister) like they're vermin. Gaara keeps thinking that he's glaring at him and shrinking, causing Kankurou to worry, and Deidara's sister is glaring back at Sasuke, making him sulk. This is our messed up home. I want to leave, very soon.
On the bright side of which I've just discovered, (via Deidara's sister) once I'm eighteen, I'm out of here. It turns out Deidara's seventeen, too. He doesn't look it, but he is. I don't know when his birthday is, but all I know is that if it's November 24th, and my birthday is March 3rd, I'm only here for approximately three months. That's a gleeful thought. Now I have something to look forward to.
The scrape of spoons against plastic plates (We're not trusted with forks, much less knives. Isn't that sad?) mixes with the strong aroma of almost-cold turkey (hot foods are equivalent to weapons) and reminds me of all those Thanksgivings where I was the baby, the little kid, the one to be proud of. Now the holiday makes me sick, and it's not just the strong scent of food in the air.
Mieko keeps randomly looking onto my plate, noting that my turkey (probably stone-cold) has only been nibbled at and my stuffing and potatoes haven't been touched. Iruka was somewhat pleased with that, though he kept trying to get me (all of us, actually) to eat the cranberry sauce. I think it's laced with anti-depressants. They like to do that to us.
Naruto took the cranberry sauce. Neji and I hold our breath, exchanging nervous glances. No one has ever taken anything recommended to him or her by the counselors since we've always been paranoid it's spiked with something. When he takes a bite, we hold our breath. Time goes in slow motion. And then, it's over. He's not dying, he's not painfully happy.
How paranoid have we been this whole time?
Quicken the u n d e r s t a n d i n gAnother chapter done! On the day with a snow delay! Wh00t! (attempts to get her internet to work)
Edit about...eh...five hours later: Internet working again! And dude, I just had the strangest food of my existence. It looks like clam sauce. It smells like clam sauce. But it tastes like very mild chili. wtf?