Chapter 9:
Ino's remark kept replaying in Deidara's mind as he ran to the house, feet flying over the paved pathway that led through the woods. It was around 2:00 in the afternoon and he knew Sasori would be back in their room, more than likely working on fixing the broken puppet.
Deidara hadn't a clue as to how he would bring up the conversation about their feelings for each other, but he knew that if he didn't, it would eat at him until he did.
He charged through the front doors, racing past the living room where Itachi and Kisame were busy playing pool, past the indoor pool where Konan and Pein were swimming with each other, and up the stairs, passing Hidan who pressed himself against the wall to avoid getting rammed into by the clay artist.
"Watch where you're going, Deidara!" he heard the silver-haired boy say, but didn't bother replying as he rounded the corner and spotted the door to their room. He smiled widely and charged in.
"SASORI!"
No reply came, but that was also due to the fact that the room was completely empty. There was no sign of the redhead anywhere. In fact, everything was left just how it had been left this morning, the covers and duvet of Sasori's bed still on the ground, his closet doors open, and Deidara's bed still unmade.
The only one standing in that room was Deidara. He swiveled his head from left to right, and back again, confusion marring his face. "Sasori no Danna, where are you?"
When no reply came yet again, his face scrunched into a snarl. "You better not be shitting with me here, un! Where the hell are you?!"
"Are you looking for Sasori?" a voice said softly from behind him. The blonde whirled around, senses on high alert, but he felt himself relax immediately at the sight of Konan, clad in a black cover-up and purple hair pulled into a ponytail. He sighed. "Yeah, I am, actually. Have you seen him?"
"He hasn't been back at the house since he left earlier this morning," she explained, leaning against the threshold. "He looked like he was in a rush to get out, in fact. Like he was running from something. Did you two have another fight?"
"You could say that," Deidara mumbled, averting his gaze. Sasori hadn't returned since he walked out of the room this morning. Where the hell could he be then? He couldn't have just walked out and disappeared! That's not possible on a huge campus like this!
"Well, I'm sure he'll be back before nighttime," she gave him a soft smile and walked back down the hallway with a hand-wave 'goodbye', leaving Deidara alone, again. He walked over to his bed and fell atop the wrinkled duvet, not even caring how he must look.
In more ways than one, he felt defeated. He had been so anxious to talk to his roommate, but seeing as the bastard wasn't even in the house made him not only feel annoyed, but as if all that built-up anxiety had been for nothing. But where could Sasori have gone? He didn't seem like the type to be late or stray from schedule, so why all of sudden was he being a flake?
The blonde rolled until he was lying on his back and staring up at the ceiling. Well, wherever the puppeteer was, he wasn't going to worry himself too much. Doing that would be a waste of energy that he could have used for his art, instead.
Thinking that, he sat up and grabbed his clay bag.
An empty room makes for a perfect practice area, after all.
Night had fallen across the university, and Sasori was still nowhere to be found. Deidara smashed together the clay he had been working on with fierce annoyance, impatience as thin as a sewing string. His blue orbs stared coldly at his roommate's bed across from his, still unmade and untouched. Where the hell could he be?!
A knock resounded on the door and the clay artist bolted onto his feet, reaching the door in three giant steps and throwing it open, his relief falling fast as he realized it was Itachi on the other side. Deidara sighed heavily, leaning on the doorframe. "Can I help you?"
"Um…I wanted to know if Sasori was in there?" the raven-haired boy asked sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. "I've been trying to call his cell since he hasn't checked back in since this morning, but I'm getting no answer."
"I've been trying to call for the past five hours, Itachi," the blonde answered, almost automatically. As soon as he had stopped practice earlier, he had taken the liberty to try and call Sasori to try and get any luck there. But, the call went straight to voicemail.
That hadn't stopped Deidara from leaving voice messages, and so many of them, in fact, that he had filled up the entire mailbox with his anxious voice.
"Damn, well…wherever he is, I'm sure he's fine," Itachi smiled warmly. However, it was that same damn smile that Konan had given him earlier. That smile that was more sympathetic than empathetic, and that really pissed Deidara off. He felt his anger rising like bile through his body and he murmured a quick, "Same here," before slamming the door in the leader's face.
He walked hastily over to the window and stared out into the dense forest, pitch black and ominous. Then, without warning, he slammed his forehead against the window, vibrations running towards the corners and back. He then proceeded to do it again, even harder, and then a third time, until he continued to bash his head against the window repeatedly, doing so even as his head started to become heavy with dizziness.
Where the hell was Sasori?! Why was he even so damn worried about the kid?! Where could he have gone?! Why the fuck was he so damn WORRIED?!
These two questions kept repeating in his mind as he slammed his forehead into the window again. He stopped abruptly when his eyes caught a thick line of blood begin to trail down the smooth surface. He stepped away and placed a hand on his forehead, not surprised to feel hot liquid pooling out of the wound.
An anger he had never felt before suddenly erupted through his veins and he screamed. It was a scream that ricocheted around the room, bouncing off the walls and reverberating in his ears as it increased in volume to a blood-curdling scream.
It was at that moment that his vision reddened.
When Deidara finally overcame the red in his eyes, he stared awestruck at a room that was half disheveled. The bed sheets and duvet of Sasori's bed were now clear across the other side of the room, the drawers of his nightstand were out and lying on the floor, scattering artist tools as well, and Sasori's clothes had been ripped off the hangers from inside the closet and were now lying in random heaps on the dark carpet.
The blonde huffed once and, without even cleaning his forehead, stepped over to his bed and flopped down, falling asleep.