Infiltration: Part 2
Microfic by Sarehptar

"Mommy?" The voice inside the house was quiet, unsure. "Mommy? MOMMY!" He heard the light form collapse; he heard the delicate scrape of clothed knees across the sanguine floor. His footsteps never faltered. "MOMMY!"

"Chotto neechan, un!"(1) The brown-eyed girl blinked owlishly over her shoulder, surprised to find a haggard, blond young man -or was it woman?- come running up the path. His (it had to be a boy) smile was shockingly wide and friendly, and any unease that came from meeting a stranger at night slipped away. His attire was odd, and she knew instantly that he had to be a traveler: he kept turning an strangely decorated rice field hat over in one hand.

"Yes?" She blinked as he stopped beside her. Panting?

"Could you tell me where the bathhouse is, un?" She surveyed him for a moment and pointed off to her left.

"Three streets that way."

"Doumo!" His visible blue eye slid into a pleased curve, and with backward wave of his uninjured hand, he started away again. The brunette watched his black and red cloak ripple in the night breeze and she'd blinked again. Was that mud all over him?

The bathhouse had been blessedly empty--no one to ask how the hell he'd managed to get himself drenched in blood. When was the last time he'd had a long enough break to enjoy a hot bath? He even had enough time to wash the cloak clean, and tear up one of the towels to bandage his hand. Next hit, he'd remember this and use the door. Outside again, blond hair dripping onto his clean undershirt, the Iwa artist contemplated leaving town to meet up with Sasori. Any thoughts along that line were cut short however, when a party of men, whispers of bloodshed slitting the warm night silence, hurried past.

"Search the woods. He'll have fled by now!" The hushed order almost made Deidara giggle. Here he was, three feet away... Shaking his head, sending dark water droplets cascading onto the dusty sepia road, the pale boy strolled silently away. Rather than chancing the return to his companion, he wandered into the nearest inn--a quaint, homely sort of place. The clerk was in tears, flustered and paying little attention to her surroundings.

"What's the matter neechan, un?" He really should have kept his mouth shut, spoke as little to them as possible, not bring on anymore trouble... But when had he avoided trouble?

"There's been a murder!" She threw up her hands in frustration, as if he ought to know already what had occurred. "The killer got away! What if he comes to bother my tenants? What if he tries to hide here!" Deidara schooled his face into a sympathetic smile.

"Don't worry neechan un, I'm a ninja! If you let me stay here tonight, I'll protect you, un!" She blinked at his warm smile and, reaching out with a shaky hand, gave him the innkeeping clipboard.

"Your name there. You can pay for the room in morning." He took the pink pen and signed lightly on the line, in a delicate, slanting handwriting that was not his own. Name: Umai Uso.(2) He grinned again pleasantly as he returned the paper to her. She tried to share in his confidence, and turned the heavy brass key over with a shuddering smile of her own. "It's just down the way."

He was up before the sun, grudgingly--he'd hardly slept at all, and he'd really needed rest too! He could feel the Chakra finally, but it was a weak, faraway feeling. He wouldn't be flying for a week, at least. Silently, he left his yellow froggy coin purse on the front desk. It was probably double what he'd need to pay, but the innkeep surely wouldn't mind.

The sun rose red behind him, staining the still drying Akatsuki clouds on his back a deeper crimson. His bangs fell awkwardly in his eyes, not used to being free from the headband that held them in place. Brushing them aside, he positioned the standard Akatsuki straw hat on top of his head, enjoying the tin tinkle of the miniature bells. They played a sleepy melody in tune with his shoeless step. Rei was going to be angry about having to replace the sandals... He made it nearly to the edge of the village before fatigue caught up with him and a wooden bench, half enclosed in the low branches of a plum tree, called him to rest.

The assassination had been a messy one. Sasori was going to scold him for it when he got back, of course. He knew exactly what the Suna ninja would say--

"You're in my spot." In my spot? Deidara blinked down at the source of his interrupted thoughts: a small blue-eyed girl. "You're in my spot." She repeated, undaunted, voice hard and strange coming from such a thin body.

"Un? Sumimasen."(3) He scooted along the bench, making room for her slide up beside him. She stared down into her tan hands, and he spotted for the first time the Konoha hitai-ate tied around her arm. The silence wore on him, and he was about to open his mouth to ask something -anything- when she cut him off.

"My mother is dead." The words were plain, clipped, half silent. He knew the tone by heart: she knew they would never meet again; she knew that she needed to speak, and that he could take her words away with him. It would be like they had never been spoken. This small girl had entered into a covenant with a stranger. "My mother is dead. I can't grieve for her." He said nothing, she didn't want him to. "Ninja's rule twenty-five. A ninja must never show emotion. Someone killed her, for what?" For what? "Mommy..." Her voice hitched in her throat, forcing its way free even as she crushed it down. MOMMY!

He stood, cloak rippling delicately, and turned toward her. With his towel wrapped hand, he pulled the hat off his blond head, subconsciously leaning in to catch the tinkle of the bells. He knelt down in front of her, bringing himself to her eye level.

"Here." A flurry of tin melody, he sat the Akatsuki headgear on top of her dark mane. The bells stilled again, the edge hung low, the white cloth strips fell over her tiny form, hiding her face from view. A soft, sad smile lit his cerulean eyes, and as he turned to leave the town, he brushed the plum branches aside and whispered,
"Now no one will see you cry."

Author's Notes: Geeze... This is was more like a macro-micro fic... I had to split it up, but I don't think that hurt too much... I liked having the last line be "MOMMY!" Hmm... I hope you guys liked this one, 'cause I did! (At least I like it more than the other ones T.T ) So, Infiltration was finally finished and up at 12:10 AM. Yay. Late nights.

Lookie, Deidara speaks Japanese! (OMG! Gasp.)
(1) - Chotto neechan: Wait sister! "Neechan" is a friendly (genki) way to call a young woman you don't know. Don't try this in Japan--you have to be a cute young boy to get it to work.
(2) - Umai Uso: The alias I gave Deidara here translates literally to "Clever Lie".
(3) - Sumimasen: Forgive me, Excuse me.

To Rikou Suiyou: Yes, we do need to catch up! I'm soo glad you're liking this fic. Deidara is hard to write, because he's such a new character... Boy needs more air time! But I love him so much already. He's so... pretty!
To Ziz: You hit the nail on the head! He is such a dual-sided character. Barely in the story and he's already beat out Itachi as my favorite... (But don't tell Uchiha-san that...) I'm really glad you've enjoyed my writing, and I hope you liked this one too!

Reviews: love!