Note from the Author: Request for United Unicorn Society. Both characters are probably a little OOC, but I did my best. This became, somehow, an AU. O.o Hope no one minds.
Medium
Itachi's eyebrow lifted at the swan that lighted on his saucer. His frown properly conveyed his silent question: What is the purpose of this?
Deidara's delighted giggle echoed proudly around his coffee cup as he sipped. "Origami," he explained, picking up the paper bird between two fingers and stroking it lovingly. "It's my latest passion. They're so beautiful; simple little works of art."
Itachi exhaled through his nose in something near a snort. "Art."
Deidara's tossed his head indignantly, his blonde hair revealing the eye it hid and then curtaining it again. "Don't say it so disdainfully. Art makes the world beautiful."
"This coming from a man who makes a living as a hit man," Itachi's retort was in a monotone.
"I, unlike you, do not just kill people." The frazzled haughtiness of Deidara's voice was low, their subject matter clearly confidential as he leaned forward. "I am the greatest criminal explosives expert in the country. The government would kill to get their hands on me."
"Yet the world is beautiful."
He sighed, settling against the straight-backed chair, gaze turned toward the window. It was a particularly dreary day, all grey skies and cold breeze. The rain fell in an uncomfortable mist that made one feel sticky, drizzling down the windowpanes of the café in a fog. "Fire is a work of art." His voice was thoughtful. "The way the debris comes floating down, ignited, then smothered – It's beautiful. Explosions are just another medium."
Itachi's mug clinked against his saucer, and he lifted the origami swam, studying it carefully, "Another medium."
Deidara's gaze drifted back to him, the twitching upward of his lips marring his insistent frown. "You're just a medium yourself."
The pale fingers placed the little bird on the windowsill, a bright hopeful thing on such a dismal backdrop. "I am." The stress was on the 'I,' not quite a question but close enough to need an answer.
Deidara's eyes softened, as did his voice when his lips slowly moved. "You're just a work of art." He settled his chin on his hand, tapping the edge of the porcelain saucer with his spoon. "And don't we all know you're beautiful."