Hey guys I'm sorry I know I promised. Thanks to all who reviewed, PMed and texted me! Chocolates and lollipops and cookies for you guys! Anyway, here's an update. On a side note, O Levels have ended and I am happy. I hope I do well, lol. Also, I am in Europe now and guess what? Some pickpockets stole my phone on my first day in Paris. I was so goddamn pissed. Anyway, short chapter, sorry! Hope you guys like it.
Sasori was having trouble catching up. The muffled squeak of rubber soles against the street echoed as the redhead jogged up behind the agitated, oblivious blonde. "Deidara?" Sasori called, but he didn't respond— didn't hear him.
There was something about the way Deidara was desperately fumbling around his pocket for his keys as he neared the apartment that made Sasori suspect something wasn't right.
The blonde slipped in through the opening elevator doors and closed it just as Sasori stopped in front of it, yet he didn't see the redhead— he was too preoccupied with extracting the correct key from the key ring.
The stretch of time it took for the elevator to reach the eighth floor and back down to the lobby again was almost torturous. Sasori could feel his pulse throbbing harder than usual, and he knew it wasn't from the frantic run back to the apartment. The feeling was strangely foreign, and he couldn't place it. His mind scanned his bank of textbook knowledge. Was it curiosity? Was it fear? Worry?
To say that it was torturous might have been an understatement.
Sasori stood with the crown of his shoes an inch from the elevator doors as it ascended the block, his key ready in hand.
He didn't even need it. The lock didn't turn when he slotted the key into it— the door wasn't even locked. That's careless of him. Sasori shoved his way through the door and heard the sound of the running tap. Again…
"Hey brat?" No answer. Sasori walked towards the bathroom door, pushing it open almost tentatively. "Deidara?"
There was a clatter of metal against floor tiles and the sound of water running over skin, then of fumbling fabric.
Deidara had backed himself up against the sink, blue eyes wide in blinding paranoia. "D…Danna?"
Sasori froze at the spots of congealed red on the usually immaculate bathroom floors, but mostly, at the caked but still dripping blade at Deidara's feet. His dilating brown eyes slipped immediately away to settle on the sink—rivers of water dyed red branched out down the white sides into the plughole. "What is going on?" he looked at the paralyzed blonde. His breath hitched when he saw a black patch on Deidara's sleeve that was a shade darker than his shirt. "Deidara."
Deidara turned the stained sleeve away from Sasori and stood utterly still. "Nothing, un. I'm just—"
The redhead walked up to him and grasped his arm. Deidara inhaled sharply and tried to pull away, but Sasori had already tugged his sleeve up to expose the ugly, raw wounds snaking around his arm as the skin tried desperately to close up under Sasori's almost emotionlessly cold gaze.
"Why are you doing this to yourself?" was all Sasori could manage to whisper.
Maybe it was guilt, or the fear of having the redhead look at him with such disappointment, but the blonde's heart slowly cracked. "I'm just… I'm all right, Danna. It's just—"
"You're 'all right'?" Sasori's eyes were blazing. Deidara pressed his lips together and tried to integrate himself with the sink. "How are you 'all right', Deidara? You have fucking cuts on your arm. You have self-inflicted cuts on your fucking arm, do you know what that tells me? It tells me that you are not 'all right'."
Deidara flinched. The redhead would never use vulgarities if he could help it. Something twisted in the blonde's chest; it made him feel empty, but extremely filled up at the same time.
I have nothing to lose.
I have nothing left to lose.
"Why, Deidara? Why won't you tell me what's wrong? Why won't you let me help you?"
"Danna, you wouldn't understand."
The silence stitched their gazes together in a maelstrom. Sasori found himself unconsciously wincing when his eyes lingered a little too long over one of Deidara's scars. "Tell me anyway."
"I'm just sad, Danna. You can't make it go away, un."
"I can try. I would do so many things to help you feel better, but you didn't tell—"
"That's not all."
The redhead looked up into the blonde's eyes. The fragments of sorrow hidden in those one lively flecks embedded themselves into his heart, and for a moment, he could feel Deidara's helplessness and desperation. "What else?" he whispered.
"I'm in love, Danna." Deidara slowly pulled his arm away. "I'm in love with you, un."
And even though Sasori knew that it probably wasn't the best time to be sarcastic, he was.
"You're not as sad as I thought you are, brat, seeing as you still have the ability to crack jokes."
Neither would the redhead forget how broken those sapphire eyes that smashed into his conscience were.
"I suppose I'll always be a joke in itself to you, Danna, un."
A brush of shoulders and the sound of the front door slamming.
Silence.
The blonde had his hands shoved into his pockets as he shuffled down the street. It would be better if his tears would stop, but they didn't seem to want to listen to him today.
"You're not as sad as I thought you are, brat, seeing as you still have the ability to crack jokes."
"Yes," Deidara whispered to himself, "I'll always be a joke, un."
When he looked up, he saw that he was on the bridge. He stood at the railing, wondering why he put himself through what he was putting himself through.
Why did I fall in love with him?
Why am I sad?
Sitting on the railings didn't make his problems go away, but the wind helped to clear his head, making space for more problems. He fiddled idly with his phone, the screen opened in a new text message to Sasori. "I wasn't joking, Danna…"
The sudden vibration signaling an incoming call shocked the blonde so much his fingers released the phone.
Forgetting everything else, Deidara stretched as far out as he could to save his phone— or his words to Sasori.
When he remembered, he was too late.
"Fuck, un—"
Danna.
Danna…
Danna, I wasn't joking.
The blonde thought about how cold the water was as he fell in. So why are my scars burning?
The stare down was interrupted by the ringing of Itachi's phone.
The Uchiha answered it and Kisame immediately looked away, cheeks burning. "We will be there." As he hung up, Itachi stood up and gestured to the front door. "We're going to the hospital."
The blue-skinned man turned back to glare at him. "I swear, Itachi. If that is a reminder for another one of your unneeded appointments for me, I will destroy your phone and—"
"It's Konan. She says we need to get to the hospital. We need to be there now."
"Hidan, get the hell out of the bathtub, we're going to the hospital."
"Are you sick? Are you actually spending cash on fucking medical fees? Wow Kuzu, I am amazed—"
"Pein called. He says it's urgent."
Sasori was still standing outside the bathroom, staring at the bloodstained sink.
Maybe I shouldn't have said what I said.
But it was too sudden, even for Sasori. Deidara's words had made the redhead lose a little of his composure, and in his defense, he only had sarcasm at his disposal.
Someone hammered on the front door, and the redhead jumped, tripping backwards over the curb to the bathroom entrance before stumbling out to the hall. "Brat?" He flung the door open, and Tobi hurled himself inside.
"Sasori…" Zetsu rasped. "I—"
"SASORI-SAN!" Tobi wailed.
The redhead could feel his chest tightening and his heartbeat accelerated a little too much for his own liking.
"SASORI-SAN, SENPAI DROWNED!"
One last desperate glance at Zetsu confirmed that Tobi wasn't lying.
A/N: Please review! I haven't written in a while, sorry if it seems rusty. I am finally getting to the climax of this fic. Tell me what you think! Sorry it's so short, I promise the next chapter will be longer.