This and the next two parts were originally one big section, but it was over 13,000 words long, so I have divided it up into bite-sized pieces for you to enjoy. Funny thing is, I started thinking of this in terms of a fold-able lawn chair, hence the odd titles.

Anyway, this part was actually the second chapter I wrote about Isuki, which I find entertaining.

Reasons - The Unfolding

"Deidara, I need your help with something," came Michiko's voice from outside his door.

"Do you need something blown up? Because if you don't you should probably ask someone else right now," he added loudly, channeling all his attention back to the set of sculptures he was working on. They were going to be extremely elaborate, and they were going to be perfect in every detail. Because Michiko's deathday was days away, and he would have the best gift ever for her this time around.

"No, I really need your help, now; you're the only one who listens to me besides Itachi."

"Then go talk to him. That makes more sense anyway, yeah."

"I can't," she insisted. "He's on a mission."

"Oh, yeah… Can't you just speak to him mentally?" he asked desperately, trying to get rid of her. It had to be a surprise, or it would be pointless.

"He's too far away, or I would."

Oh, that's okay, he thought grouchily. I can't even play the fiddle very well, so the second one's just fine with me.

"Okay," he sighed, crushing the sculpture in surrender. "Come in if you must, yeah."

When she did she looked at him skeptically. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he muttered sarcastically. "I was just working on something that requires immense concentration, that's all."

"Oh… Well if you want I'll just leave, then…"

"No, now that you're here you might as well get it over with, yeah. What do you need my help with?"

Michiko sat down on his bed and stared at him imploringly with her somewhat unnerving sightless gaze. "I need your advice."

Deidara groaned inside; this would take ages. When she wanted advice she really almost always wanted comforting, and she was riddled with self-doubt. "Okay, yeah. What is it?"

"Well… it's Isuki."

"Wouldn't it be better to wait for Itachi to get back and talk to him about this?"

"No, it can't wait," she blurted quickly, as if she didn't have to think about it. "She thinks now that she's hit her teens she should be allowed to hunt for her own food."

"Why shouldn't she, yeah? She's perfectly capable of it."

"I know, but I don't think she should yet."

"There. You say no, yeah. Isn't that the end of it?"

"…No," she whined miserably, "because I feel horrible and I'm second-guessing every decision I make. She's perfectly capable, but the illusion's off and if she runs into a person she won't think they taste bad. I don't want her to have my problems, but the chances she'll run into someone are slim."

"Michiko, she'll be fine, yeah," he soothed, leaning back in his chair. "She's had the Sharingan since she was five, and now that she can finally fly…"

"I know, but she doesn't know its potential. And then I think it's the best way for her to realize that potential, and… I don't know, I get so confused."

"Michiko, you have a good instinct. Follow it."

"But when she brought it up, do you know how she did? She said that getting rabbits from the pen was boring. She wants to hunt things down and kill them herself. It makes me think this was a horrible environment for a child to grow up in, and I wonder if we should have stooped her at an orphanage or something, but then I think of how no one else knows the history behind her and wouldn't have understood why she didn't eat normal food and I know it was right to keep her here, but… It never stops, Deidara," she whispered painfully. "I'm a horrible parent; I can't even friggin' make decisions…"

She sounded so wretched Deidara was glad she had asked for advice. It sounded like she really just needed to vent and have someone tell her everything was going to be okay.

Deidara sat forward and propped his elbows on his knees. "I know a perfect way to make sure you're making the right decision, yeah." When she looked back up at him hopefully it felt like someone had his heart in their fist, but he continued anyway. "Whenever you have trouble making a decision, yeah, just ask yourself, 'What would Deidara do?' And then, do exactly the opposite."

Michiko chuckled quietly, and Deidara smiled. "It works for me every time, yeah."

"Come on, your decisions aren't that bad," she tried to say seriously between laughs.

"Oh yes they are, yeah. Following them got me here, didn't it? You just be thankful your instinct isn't dysfunctional."

"You know, sometimes I'm not so sure…"

"Michiko, stop it; you have better instinct than anyone I've ever known."

Michiko eyed him curiously. "I wasn't fishing for compliments, but thanks, I guess…"

"I can even prove it!" he crowed in a fit of inspiration. He leapt out of his chair and soared to the door, locking it. "What does instinct tell you now?" he asked triumphantly.

"Um, that you're about to do something we're both going to regret…?"

"Good! Even if I'm not, that's what it seems like, and your instinct is probably screaming that you should get away before something happens." He swaggered over to the bed and sat down next to her. "It must be even worse now, right?" he whispered, breathing in her ear.

"Yes," she agreed hesitantly. "But that's because you're trying to make me feel uncomfortable, so my instinct is being heavily influenced."

He sighed, exasperated. "Michiko, you never believe me when I try and tell you your life is good, yeah. Your instinct has to be great," he insisted, grasping at straws, "because… Because you didn't pick me!"

He grinned manically. "You followed your instinct and picked Itachi, so it has to be right, right? Right?" His eyes roamed over her wistfully, but he gritted his teeth and managed to hold back. She didn't want him, and that made her instinct almost perfect. But that didn't stop him from wanting her. And he wanted her.

Gods, how he wanted her!

Michiko edged away and turned to face him, looking thoughtful. "That's my biggest problem," she mumbled ponderously, bowing her head and looking up at him from behind her blood red bangs. "Because I always second-guess that decision, too." She eased closer to him, slowly, cautiously, closing her eyes just before her lips brushed against his own.

His tension at the anticipation left him like a whoosh of breath, and suddenly instead of being uptight he was pounding all over. Then he felt everything at once, every pulse of blood in his limbs, the nervous twitch of his stomach.

He should have stopped it, he knew. He should have tried, but something possessed him to kiss her back, and he did, like… well, like one possessed. He pushed her down with his mouth, allowing the sensations to steadily escalate, increase, and he knew Michiko could feel it, too. His hands were braced on either side of her, and her arms were hooked around his neck, and the connection didn't break.

Their combined weight was taking a toll on his shoulders and neck while he kept himself up on all fours, though, so he slid down until he was propped over her on his elbows instead, grasping fistfuls of bed sheet in his now free hands to keep his muscles from spasming as the pleasure rippled through him. She tasted like something bittersweet and passing, and he crested it like a wave, riding it back down to reality. But reality was just as good.

The pulse of his blood sounded in his ears, and the rhythmic beating was like a metronome, giving him a tempo to work with as he began to insinuate himself against her, twisting slightly when clenching his fists wasn't enough to keep him from experiencing spasms of gratification anymore. He was tingling, and the sensation filled him full to overflowing, and he felt Michiko give a small gasp and a moan, and then there was more than just implicit insinuating motions.

And he continued, intensifying, kissing her with a hunger too long denied.

'Dad?' Isuki thought loudly, trying to pinpoint him. He was far away, or it would have been easier, but she was better at this than her mom.

'…Could you hold on just a moment?' he asked tersely. But despite the tone in his thoughts he let her inside his mind for a moment, and she wondered why she was being treated until she looked out his eyes and saw the cowering victim as he closed in for the kill.

Isuki felt a tightening in her core, like always, and she knew she wanted some of it. Her mom didn't understand how she felt, how she craved the thrill she got when she watched someone die, but her dad knew exactly what she was about. Her dad would let her go hunting in the forest for something other than measly little rabbits. But that wasn't why she had called him.

'What is it?' he asked curiously. 'I can't talk long.'

'It's mom,' she told him simply. 'I'm worried about her. I tried to call her, but she won't answer me. I can't even tell where she is.'

She could feel his pulse rise; he knew that she was the most skilled among them with mental communication, and if she couldn't find mom something was wrong.

'Are you sure?' he asked, and Isuki could hear the panic setting into his tone. 'Are you sure she isn't at the base?'

'If she is I can't find her. I've looked everywhere for her, everywhere she normally goes, and I can't find her.' Technically that was a small lie, because she hadn't checked Deidara's room, but he had told her not to disturb him because he was working on her mom's deathday present. Dad would have been miffed, so she didn't tell him.

Besides, Deidara was really starting to creep her out. Of course, they were still somewhat friends, in a way, but needless to say they didn't play like they used to when she was younger. No, the weird part was the way he always told her how she looked exactly like her mom, and sometimes she caught him staring at her curiously. It gave her chills.

'Okay then, don't worry.' Isuki heard him speak aloud, muffled though, as if heard from a distance. "Kisame, can you finish this by yourself?"

"Yeah, why?"

'Isuki? I'll be there as soon as possible. Under a day.'

'Okay, dad. See you soon.'

'Bye.'

'Bye.'

Michiko broke from her drift with a start, sitting up violently in bed.

It was just a dream, she told herself calmly.

'Dream, or nightmare?' Jurag asked rhetorically.

'Nightmare,' she amended. 'Definitely nightmare.'

It had been so vivid, she couldn't be sure what it was on about. She chalked it up to not having seen Itachi in almost a week, and her subconscious was scratching her itch. Sighing, she lied back down and rested her head on her pillow.

Deidara was breathing quietly inches away from her face and she squealed, falling out of bed.

She organized herself and gathered the sheet she had pulled off around her for warmth and support, peering cautiously over the edge of the mattress at him. He was still sleeping soundly, and Michiko drew in a breath with the express purpose of sighing in relief. She dashed into the bathroom and got dressed quickly before making an expedient exit, hoping no one had heard her scream.

Either this is a very elaborate nightmare, or I'm totally screwed.

'I don't think this is just a nightmare anymore, Michiko. And I think you already have been.'

Michiko groaned as she slipped out the door, squealing again when she was met by Zetsu hanging out of the ceiling. She fell back against the door briefly before she stood up again, giving him a steely glare.

"I didn't know you were sleeping with Deidara now. Sir Leader isn't going to be pleased… Neither is Itachi."

Michiko gave a gurgle of indignation. "I'm not! I just woke up and he was there!"

"She can't even remember what they did… It would be a shame if Sir Leader found out, wouldn't it? Indeed…"

"You're not going to breathe a word of this to anyone. Not to the Leader, not to Itachi, or Isuki, and especially not to Eris."

" I'm sorry, but there's already a bag missing a cat. And I didn't eat it, if that's what you're thinking…"

"What do you mean?" she asked darkly, threatening.

"Itachi's on his way back. He'll be here later this afternoon."

"Did they finish early?" Please say they finished early.

"No, Isuki called him back… She tried calling you last night, apparently, but you didn't answer…"

'And you thought it was just your conscience niggling at the back of your mind during your itch-scratching last night,' Jurag realized for her, laughing. 'Yep; you have been and will be totally screwed.'

Michiko ignored him and focused on Zetsu. "Don't tell anyone," she demanded with a little bit of plead. "I can fix this. This so wasn't supposed to happen, but I can fix everything. If I insist nothing happened, Deidara will think that he dreamed it, just like I did, except he's not going to find out. Right?"

"Fat chance of that," his black side snorted derisively. "But okay, if you really want us to…"

"Great. I'd hug you, but you really creep me out, so I'm just gonna go now."

Deidara woke up slowly, groggy, rubbing the sleep out of his eye and stretching his arms, yawning with the mouths on his palms as well.

He settled back in, closed his eyes, and wondered if Michiko had meant it when she told him she loved him last night, or if it had just been pointless words in the heat of the moment.

Smiling broadly, he slit his eyelid and glanced over at her - and she wasn't there. Panicked, Deidara sat up and stared at the other side of his bed, as if Michiko would rematerialize there if he looked hard enough.

It couldn't have been a dream, could it? He remembered everything, and that was the only explanation for why he was so tired, and it was so real, so vivid. It had been… mind-blowing, and he had never felt the things he'd felt before, and now he was supposed to come to the sad realization that it had only been a dream? No. It had been too absolute to be a mere fantasy… Right?

Suddenly he wasn't so sure anymore. The idea was so ridiculous; Michiko didn't love him, or want him, or need him, and she would hardly tell him the time of day, let alone do anything with him. Obviously he was starved for affection, hers specifically, thus the way she made him feel transcended the barrier between the real and dream worlds.

Still… if only that could have been real…

Deidara groaned and rolled out of bed, assuming that because dreams did affect you physically, it was only logical he felt… so exhausted. He was tense and sore in muscles he never even knew he had… Sighing, he frumped over to his desk and stared blearily at the wads of clay sitting there, one crushed flat as a pancake.

Wait… he had been halfway finished with one of the sculptures the other day. It hadn't been squashed before the dream. Or had it? Nnnh; he couldn't even remember anymore. He could always ask Michiko… in a roundabout sort of way. Otherwise it could get really awkward, really fast. Especially for poor Isuki.

Next he frumped over to the bathroom. Something was off. The whole atmosphere of the bathroom was changed, as if someone else had been there… Which was ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous.

He stopped when he was about to cup his hands under the faucet and gargle; there was skin under his fingernails. He examined it closely and found it wasn't his, for sure, because it was paper white. Ponderous, he went through his entire morning ritual anticipating the end when he would go talk to Michiko.

Normally he wouldn't even think of going to look for her, but these weren't normal circumstances. And besides, Itachi wasn't there, so it was all good. Otherwise… eek.

"Michiko?" he asked blandly when he opened the door and looked out.

No response.

"Isuki?"

"What?" Isuki asked equally as noncommittally when she turned the corner.

"…Where's your mother, yeah?" he asked reluctantly, cocking his head.

"Why?" she returned skeptically.

Deidara paused. She had never actually questioned him before, just told him what he wanted to know. She was getting to be exactly like her mother. "I am going to go stealthily retrieve input on the sculptures I'm making for her, yeah," he lied between his teeth.

"There's more than one? Can I come, too? I can help; when I'm there conversations between you two aren't nearly as awkward."

"…Um, no," he replied, frozen inside. Isuki was a lot more observant than she let on, and she was worming into the problem. "It'll be a surprise for you, too, so I don't want you being privy to the plan, yeah. Sorry."

"Oh… okay…" Deidara sagged when she sighed, sounding so disheartened. "She's in the kitchen, I think, but she might be getting herself a rabbit." At that she made a face.

"Thanks." He patted her head as he passed her, and added appreciatively, "You know, you seem more like your mother every time I see you."

"Thanks, I guess," she muttered insincerely, glaring at him out of the corner of her eye.

Deidara was shaken. She is just like Michiko, he realized sadly. And she's got an unnerving amount of Itachi in her, too. He drifted slightly quicker than he had planned over to the kitchen, as if the air in the hall had suddenly become charged with darkness and it was in his best interest to get out of there. He turned into the kitchen and flooded with relief before he collided with Michiko on her way out.

"Watch where you're going," she snapped irritably, swatting at his shoulder.

"Michiko," he asked reticently, diving straight into it immediately, "did you have an odd dream last night?"

She didn't even bat an eyelash. "No. I don't dream. Why?"

Something flashed in her eyes, though, and he wondered what it was. "Because I had this really weird dream, and you were in it, and so was I…"

"Is this something I want to hear?" she asked scornfully, gesturing to a point behind him. His scope locked in on a furtive, blurred reflection in one of the pots by the sink that was still recognizably Isuki.

Her eyes shifted, and something was communicated in that glance. It was as if they shared something, very briefly in that look. Like she was telling him without words: I had the same dream last night, but it wasn't a dream.

It was a mistake.

He nodded slightly, relieved and at the same time crushed by the realization. It was something they had never been meant to share, and they never would again. He was distracted by the disappearance of the blur, and then he saw her dash past the other opening in the wall.

"Daddy!" she shrieked happily, flying at Itachi when he got through the door and knocking him back out onto the ground. Literally. Her dark, wine red wings that matched her hair were slightly too big for the width of the main hall, but she pulled them in before they got any serious damage and hit Itachi like a missile.

Deidara got a small satisfaction watching him get bowled over and hearing the air whoosh out of his lungs. He glanced over when Michiko slipped away and stood in the doorway, laughing and helping them both up. He chuckled slightly when she had him halfway standing and Isuki latched onto him again, dragging him back down flailing his arm comically, and then he saddened considerably.

Michiko managed to pull Itachi back through the door and shut it on Isuki, stand up on her toes, and plant a kiss squarely between his cheek and the corner of his lips. You can say a lot of things with a kiss like that.

Deidara turned his back on them when Itachi looked at her in this no-nonsense way and hugged her tightly, rolling across the wall and keeping her pressed up against it softly while he kissed her back.

He was halfway back to his room when he realized Isuki must have found her way back inside because he heard a shrill, "Eeeeeeeeew! Gross, cut it out!", and he tittered bitterly. She streaked past him with an arm flung over her eyes, darting out the back way. He sighed wistfully, watching her shoot up into the air and disappear into the forest.

There was a time passed when she would have clung to his pant leg and begged to play with him.

Isuki shot through the trees, whipping over, around, and between trunks as if she had been flying all her life instead of under two weeks.

She didn't know where she was going yet, but she was really just aiming for "away".

Honestly. Her parents could be so… disgusting. They were both so insensitive to the fact that she didn't appreciate when they… ugh. You'd think they could be a little more… mature about it.

Deidara didn't help. She hardly even felt like a person around him anymore. It was like she was wearing some big label on her forehead: "Looks like her mother." She wasn't even Isuki; she was just her mom's daughter.

Everyone else practically ignored her, and the only three who didn't were the ones she wished would ignore her: Maddie, Tobi, and Eris. Maddie was just so… ingratiating all the time, trying to be her friend and stuff. It got pretty damn annoying. Tobi was even worse, because he was too chipper (she was sure he had to be smoking Zetsu or something to be that happy all the time), and whenever he wasn't it was like she was this little fly that looked interesting for a while until something prettier fluttered past and lured him away. And Eris, she was the worst. It was like she hated her or something, but she didn't really mind so much because she hated her right back. If looks could kill, Isuki would have been dead a hundred times over. Eris did everything in her considerable power to screw with her life.

At this rate she would surely develop some sort of complex.

But Sasori helped. He was always so calm and collected, like he understood how she felt about "humans". Like he didn't really care that she was a freak of nature and lived for the kill. Sometimes it felt like he was the only one who could actually relate to her, and it was a depressing yet comforting feeling.

It was partially the way he was always so cool, but he still managed to radiate this… warmth. And she tried her best to reflect it back at him, because she always felt like she owed him something, but she wasn't sure he even noticed.

Even if he did he just didn't show it very well, thanks to his quiet dignity (that was one of the reasons she was really starting to dislike Deidara; she had overheard him one time saying that he had "all the expression range of a rock, yeah", which was so untrue. He had so many expressions; he just didn't use them very often. It was so worth it to see him smile, too, because she always got this little sparkling blaze in the pit of her stomach, like how she imagined anything but rabbits would taste except even better because you were never expecting him to actually smile at you.), he probably avoided it even more so because Eris was always hovering, quite literally, over his shoulder, and Isuki could tell if Eris was a voodoo goddess she would look like an acupuncture addict by now.

Her life would just be a whole lot better in general if Eris ceased to play a part in it.

Isuki felt her lips curl back into a devious, fanged grin, and veered to the left, turning off her random course by two degrees and tilting east. Sometimes her brain worked so diabolically fast she really loved her dad.

If she were to turn in a report, per se, and reveal the location of the base, the entire forest would be crawling with nin from every village that could be mustered. She could arrive back at the base staggering in mid-flight, exhausted, telling them she had barely escaped one of the patrols spearheading through the forest and that it wouldn't take long for them to discover the base. Sir Leader would evacuate, and everyone would leave, but… what? Eris would have to be left behind? Oh, dammit…

Giggling, Isuki poured on some more speed and barreled through the trees, streamlining her body until the foliage was hardly even a blur, more like a smear on a blank canvas… She snatched up a squirrel from its branch and crushed it into her fangs, savoring the tang of its blood sliding down her throat.

The air was rank with victory.

What an evil child! So, next part just continues this, no age change whatsoever.