CH. 2- Life Is But A Dream
"Lady, do not mock me
I've been drinking too much sake!
Konoha girls are picky…"
It was a terrible drinking song, just the melody by itself. It skipped several keys and shimmied back and forth from ¾ time to 4/4, a considerable challenge for any drunkard. The words, however, were solid gold. There were glorious puns, double and triple entendres, and the chorus was a suggestion regarding the proper treatment of women and alcohol, couched in explicit and creative language.
Tobi warmed to the exertion of singing the chorus. In one hand he carried a bag of chips from the bar. Deidara waited impatiently at their booth, killing time by molding some of his clay. He would eat clay from one hand-mouth, carefully working it before spitting it out again. This time, he shaped a miniature kappa. Beady little eyes, a bowl-depression at the back of the head- every detail was flawless, except one last thing-
"Sanbi wasn't that hard, hmm!" He smiled and crushed the clay, destroying the tiny sculpture. "Can't make things go boom again yet," he said to himself. "Heh. A fine explosion when we nailed him, hmm. Too bad art is lost on some people." Tobi waved enthusiastically back at him with the bottle.
"Deidara-senpai! I brought more sake! 'And here's to the great stone faces/ men who've been worse places…." Tobi was not carrying the tune so much as kicking it forward once every couple of steps. Deidara impatiently gestured for him to sit down. "Where did you learn that rubbish? That part about the greased iguana is seriously disgusting."
"I learned it when I was just starting out. It was a drinking song in my village."
"I'd ask you to sing something else, but you weren't really singing that one..."
"Deidara-senpai, I think you're just being mean. I suppose you're better?"
"You bet I am." Deidara cleared his throat and started singing 'Stars of Violent Harmony' in his clear, deep baritone. Tobi stumbled as the notes rang out in the bar. "Wow, Senpai! I had no idea you could sing. That's amazing!"
Deidara smiled and sang a little louder- Tobi happily hummed along. His mask was perched on the side of his head, allowing him to drink freely. This exposed his hideously scarred face, but that didn't matter, here. This bar had been an Akatsuki hangout for years, and none of the patrons would dream of giving offense to anyone wearing the famous cloak. Besides, Tobi's scars only were on one side, and the other side was not bad to look at. All in all, he was far less remarkable than the other members.
Deidara often wondered how someone as apparently talentless could have been considered to replace Sasori. He had been disturbed by Sasori's death, even if he masked it. In his heart he had considered Sasoria an equal, someone he probably could not have beaten in battle. This talentless clown was supposed to take his place as a partner. Deidara had resolved to lump it and make a pretense at least of accepting Tobi. Tolerating his antics was one of the larger sacrifices Deidara had made for Akatsuki. But things had gotten better since Sasori's funeral, when Tobi had fallen asleep during the eulogy. Even though he had wanted to strangle the goof numerous times and had hit him with exploding clay, Deidara was developing a sense of affection for him.
Deidara's favorite waitress was signaling them from the other side of the crowded room. She pointed at the bar and held up a finger to ask if he wanted 'the usual'. Deidara nodded. Kohana came back with three more shots of tequila, slices of lime, and salt. She was smiling- Deidara's blue eyes and blond hair had made him a favorite. "Tobi-san is new here, isn't he, Deidara-sama? Do you think he likes it?"
"He likes it so far, yeah."
"Has he had tequila before?"
"What's tequila?"
Kohana smiled. "It's wonderful, Tobi-san. We started carrying it because Deidara-sama requested it, but it's become quite popular."
"Really."
"Show him how to drink it, Kohana," Deidara suggested, smiling indulgently at his new partner. Maybe he could educate Tobi's tastes a little, get the moron to really appreciate something he valued.
Kohana set the tray down and placed a shot in Tobi's right hand, then took an extra lime wedge and the shaker. "You start by sprinkling salt on the corner of your hand. The tequila is in your other hand. You lick it," her tongue slid against the webbing of her salt-sprinkled hand, "Then you slam it," she pantomimed downing a shot, "and then you suck it, " and she bit the lime slice so hard that a trickle of juice ran down her cheek. "Lick, slam, suck. Got it?" She looked Tobi straight in the eye throughout the demonstration. Tobi smiled shyly back at her. "O-kay."
"Good boy." Deidara was picking up the lime when Tobi continued, "But I don't get it. If it's so good, then why do you need the salt and lime?"
"It's ritual," she said just as Deidara said, "It's fleeting." Kohana stuck her tongue out at him. Tobi was getting more confused by the minute.
He hadn't been to a place like the Red Leaf before, and it was hard to tell what was going on. None of the patrons stared at his scars, but no one had been friendly, either. Whenever he went up to the crowded bar, people moved out of the way. Conversation would die down and not resume until he had gone back to the booth.
And then, then there was Deidara's easy camaraderie with the waitress. Her body language and breathless voice indicated she, at least, was too infatuated with his senpai to give a damn about anyone else in the bar, blithely ignoring her other 'regulars' to stand next to him and chat while what seemed like fifty million people tried to get drinks. Tobi shook his head. There was too much alcohol in his system, and he knew that because he also knew he'd be unable to refuse if Deidara gave him any more to drink. And Deidara looked more cheerful than Tobi had ever seen him. His right hand rested on the waitress' rounded buttock, lightly touching the starched fabric of her uniform. She turned to nod at another patron walking past, taking the opportunity to press herself against the familiar hand. Tobi flushed and looked back into Deidara's eyes, realizing he was still explaining the art of tequila.
Deidara, his eyes half closed, was gesturing with the shotglass in his other hand. "Tequila is bitter on the palate- incredibly strong, so strong that it's best experienced as medium between two extremes. An explosion, savored only when it's already over and burning in your stomach." Tobi tried really hard not to yawn.
"But how can you taste it that way?"
Deidara sighed a long-suffering, theatrical sigh. It was something he could only do when he was this drunk. When he spoke, his voice was unsettlingly calm. "I took you out here so we could have a good time. I thought, let's drink a little before going home, celebrate our first mission. Don't you... dare ruin my good mood, Tobi."
"Sorry, Deidara-senpai. Now, does the salt or the lime come first?"
"Just watch me and DRINK THE DAMN TEQUILA!" Deidara snarled. The mouth on his left hand licked the skin between its thumb and index finger, and he sprinkled salt on it. He picked up the lime in one hand and the shot glass in the other. Tobi fumbled for a minute and managed to focus enough to get salt on his ungloved hand. He picked up the lime and mirrored Deidara's actions, the tequila creating a pleasant burn from his mouth,down his throat. It felt sickening, far too strong and too aggressive, but was producing a comfortable feeling of lightheadedness. He simultaneously wanted more and wanted to puke.
"I don't feel so good."
"You'll feel better in a minute, yeah. Can't you feel it, the way it burns your stomach? You feel it in your stomach and then your head, hmmm." Deidara decided to ignore his partner's complaining and finally, really enjoy himself.
"Uwaehh..."
"Aw, damn it." Deidara stopped kissing the waitress. He blearily regarded the crumpled form on the tiles. "Shoulda known a 'good boy' like him couldn't hold it, uh huh."
"Do you need help getting him back home?"
"Not really. We're staying across the street, uhn."
"How long-" "What time do you get off?" they said at the same time. Kohana flushed and looked away. Deidara touched her chin with two fingers, forcing her to make eye contact. "We can't stay in town long, yeah."
"I know, Deidara-sama. And you can't tell me when you'll be back."
"That's right, my sweet Kohana." She nodded, biting her lip.
"The four hundred-year anniversary is tomorrow, you know. They're celebrating with fireworks tonight at midnight."
"You live on the top floor, don't you," he whispered against her cheek. His other hand rested with calm authority, this time on her back. She sighed.
"Ye-yes..."
"I'll be on the roof at midnight. Get off early and bring some blankets, hmm?" He gave a little push.
"I've got to finish my tables first. I might be a little late."
"I'll wait." She walked away, carrying herself with confidence, even putting a bit more sway than usual in her walk so as to give him a show. Everyone else at the bar had been too busy drinking to notice the encounter, either wrapped in their own affairs, or, like Tobi, too drunk to stand up. Deidara hoisted him over his shoulder, wishing the kid had waited until they had made it to the inn to decide that hard liquor did not agree with him. Damn! This was going to look undignified, especially if the leader found out about it.
* * * Shortly Afterward, at the Inn
Tobi drifted between dream and nightmare. The nightmare brought a sole comfort: the Passenger had been put to sleep. Tobi wandered through missions, sleep, and play in a daze, always half-mesmerized by the dark presence at the corner of his mind. The Passenger. Tobi was afraid of him, and aware that he was still alive in no small measure because the Passenger willed it.
The Passenger was weak, now. Banished by the more immediate chimeras of strong alcohol, Tobi felt himself inclined to breathe freely and deeply.
Naturally inclined to fantasy, he floated as shapes of his life flitted past him, brought on by a state of intoxication he had never reached before. A boulder that tried to crush him to death would become a man standing over him, holding his missing eye, blood trickling from his face. A young girl cried for help and did not recieve any. Tobi in his dream state tried to find her, pushing through tall grass towards a hidden glade.
The girl being tortured was very young, hardly more than thirteen. She was struggling not to cry as a ninja held a knife over her. "Don't try and be brave, little miss. Your friends aren't coming for you."
Someone should be coming soon, Tobi thought. He felt detached, as if he had walked in on a movie halfway through. He wondered if someone would come and rescue her...her crying was beginning to annoy him. Finally he walked to where she was being held. He regarded her curiously.
"Why didn't you come back? I was counting on you," the girl whimpered. "You never came."
"I didn't know I was supposed to," Tobi said helplessly. "Are you going to be okay?"
The girl turned into a young boy with a mask on his face. He was crouching on the floor, hugging himself tightly. A mask covered the lower half of his face. He didn't look at Tobi. He didn't look at anything.
The boy was crying, tears streaming from both eyes. Tightly clenched in his fist were two headbands caked with drying blood....Tobi, very gently, tried to touch the boy's shoulder. His hand went right through it.
The boy looked up at him, silver hair flopping sideways, away from his face. The boy's eyes were full of pain and loneliness, private and direct as an accusation. Tobi tried to, but he couldn't meet that fiercely desperate glance. Tobi knew beyond doubt that any attempt to comfort this child would fail. Anything he might say would only belittle the anguish on the boy's face. Tobi helplessly tried to fidget with the bolt on his arm, but it was missing.
When had that happened to his arm? He was certain that he knew why he had those scars a moment ago. Out loud he said, "But I've always looked like this." He took off his mask and felt his face. The skin was smooth to the touch; the gnarled, twisting scars had been replaced by smoothness. All the more strange since…
Since his face had been rebuilt. He could remember the crying and pain. Too much pain to even be angry that they made him cry.
Needles, bandages and a smell like death as they operated on his crushed body. First they went into his chest, stitching and sewing, before reinflating his lungs and wrapping the body cast. He could taste the rubber of the balloon they used to force air into his lungs…
They couldn't fix his face, other than making sure it was reconstructed enough for him to eat, breathe, and see. They had to re-break the poorly set bones and graft from them before they were finished.
A butterfly flitted, bluer than blue, past him. He waved it away.
"That was rude," it said.
"You!" he exclaimed. "Why are you a butterfly?"
"Because you're not dying…you're remembering a time you almost did. Therefore you cannot see me except like this. Remember my hand? I wore blue then."
"You were here the last time... in the pain before everything I've forgotten. How is it that I didn't remember?"
"In this dream state you are very close to the reality of the world- a dangerous place." The butterfly perched for a second on his hand, waving its antennae for emphasis. "You and I are walking on the back of a sleeping dragon, my friend."
"What dragon?"
"A dragon called the Past."
"The past…passing by, a passenger?" he hazarded.
"Yes," agreed the butterfly. ". I can warn you a little before you dream- beware the Passenger. He's too strong right now for you. Do not let him become aware of you lest he try to obliterate your memories completely."
"What memories? Hey, where are you going…" He tried to catch it with his hands, but they couldn't move as fast as the wings; the blueness of them almost blurred his vision.
"No! Stop!" He coughed as he reached for her again…
And was abruptly brought around long enough to vomit before passing out again.