The light burned his eyes; it hurt to even glance its way.

It would remind him of all that he handed over, tied up in a neat little bow.

"Was this worth it to you, you filthy beast?"

Deidara, for once, found himself at a loss for words. He did not know the answer.

Though he had a smile that could light a room, he could not have been grinning for a darker reason. Deidara stood several feet away from the door that led to the outside; that led to the object of his intense rage. It was time to genuinely test this ability he had acquired through unconventional means, and a wooden door would do just fine for now; there was always a chance his little invention wasn't enough to kill a human target. No, he couldn't have that; he couldn't be responsible for making something as ugly as a disfigured face due to a failing on his part.

With his body tensed, and an apprehensive, shaken hand sign delivered, a little bird emerged from the orifice in Deidara's palm. He winced at the foreign feeling, though it did not cause him to err from his goal. It was only a door that stood in his way; nothing but a board of flimsy wood that awaited his kindling. It was the inevitable guards that charged in afterward which worried Deidara the most, as he hadn't truly murdered someone before.

As he fumbled his hand signs around for a brief moment, Deidara heard the loud clunking of soldier's boots ascending the staircase. He knew it was time, but his hands could not come to an agreement with his mind; his worthless teachings hadn't proven helpful in the least.

His heart began to race, and his stomach fluttered as he frantically tried to make the hand sign work. Deidara's breathing grew erratic, while the little bird patiently waited by the door for its creator's command. Come on now, he thought, you have practiced this all night! Surely he could perform this once, but the pressure of the few seconds he had to begin his long, tantalizing march to the object of his anger was too much for him to bear. What a failure he must have been to all those who watched him from the afterlife, and it seemed that even the sun in the morning sky shone a little less brightly from the pity it felt for him.

The little white bird flew back to its creator, and perched upon his shoulder. Funny, Deidara thought, he had just pictured it doing just that. He looked to the bird, then to the open window, and quietly mulled over the thought of the bird flying out the window. As if the little one could read his mind, it flew straight out of the exact window he had in mind. Deidara trembled, for he was never told of just how powerful chakra was. He was told it was originally meant to be a network, but he never pictured being able to control the creatures he had fused his own chakra into.

"Please," Deidara muttered, and bent down so that he was on eye level with the bird. It cocked its head, as if it were listening to him. Deidara looked out the window, to the vast blue sky that was just out of his reach.

When he raised his two fingers once more, it felt almost like a natural reaction. This was what might have been the next step that had always eluded him; this was the true way to destroy all the art he created. Even with wings that laid their birth in blood, filth, and death, Deidara knew it was the time to fly away into the horizon with a sea of red in his wake.

"Help me."

Deidara felt himself be blown back a couple of feet by the force that exuded from the bird in the next moment. Before him was no longer a small white clay dove, but something more akin to a proud eagle, or a beast from a story book. It perched proudly, and patiently waited just outside the arched window. It seemed that it was not going to leave without Deidara, so with little hesitation, the young widow climbed onto the bird's back.

The wings flapped with great force, as though it wasn't quite sure how to take off properly. With a good amount of effort however, and a chunk of the building being taken with it, the bird managed to gain a bit of altitude and fly just above the tower it had come out of. Perfect, he thought. All he needed to do now was get himself to the Tsuchikage's homestead to carry out his revenge, then he could fly off to the south - never to be seen again.

Deidara looked down to the city below him, where a small crowd of people had gathered once they took notice of the large white bird that flew about above them. Deidara looked down to the large chunk of clay he had clumsily carried with him in his other arm, and got an idea as he saw the people below him "ooh" and "ahh" at what must have been such a lovely sight for the townsfolk to behold. A blond beauty in a silken blue gown, atop a white bird in the morning sky? It was a quaint picture, but it was something that could surely stand to be improved. His chest was the only thing covered in red right now, as well.

He used the hand he held the clay in to tear a piece of it off with the atrocity that had become part of it, and in a painful few seconds a couple of tiny clay owls were spat back out at him. He wanted to retch, but kept his focus on the flight to the manor. He tossed the little sculptures into the air, and performed the hand sign once more to turn them into normal-sized owls. They flew down to the crowd of civilians, and the people cheered with shock and delight to this foreign entity above them. The dim and ignorant masses of this village who proudly obeyed a man who couldn't rise above killing children deserved to die, and as Deidara was about to give his creations their final command he saw something that stood out to him.

It was a little girl - not too much older than him - with dirt smudges that covered her face and arms, and her hair wrapped back to keep it out of her eyes. Her face looked downtrodden and weary despite her youth, but the one thing that Deidara could not look away from was her swollen belly that she occasionally put a hand on.

As one of the owls flew above this girl, Deidara felt a weird sense of guilt. He would have never been able to bear Han a son, and he may very well have been the luckiest young bride in history, but that didn't invalidate this girl's - and the countless others he won't ever meet - experiences. She didn't choose this life for herself; it was this village that created such a system. It was never going to be different for her, and she couldn't do anything to stop it.

So the two little owls kept on flying, straight through the crowd of people and onto a nearby building to meet their final purpose as Deidara raised his two fingers to command them and the wretched structure to burn.

The loud noise that echoed through the sleepy district synched perfectly with the chorus of screams and cries that shortly followed. Since they now knew he was hostile, Deidara figured it was time to quit showboating and get on with his actual plan - the guards and many other Shinobi would be here shortly to defend their "great" Village anyway.

Deidara flew his prized bird at a far greater velocity than before towards the Kage's manor, ignoring all of the Shinobi below him that prepared their attacks. He could die later; what mattered above all else to him right now was that the family that lived in the home he quickly approached was burned to the ground as they slept.

Many shuriken, ballistae, and arrows were flung at him and his mount, which Deidara clumsily dodged as he tried to keep up his speed. A single arrow was suddenly caught in his bird's tail, then it's underbelly, and then the neck - dangerously close to Deidara. Panicked, he retreated even higher up into the air; it did very little to stop the onslaught of projectiles that followed him with relentless fire.

He looked below him briefly; it was just below him, and he couldn't even get a good shot in with all of the distractions. He had to keep dodging just to stay alive, and it wouldn't be long before something actually struck him rather than the mount. It all seemed hopeless, and far too unlikely that he would successfully kill anything if this kept up, and there was no end in sight from the rapid-fire around him.

Deidara angrily cursed his weakness under his breath, but forgave himself for not being taught well enough to properly prepare an attack. Amidst the arrows and shuriken he flew even higher into the sky, and with the greatest force he could muster he willed his battered dove to carry its creator as far as it's dying body could take him. With gritted teeth and a gaze of fire, Deidara looked back to the manor one last time as he quickly made his escape. The next time would be the last time he ever saw this Village of Stone, for it would be a field of ashes when he returned.

-and-and-and-and-and-

He was so very tired, and the clear brook and gentle breeze almost lulled him into a deep slumber. Yet he knew he could not rest; not until he knew he was safe.

Deidara had flown for about twenty minutes before he realized he might have made it obvious where he was headed, but even he did not truly know where he could go. In hindsight, it would have probably been wiser to land much earlier in his departure. That didn't stop him from leaning against a tree to rest for a little break. His bird was destroyed, and his clothes were bloodied to the point of ruin, so he needed to shed a few layers of clothes and create a new mount for the rest of his trek through oblivion.

He ripped apart the sash and skirt of the gown, which left him in a petticoat for bottoms. He tore his sleeves up, and tied the fur around his shoulders to his waist. He probably looked like a savage this way, but he didn't mind; what was important was that he could get away quickly if the need arose.

Deidara ripped off another piece of clay for the new addition to his hand to mould into another bird; this time he had an eagle made, since he felt a bit sentimental this morning. He immediately used his left hand to will the living work to be full sized in the event that he would need to leave before he was done defacing his old robes.

Deidara ripped the ribbons out from his hair, and shook his head to get the braids to fall out. He was never one for such formal styles; he was a Mountain Sprite at his core. He was most comfortable when everything he wore was loose and comfortable, which was something the Stone Village had never agreed with. To that Deidara silently bid a farewell, and good riddance to such a rigid way of life.

His gloves also required his action, but they, as well as the buttoned part of the dress that housed his torso, needed medical attention eventually. Even though Deidara didn't want to admit it, he wasn't ready to see what had become of his hands and chest quite yet. That aside, his chest was rather sore. He needed to find someone who would be willing to help him soon; he couldn't let his journey end in infection.

He climbed upon his bird, then without a word it began to gain altitude at a slow, but sure pace. It seemed that he needed to work on taking off when he flew, as well as time management when he razed a city. Eventually the eagle was able to fly well above the ground, though Deidara noticed that his clothing he shredded off was left on the ground. He figured it couldn't hurt to quickly gather them, as nobody was nearby from what he saw.

He landed once more and picked up his clothes, but before he climbed back on the mount again a shuriken swiftly dug into the back of his shoulder. Deidara let out a yell of agony, and in a rage, he scrambled to bite off another bit of clay into his hand. This time he hurled the small figures several feet before him, then used his hand sign to enlarge them as minimally as possible. He created little clay bugs, or crickets to be exact. It would be worth it to see them hop onto his pursuer's faces and paint their bodies red with a gradient of blood and fire.

One man stepped out from behind a tree, and Deidara was grabbed from behind by another. A third man joined them, and finally a fourth. The one that held him in place forced Deidara to move with him, towards the man from the tree who had restraints in his hands. Deidara did not speak, but growled in a mix of anger and pain.

The man who came third grabbed Deidara's left hand, and examined it. He signaled for the fourth man to come take a look, and he looked amused by what he saw in the bloodied, torn glove as well. The third man laughed, and looked right into Deidara's face with a smirk of sadistic glee.

"That's a stolen Kinjutsu you've got there, you little rat. It's forbidden. No one's allowed to take that, at least if they want to live," the man said with a hissing tone. From the grins that all four men had, it seemed that they all took great pleasure in "serving" their Kage.

"What's a few more cuts then? He's already mutilated himself pretty good," the fourth man said as he stepped closer to Deidara, looking his face over.

"I'm guessin' it'll be death by public flogging for this one, so we'll wanna keep the face intact for the public," the first man said.

Deidara remained silent this entire time; he had kept a close eye on his bugs. Three were busy crawling up the legs of the men who stood before him, and one looked over the shoulder of the man who restrained him from out of the corner of his eye. He looked to the three men who once again walked away with their assumed "captured" target, and none of them seemed to notice quite yet. He was right to keep them small.

His creations weren't quite past their legs yet, but Deidara couldn't wait any longer. He performed the sign quickly, and was immediately blasted in the back of his head with a rush of heat. He was released from his restraints, and turned around to find that the man's head had been blown off. His first. Deidara looked back to the three men before him, all now crying, whimpering messes that helplessly tried to find their missing legs. One even called for his mother, Deidara didn't quite know which. He pulled the shuriken out of his shoulder, and sauntered over to the man who had grabbed him in such a crude manner.

Deidara stared at the destroyed man with a blank expression, for he did not trouble himself with their pathetic cries. They deserved to die. He was gracious, however, and felt it would be kind of him to end their suffering quickly.

With a few clumsy gashes, Deidara managed to slit the first man's throat properly. Now all that came from him was a stream of blood, and a few gurgles with his dying breath. He looked to the man that suggested to cut his face, and moved onto him next. Deidara pushed one of the sharp edges of the shuriken into one of his eyes, then the other. His cries grew louder, so Deidara quickly cut at his throat until he stopped. It worked rather well.

Finally came the man who had suggested a public flogging. He had been gracious enough to save Deidara from any more of the other two's repulsive chatter, so he deemed him worthy of a death similar to the beheaded man behind them. He ripped another piece of clay off with his hand, and kneaded it full of his chakra, then spat a small clay dove onto the man's face. He performed his hand sign for the first time with an audience, and looked into the man's eyes. They gazed up at him in terror.

"Thank you," Deidara said softly as the man's face erupted into a bouquet of gore and flames. The four corpses around him were no longer an issue, so Deidara deemed it best to leave quickly before anyone else came for him.

Deidara walked back to where his clay eagle waited for him, and gathered back his clothing before he turned back to the men he had murdered. There was no sense in letting their tools go to waste, and it wasn't unheard of for his brother to come home with new loot from an unfortunate soul he had found in the woods. He was very familiar with this practice, and he needed all he could to survive.

After a bit of examination of the corpses, Deidara had gathered ten kunai knives, fifteen shuriken, a rope, some water that he did not know how clean it was, and most importantly a pack that wrapped around the waist. One pouch on each side, and one of those was definitely reserved for his clay. He placed his precious clay and the water into their own side, and the rope, shuriken, and kunai into the other. He swiped a Stone Village crest headband off of one of the men while he was at it, as he needed a replacement for his travels, and placed it in the bag along with the weapons. He wrapped the fur shawl back around his shoulders to make room for his new pack, and then proceeded back to his mount to make his way far away from here.

As he forcefully took off from the ground once more, he figured it was a good idea to decide where he wanted to hide out. The tricky part was getting there; seeing as he was a Stone Village Shinobi he would have to travel through a hostile nation no matter which route he took. Realistically he could fly the entire way there, but he wanted to conserve this phenomenal ability for the times when this was absolutely necessary. People might catch on otherwise.

It was almost midday, and Deidara was exhausted from the sleepless night and brutal morning he had endured so far. He needed to find somewhere to rest, and someone that might take pity on a poor, helpless young man who was so brutally attacked by others. Yes, that was a good enough alibi for now. What was worse, he would tell the unsuspecting target, was that he could barely defend himself from that group of utter monsters.

-and-and-and-and-and-

From up so high, Deidara could see the stars among the orange and lavender sunset in the sky. He wondered to himself if this was what the Gods felt like.

It had been about an hour since Deidara had spotted a building that looked safe to land near. He needed to play it in a precise way; he couldn't just land at the gates and demand entry. He had to land a little ways away from the site, and fabricate a name and story while he was at it. He was still in Earth Country as far as he could tell, and truthfully he didn't know quite where it ended. So thus he had to keep pushing forward; there were no breaks to be had until he felt that he was safe enough to rest for what could potentially be a whole day.

There was a small home off in the distance, and it looked uninhabited from what Deidara could tell. He flew a little bit lower to get a better look, but much to his dismay there was an old woman not too far in what appeared to be a herb garden. Herbs might have meant medical help - which was important - but Deidara was still wary of anyone loyal to Onoki. He didn't know how far out in the country his followers resided.

At the very least, an old woman could be killed if she were hostile. Deidara was growing too tired to continue for much longer, so he made the decision to land in a forest clearing a couple of hundred feet away from the home he had set his sights on. With a soft thud, his mount crumbled away as it hit the ground, leaving a pile of unusable clay in its stead. Deidara sighed; he needed to be more careful with how much clay he used, as he couldn't afford to constantly buy more.

He slowly walked out of the clearing towards the home, and soon enough the old woman caught notice of him. She looked somewhat distressed; probably due to the fact that Deidara was covered in blood and filth from head to toe. He tried to put on his best front as to not completely scare the woman off. When Deidara was only a few yards away from the elderly woman, who had fled to the front deck of her home in fear, he looked to her with pleading eyes.

Deidara's lips trembled, but then he gathered his strength and said, "Please, help me..."

The old woman gasped as she got a full look at the bloodied and battered boy before her, begging for her help. She held up a single finger then hurried inside, leaving Deidara out there alone. He looked around, a little confused. What was she going to get in her house for him? Deidara was so tired that if she were to emerge with a weapon to defend herself he would likely die right there.

The old woman came back out of her home with a young man. He was a fair bit older than Deidara, but he still had a boyish look about him. He even had the same gray-colored hair as this woman to boot. The young man smiled, then gestured for Deidara to come inside with them. Deidara hastily bowed to thank them, and followed the old woman and who he assumed was her grandson inside.

The grandson forced Deidara to sit down on a couch and immediately began to rip open his dress top to see what was the source of the blood stains on his clothes. He retched, then immediately toppled backward as he caught the sight of whatever was now a part of Deidara. Deidara didn't want to look; he kept his eyes squeezed shut to spare himself the horror of his mutilated body.

"Fix it," Deidara said with a moan of agony and exhaustion.

"I... I don't know if I can fix this, young man," he said.

Deidara finally felt whatever was now in his chest move around inside of him. It was slimy, thick, and cold. Deidara felt nauseous, but was too tired to do much of anything anymore. He was too terrified of this thing killing him to move much, either.

"Don't be so quick to give up, my boy. We can restrain that thing with a basic seal," the old woman said as she came back into Deidara's sight.

The young man restrained Deidara by his shoulders, looked down at the bloody mess just a foot below him, and said, "I don't know how you're still alive, honestly. Let me give you a little something for sleep."

Deidara almost shouted "No", but it was too late. His vision faded to black, and his body went limp in the man's arms. At the very least, Deidara couldn't feel pain anymore.

Deidara heard the crackling fire as he stirred, and the loud rainfall that hit the windowpane behind him. It was such a calm place now, and so quiet too; it made Deidara wonder if he had died last night. He turned to see the old woman asleep in a chair by the fire, and the young man was in the kitchen cutting up vegetables and a bit of beef. The home was far smaller than Deidara had realized, as he could see the entirety of the downstairs from where he lay.

He felt no pain any longer; as he gently prodded around his chest, whatever sickening alien that had moved about inside him last night was replaced with thick stitches that bound his chest back together. It wasn't moving anymore, whatever was inside him. It was as if it was never even there at all, though he knew that was a lie when he looked down to see the large wound that had been sewn shut just above his heart. It looked like Kurotsuchi missed it altogether.

His hands - while the smaller orifices on them were still free - were also cleaned up. It looked as if he was also relieved of his tattered garment; he hoped it was the old hag who changed him into the white robe he had slept in, for the idea of a man close to him in age seeing him naked filled him with a sense of humiliation he didn't care to experience.

The young man took notice of Deidara as he moved around on the couch, and rushed over to him to check on his patient. He smiled, and adjusted his robe for him so it didn't expose his chest. Deidara's face grew hot; he hadn't been around such a young man before who had helped him so intimately. He got up from his makeshift bed, but stumbled as he tried to stand before the young man caught him.

"Thank you," Deidara said softly with his head lowered.

"Don't worry about it. It's not like us to let someone die like that," he said, easing Deidara into a sitting position on the couch.

"May I have your names, hm?" Deidara asked as he stretched his body.

The young man smiled, and said, "My name is Kabuto Yakushi. I'm not related to her, but the old woman asleep over there is called Erina."

Deidara smiled weakly, and said, "Those are nice names. I hate to be such a bother, so I'll probably be heading off soon."

"Why? There's gonna be a storm all night, why not stay here and wait it out in shelter?" Kabuto asked.

"I'm sorry, it's probably best that I don't tell you what I'm going through," Deidara said.

Kabuto scoffed, and said, "You sound like my father."

Deidara chuckled a little after Kabuto broke out into a small bout of laughter himself; he must have meant it as a joke. Deidara tried to get up once more, his legs a bit less shaken than earlier. He looked down at what he was wearing; he couldn't travel very well like this, especially in the rain where his clay birds would not be able to fly. He needed to find a way to make it out of Earth Country on foot for now, and that would require better travel attire.

"Listen Kabuto, I need a little help getting on my feet. I've got a long journey ahead of me, and I'm not exactly well-prepared. Do you think you can help me, hm?" Deidara asked.

"Where are you headed?" Kabuto asked with a finger on his chin.

"I don't know. Anywhere that's safe from Earth Country will do," Deidara said.

"Have you considered River Country? It's a bit of a hike, but if you can make it there alive you'll probably be able to live pretty peacefully," Kabuto said.

"How do I get there, hm?" Deidara asked.

"Well, no matter what way you go, you're going to be crossing enemy territory. I'd suggest going through the outskirts of Wind Country myself, since the Sand Village isn't anywhere close to where you'd be traveling and it keeps you far out of the way of the Leaf Village and the Rain Village," Kabuto said.

"Um, may I ask for a map... and some better clothes, hm?" Deidara asked, not able to look Kabuto in the eye when doing so.

"Oh yeah, sure, no problem. Here's your bag, by the way. Just wait right here, I've got something that will fit you just fine," Kabuto said as he dug through a dresser full of clothes not too far from where Deidara sat.

Kabuto pulled out a green jacket and a chainmail shirt, as well a pair of black pants, and handed them to Deidara. As Deidara examined the apparel, Kabuto went into the kitchen and poured some of the food he was cooking into a thermos, then shoved that along with some bread and an apple into the tool side of Deidara's bag. He then pulled out a cloak that was worn-out and dingy, then placed it in Deidara's lap.

"I'm going to go upstairs for a bit. You change and head out as soon as you can, I don't want you to feel trapped here," Kabuto said.

Deidara bowed to thank Kabuto as he went upstairs to do whatever he must have had to do. He quickly disrobed and pulled on the chainmail shirt and pants, then wrapped the jacket around himself and tied it together with his bag. He looked over to where Erina was sleeping, only to find her awake and staring right at him. His face grew red, but he hastily got up and tried to leave without saying a word.

"Is that how you thank an old woman, young man?" Erina said.

Deidara turned around and bowed to her, then said, "Thank you very much for saving me, but I really have to leave now."

Erina let out a few loud hacking coughs before she said, "Now, now, you aren't going anywhere until you come over here and take this old ribbon out of my hands."

Confused, Deidara approached Erina and examined her hand, which was in-fact holding a seafoam-green ribbon. He took it from her, as she had asked, and asked, "What is this for, hm?"

"Tie it in your hair," Erina said, almost commanding him.

Deidara obediently did as he was instructed and tied the ribbon loosely near the bottom of his hair, then looked down to Erina, and asked, "Thank you, but why are you giving this to me?"

Erina chuckled, her voice raspy from old age, and said, "Just a curse, my dear."

Deidara's heart skipped a beat, and he asked, "What? Why are you putting a curse on me, hm?"

Erina looked him over, and in a low voice, she said, "Not you, Mater. Now go."

Deidara had other questions, but this old hag freaked him out too much to keep talking to her. He rushed out of the home, and slammed the door shut on his way out. He quickly bolted down the steps, and then into the woods that from his memory were south of where he had started his trek. He didn't want to spend any more time here, and he wondered to himself what exactly Kabuto was doing with an old woman who cursed people. It didn't matter, he supposed; it was more important that he made it to Wind Country safely. He covered his head with the cloak as the rain fell down in the dark forest; it looked as if there was no end in sight of the storm, but Deidara didn't mind. He enjoyed the protection it gave him from any pursuers, assuming nature didn't kill him in their stead.

-and-and-and-and-and-

Click.

Kabuto Yakushi picked up the old telephone in the room he had been offered by the old hag who took him in. He had scouted for a little while for his master, and now he might have a lead on someone who could fit the bill for his requested partner. Strong, young, and obedient. Stupid and naive as all hell, to boot. He was absolutely perfect.

He had just finished up his conversation with Sasori, and immediately dialed another source of intel he worked for. It wasn't fair that only Sasori got to know of this young man; he figured that the Wind Country should know he was coming, as well as the Earth Country.

Whatever became of him playing three sides at once, if any one of them suffered a casualty, he came out on top either way. Either his master he pretended to be utterly and unquestioningly loyal to was killed, the Wind Country would pose even less of a challenge when another little pet project needed to be carried out, or the Earth Country would suffer a major blow to its militia.

He heard Erina ramble on from time to time about an Earth Mother who she thanked for every damn thing under the sun, and Kabuto for once agreed with her. Whatever that Deity she believed in had definitely given him a blessing worth thanking an idol for, and what a blessing this was.

Kabuto had made absolutely sure that such a generous gift of death would not go to waste.

-and-and-and-and-and-