Deidara's Story: Clay Hearts Molded
Chapter 12: Deidara Vs. Lang
Deko smiled as he feinted once more, slashing down and through a man's spear, listening to it crack and splinter and feeling the sensation course through his forearms, cutting the man down on the backstroke, listening to him scream with agony before crumpling in a pile on the ground, a crimson heap. The shinobi back-stepped quickly, hopping with grace and agility as a devastating rain of blows from the Lieutenant's weapon cleaved the air. He ducked under a swing, back flipping lightly at a thrust.
The mustached-man grit his teeth, his arm flying at an alarmingly fast rate. "Stay still, won't you? It's hard to kill something that's hopping around!" He slashed vertically, following it up with a side-slash as Deko bounced to the right to avoid it. Deko grunted, feeling the tip of the sword carve a small slice into his abdomen. Blood splattered and left a red mark against the cold steel.
Deko rolled, stopping and throwing his hands out. A rain of senbon flew forth, causing the Lieutenant to stop his attack and begin a rapid defense of deflection and dodging. As the senbon stopped flying, the Lieutenant smiled, his lips curling in a mocking display as his sword swished at his side. "Did it hurt when my sword bit into you?"
Deko hopped to his feet with a flip, shrugging. "Not as much as this will." He did a flip backwards, his hands coming to his chest. "Katsu!"
Unbeknownst to the Lieutenant, each of the senbon that were buried in the ground were wrapped in an exploding note, and by deflecting them into the dirt, he had effectively created a trap of exploding doom. As the notes began to glow, the man gasped, gathering a bit of chakra and hopping into the air. Below him, the ground erupted into chaos as the notes exploded, sending shrapnel flying in all directions. Suddenly from above, a shadow loomed, and he had just enough time for a surprised grunt as Deko's foot collided with his head, sending the Lieutenant tumbling to the ground.
Landing lightly on his feet, Deko stood, patting himself down and smiling. "Huh. Got you with that old trick? Easy enough." He lightly tapped the man on the head with his foot, checking to be sure that he was out. Satisfied, he sighed, holding a hand to his side and feeling the sickly, sticky sensation of fresh blood boiling from the wound.
Deko turned his attention to the rest of the battle, assessing the situation. The Red Hand were slowly being fought back. The remainders of Lord Setama's men were making a stand, though if many were alive at the end of everything, it would be a miracle. Eesama was making quick work of a band of Red Hand, her lithe, cat-like body bounding in and out, dodging weapons and minor jutsu. Every once in a while, her paw would lash out, and another rebel would fall in a spray of crimson, to join his fellows already littering the ground and attracting flies.
Deko glanced to his right, trying to figure out where Hiran would be, when a sword suddenly appeared out of the right side of his chest. Intense, flaming pain threatened to consume him in a mere moment, and his lifeblood tumbled out of him like a waterfall. Deko stumbled, staggering forward before hitting his knees. Behind him, the Lieutenant sneered, twisting the sword in a jerky motion. "Shinobi scum! Learn when to finish your opponent off before they finish you off." He twisted again, and Deko cried out in pain, feeling the sharp metal against his ribcage. A trickle of blood erupted from the side of his mouth, and he coughed in a sudden fit. The mustached Lieutenant bent down, so that his mouth was near Deko's ear. "Now Shinobi…die!"
"YOU FIRST!" Deko cried. His right arm suddenly dislodged, falling off completely. The shinobi medics had amputated everything from the shoulder down, fearing against infection. For three days he had sat in the hospital, staring out the window, asking himself if he would ever be the shinobi that he wanted to be. Then, another shinobi had entered his life. He was the trainer and mentor of a blond shinobi named Deidara. After a quick lesson on what could have been a worse wound, the man had given him the most important and symbolic thing he had ever received. A fake hand, crafted from strong bamboo. The joints were oiled and worked beautifully. He held it reverently, and blinked in awe. He stroked down each finger, feeling it respond. Suddenly, four needles erupted from the fingers, and before he could blink, the shinobi teacher swatted the hand from his grip as the senbon shot into the wall.
"Look underneath the underneath," the man had said.
He knew he had but a few moments left. With the removal of his arm came hope. Hope in the form of a kunai. Using his last strength, Deko shot out with his left leg, catching the lieutenant with his weapon just below his chin. Blood dripped from the wound as he stuttered, falling onto his knee. He attempted to speak, but couldn't find the air. A crimson fountain erupted from his neck, his jugular vein exposed and pumping hot sick across his chest. Almost like in a movie, the lieutenant drifted to the ground, the pupils of his eyes glossing over.
Deko smiled, his own body slumping to the ground. The Iwa shinobi stared across at his fallen enemy as his chest gurgled and bile spewed from his mouth. Then, all was inky blackness, and he slipped into unconsciousness.
Deidara raced through the manor at top-speed, checking each room as he went. Once in a while, a soldier would pop up to challenge him, swinging a sword or spear in his direction. In the mood he was in, none of them had fared very well. Not to mention the cook, who had thrown three cleavers, a butcher knife, and a whetstone at him before fleeing in terror with a homing pigeon hot on his heels.
Running to the end of a corridor, Deidara glared around at the paintings and torches lining the wall. The light given off danced merrily in a jig, the figures in the paintings seemingly dancing in the iridescence. The blond shot down another corridor, stopping to grab a torch from the wall as a black thickness developed the light. "Someone must have come this way and extinguished the torches, un?" Deidara mused to himself.
Another corridor slanted off to the right, and he took it. His footsteps echoed down the corridors as he shot down the endless darkness. If Setama had taken Shizune this way, she must have been extremely frightened. The shinobi grit his teeth, willing his tired feet on harder, further. He had to reach Shizune.
It seemed an eternity, but suddenly the corridor ended. He didn't see it end exactly. The gloom in front of him was perpetual, sucking the light from his torch like water from a sink after the plug is pulled. He could feel the emptiness of a larger space. In that emptiness…a presence, sinister, powerful and lithe like a swooping falcon.
Deidara gasped, hitting the ground and rolling a few feet to the right. Behind him, he heard something slam gracefully into the rock and concrete. A woman's form. Sinister and lethal, sanguine and elongate. A terror in a compact shell.
A small titter began to filter from it's mouth, and slowly, the woman put face to laugh. She was beautiful, and Deidara didn't have a doubt that more than one man had succumbed to her beauty and felt the sting of her kunai in his heart.
Slowly, she stood, her fingers caressing her thigh. "Hello…shee-no-bee."
Deidara smiled. "'Ello."
"So…" she said, her other hand going to her stomach, working its way along her navel and playing with her frame. "You moost bee thee sheenobee we have heard oof, yeese?"
The Iwa nin smiled back, standing to his full height and stretching slightly. "Depends on what you've heard, un? Probably the same one."
"Good," she said. With a flourish, she bowed. "My name ees Lang. I am froom the Land of Snow, and…"
"No you're not, un."
The woman started slightly, taken aback by Deidara's non-plussed attitude. How dare he just dismiss her lineage from the great Snow Country?! "How dare you, you impudent little…"
"You're not tan enough to be from the Snow, Ms. Lang," Deidara stated, again cutting her off. "The Snow Country is covered by a layer of snow for about 11 months of the year, Summer included. The rays of the sun bounce off that snow, creating an effect like a tanning bed, un." He smiled as he cast his light forward, her complexion more visible. "You have fair skin, probably covered by a hood your entire life. Sad really, un. You would look much better with all of your clothes off…"
"Scum!" Her hand shot from behind her waist, and kunai zipped through the still blackness. Deidara barely managed to avoid being cut down, dodging around the first and twisting around the second. As he came back up, a fist smashed into his face, catapulting him backwards into a concrete barrier and forcing the wind from his lungs. A blur whisked by, grabbing his head from behind. The sheer power of the arm behind the hand was more surprising than what the hand actually did, which was smash his face into the ground.
Deidara grunted, his body in fits of pain. He hadn't recovered from the blast on the road completely, and he really wasn't in the mood for an all-out fight, especially with a hot bitch that lied about where she was from.
The woman hopped to the right, sizing the blond up as he struggled shakily to his feet, wiping his mouth on his sleeve and spitting a stream of blood onto the rocky floor. "Hn. Did you like the cold rock against your face, shinobi? Maybe next time you'll think twice before you say something about someone else's lineage…"
"You don't have an accent, un?" Deidara's comment apparently threw the woman for a loop. The fury on her face was impressive for a creature as beautiful as her.
A sound issued forth in the dank, cavernous room. A sound like metal sliding from a scabbard. Her hands suddenly grew a foot, her fingers curved and lethal. Slowly, she put them to her mouth, licking the wicked looking blade and drawing blood, which she swallowed with a sigh. "I haven't taken these out for a while. You must be a very good lover…"
Deidara smiled. "Is that an invitation?"
The chuckle from her mouth didn't disguise the lethality of her words. "In this matter, it will be I that is inside of you. I wish to feel your innards. I want to watch you scream and beg as I claw out your heart! Your entrails and organs will seep upon the ground, and you will languish in your own blood as I cleave you piece by piece!"
The blond continued to smile casually, taking a kunai from his bag and sticking his hand into the pouch on his right. He felt it lap up a small chunk of clay, its tongue working it into a lumpy mess and adding chakra into it. Staring straight at his enemy, Deidara nodded. "Foreplay is always more fun when someone bleeds."
"Let's find out!" With an animalistic roar, Lang shot across the small space between them, and Deidara met her in the middle, expertly bringing his kunai up and around, blocking her hand blades. Together, they pulsed back and forth, each seeking an opening, neither giving any space. One of them would die in that hole in the ground.
Deidara hoped it wouldn't be him.
Eesama licked a paw, cleaning the blood off as she stood on the body of another Red Hand soldier. Three of them were incapacitated on the ground. She had taken them by surprise and had simply bowled them over. For soldiers bent on world domination or whatever they were planning, they weren't well trained. Hardly worrisome, more like mindless rabble with knives and some low level jutsu's.
Her form started to materialize, and as a woman once more, she stepped away from her carnage, to survey the scene. In the corner, three or four Red Hand were still fighting with a couple of guards, going back and forth. Meh, let them take care of their own battle. Across the courtyard, dead soldiers and Red Hand thugs mixed with the bodies of nobility. The killing was all encompassing. At least two hundred bodies lay here, and there were more coming, though the fighting was coming to a lull now. Another few minutes of taking out Red Hand idiots and it would be over completely.
She looked around, noting Hiran in the corner busy tying up a couple of Red Hand who had thought they could hurt the brute. It was Hiran's special ability. He took damage and showed wounds, but he felt no pain and it didn't hinder his power. He never got tired, and he never backed down, as the shinobi who fought him now knew.
Eesama smiled. Looks like it was just about over for them now, but where on earth was Deko?
She stepped into the carnage once more, her eyes watchful but intent on finding the man that had long ago stolen her heart. She hadn't known Deko long, but something about him had drawn her in, like a moth to a flame. He was a leader, a mentor, and he had saved her life. Five years ago, when she was just about twenty and he was only sixteen, he had fallen for her as well. She would go out on missions, and though she never told anyone, she could sense that he had followed her on many. It was puppy love, she reasoned. One day, he would grow up, and find himself a girl. Then she would get on with her life. She never bothered to tell him off.
One mission changed all that, however. Her team was surrounded by enemy shinobi of the Rice. A rogue shinobi by the name of Orochimaru had set up a secret laboratory in the Land of Stone, and her team was to find it and keep surveillance. However, the man had backup and followers. Some twenty shinobi had them dead to rights, and after a short chase in which one of her five-man cell was killed, the other four were backed against a wall of rock. The shinobi in front of them had given them a choice. Join or die.
One of her team said he would join the group, the other three stood their ground. One of that group was Hiran, her other team member. He stood by her as well, waiting for the end as their team mate walked calmly to the other side. As soon as his foot crossed an imaginary line, he was cut down by a single blast from an exploding note, which had been placed when no one was watching and triggered when he stepped blindly into it.
The explosion, along with the dust cloud that followed, provided cover for a small form to jump down from the cliffs above, some hundred feet above. It landed in front of the three shinobi from Iwa, and stood. A boy, lithe, tough looking. His arms came up, and she heard a distinct noise, like air exploding from a ball that is punctured in a swift movement. Screams issued from the other side of the dust cloud, screams of anger and frustration.
In the ensuing battle, the four Iwa shinobi had fought bravely. Her third team member was killed when three of the Sound shinobi took him by surprise, cutting him down savagely. Between Hiran, Eesama and Deko, they managed to kill another six nin, five dead and most wounded after Deko's initial attack. Because of the furious onslaught, the Sound nin backed off a bit, giving enough time for another squad of Iwa nin to get there. She had literally laughed as the nine remaining shinobi of the Sound were taken unawares and cut to ribbons before her eyes. Jutsu's erupted around her as Hiran and Deko joined the fight for one last attack, ending the struggle.
After the battle, the orders were changed, and a contingent of shinobi were dispatched to destroy what was obviously an underground bunker and training facility, as well as housing some of Orochimaru's more unsavory pets and experiments.
Back at Iwa, Eesama visited Deko in the hospital, as he had sustained more damage than either her or Hiran in the course of the battle. She spent hours at his bedside, refusing missions so that she could be close to the boy…to the man who had saved her and Hiran from certain death. From then on, the two were always together, though never officially. As far as Eesama was concerned, a shinobi had no ability to be happy with a family when every day could be their last. As far as Deko went, he believed that anyone could become what they dreamed, and he never stopped dreaming that one day they could settle down and be together.
For now, she would settle for just a glimpse of the man. She slipped slightly on the moist, red battlefield, sighing. Her boots were going to need some serious cleaning after this whole thing was over. She went back to her vigil. Where on earth was that man?
A hand grabbed her from behind, whipping her backwards. She recognized Hiran's muscular arms, and she flipped lightly onto her feet. "Hiran, what in the devil…"
Another form slammed into the earth, sending Hiran several feet down. The man had barely saved her from getting pummeled into the ground before he had been put in her place. Standing above the crater he had just made, the Red Hand soldier stood, cracking his neck. The earth shook as Hiran burst from the ground, landing heavily on feet that were made of solid steel. Coldly, he growled at the newcomer. "Hey, who're you?"
The large man smiled, gritting his teeth. "Name's Yazamaori LaoFang. My friends call me Lao. You may call me Fang."
Hiran grunted, wiping blood from his bleeding lip in disdain. "Should call you girly-man, way you punch…"
LaoFang cracked his fingers, smiling. "This should be good…"
Deidara gasped as Lang's claw bit into his side again. She smiled, hopping backwards to get some air as the man stumbled away, holding his bleeding stomach and gulping in air. He had only gotten two good hits off. This woman was like a shadow. She would attack and then feint, move and then thrust. It was like trying to hit a fly with a pencil after drinking four shots and five beers after three days of working on a boat in the middle of the ocean during a storm. In a short word, impossible!
Unfortunately, his attacks were ineffective against this opponent. Three times he had managed to put an exploding artwork in front of her. Not more than a few inches from her, in fact. Each time, she managed to escape the blast. She was expelling the energy from the blast and drawing it in. Such a powerful opponent as she was, it would take all his cunning and skill to find a way past her defenses.
"What's the matter, shinobi? Getting tired?" Lang said with a smile, catching her breath and feeling her bruised ribs where he had managed to connect with a fist.
Deidara smiled right back, willing himself on. "Not even close, bitch. I still got a few tricks up my sleeves."
His right hand lunged out, and a small clay bird rocketed forward, buzzing with killing intent. Lang simply side-stepped, her hair whipping about as she missed the bird by a country mile, and she watched as it bounced off the wall, hitting the ground and kicking it's useless, stubby legs wildly. Turning, she watched another bird fly at her, and she hopped sideways and forward, bringing her three steps closer to the blond as the bird hit the wall and stuck like a booger on a mirror. "Your birds are getting sloppy, boy. They don't even explode anymore."
"Shut up!" More birds flew, and she began a deadly game of cat and mouse, dodging and ducking, dipping and diving. The birds weren't more than flying nuisance's. Each time he cast one out, she would dodge, get closer. Soon, she'd be in range, and he would feel the bite of her claws again.
Another bird, another dodge. This time, she didn't bother getting a foot or two closer. She hit the ground after a flip, launching herself directly at him and slamming him bodily into the ground. The blond grunted as Lang's full weight landed on his damaged body. Smiling triumphantly, the brunette beauty dipped her head down. "Don't bother to struggle, shinobi. You've lost plenty of blood, and I have so many wrestling tricks up my sleeve that you won't be able to move."
Deidara didn't take her word for it. He struggled bravely against her lithe frame. He couldn't imagine a small body like hers would be able to pin him down. Maybe he was tired, or maybe he had lost enough blood that he couldn't move. In any case, he was stuck. Suddenly, the woman's mouth shot down, latching onto his. Her tongue probed his mouth, but he couldn't back away as his head was stopped by the stone floor.
Though he couldn't believe it, he suddenly felt relaxed. Sated, almost. It was almost as though this woman's kiss made his troubles go away. His pain suddenly lessened. He felt more at ease. He even started to return the kiss, his tongue probing at hers. Maybe she would do him first before cutting his throat. It was the least she could do, right?
His hands began to lap wildly at his fingers, as if trying to get his attention. He almost snapped to attention with the thought he just had. With as much energy as he could muster, he shut his mouth closed, his teeth coming dangerously close to cutting her tongue off as she pulled out and sat back, watching him. She licked her lips, her eyes lighting up. "You taste good. Very good…"
"What the hell are you doing to me, you bitch!?" He yelled, squirming to get free.
She smiled, her legs constricting tighter. "I have a special ability of my own, shinobi. I can steal the essence of others. Make it my own." Her tongue probed her teeth, and she sighed. "You are delicious, shinobi!"
"Eat me!"
"Very well…" Her mouth dipped down, and though she didn't lock lips with him, he could feel her breathe against his lips. She began to suck in air, as though through a straw. As though cold water was washing over him, he could feel his insides leaving him. His strength ebbed like the tide, and his thoughts began to blur. She was literally sucking out what he was. His soul, if he actually believed in that kind of stuff. He struggled against her, trying to cut off what she was doing, but to no avail. Slowly, little by little, she was stealing him, and there was nothing he could do about it.
Suddenly she stopped, and her face gazed at his. Her smile became dark and feral, as though the mouse were already in her mouth. "Shinobi…I have tasted you before…"
"Like hell you have, un!" Deidara yelled, still trying to wiggle free.
Lang smiled again, staring down at him with a predacious grin. "Yesssss…I have tasted you before. It was you! You were the one who impregnated the girl."
Deidara's movements stopped, and he blinked up at her. "Wh…what?"
"The girl. The brown haired girl that the foolish lord thought he would be marrying today. Your offspring was inside her. Your essence, half of you, half of her." Her chuckle deepened, darkening into a cloud of despair. "Yes…you slept with her, yes? You took away her girlhood." His body didn't move, and his eyes were cloudy with realization. Slowly, Lang stood up, backing away slowly.
"Where is my child?" Deidara asked, his voice barely a whisper.
Lang merely chuckled, her hands grasping at the air. "It is dead."
Her words hung in the grim chamber like a fog, like smoke threatening to choke the life from any who resided within. She didn't hear him breath. She didn't hear him move. She knew exactly where he was in the dimly lit chamber that was so far under the ground that no living thing should dare be there. Like a sword being unsheathed, the blades in her hands sprung forth with a shunk. Her smile turned feral, and Lang took a few silent steps forward. "It wasn't painful, I assure you. It was quick, easy. Like snuffing out a candle." Still no response. Lang had hoped for more spirit, but it was alright.
Her pace quickened, and she leaped into the air, turning a slow somersault. Stretching out her claws, she shot downward, extending her hands in front of her. "GOODBYE, SHINOBI!" She would soar down like a hawk, to pluck his heart from his chest. She could feel his lifeblood pouring out of him, like a crimson geyser that she could bathe in! It was beautiful!
Without warning, a pair of hands stretched out, grabbing hers between the claws and forcing her to stop as abruptly as a train-wreck. With a guttural yell, the blond strove upward, using Lang's forward momentum against her to raise himself off the ground, twirl her in the air, and fling her back upwards with the savage fury of a man possessed. She screamed in sudden panic as she felt herself rocket through the stillness, only to slam heavily into the roof of the cavernous room with a sickening thud. The wind was expelled from her lungs, and she couldn't scream again as she fell back to the bottom of the room. She found no reprieve on the rocky ground below, and her body felt jarred as she took stock of her wounds, sucking in copious amounts of air to ease the pain in her lungs.
Slowly, she worked her way to her feet, trying to feel out the shinobi that was supposed to be dead by now. She had never fought another opponent for so long, or who was so skilled. She stood in the center of the room, eying the darkness around her.
A sudden light flared at one end of the room, and she turned, her claws ready. She was hardly defeated yet, and she knew that she had more chakra than this blond shinobi who dared tell her that her proud heritage from the Snow was a fraud. True, it was, but he didn't need to point it out.
On the other end of the room, Deidara stood, torch flaring in one hand, his face a grimace of pain and hatred. Lang smiled, testing her weapons in her hand. "So…you're not dead yet? Very good, shin…"
"I'm curious," Deidara interrupted, and she blinked at him. "You're beautiful, deadly as a wasp, and yet you're with the Red Hand. Why is that?"
"I do things for money, shinobi. They pay me to kill their enemies, and I oblige," she said. She didn't know where this line of questioning was going, but it was giving her a chance to catch her breath before she ripped his heart out and ate it for tea.
"Money…" Deidara said slowly to himself. His grimace slowly turned into a frown, and he sighed. "Never for something like love?"
"Hn, what do I need with love? Money buys me many things." Lang stood non-chalant now, and she yawned. "Anything I need at all. Food, clothing, jewels, lovers. Money is the key!"
"It's not everything," Deidara said. He smiled, looking down at his hands. "Not…everything."
"Enough of this foolish talk!" Lang's hands slid in front of her, and she set her jaw. "Time to die, shinobi!"
"Indeed." His hands came forward, and in one hand-sign, he looked into the eyes of the woman who had so cruelly taken his child from the world of the living. "Katsu!"
The myriad creatures he had thrown at her, the dozens of clay creations littering the ground next to the walls, suddenly expanded. Eyes popped and bodies filled with forceful air. Lang noticed one beginning to expand, and it all hit her. He wasn't aiming for me. He was trying to miss! She didn't have time to yell. The room erupted in a cacophony of sound and destruction. The roof caved in from the blasts to its foundation, and before she could move from the spot, Lang was buried a hundred feet under the ground under tons and tons of rock and rubble.
Lang from the Red Hand was no more.
Half a mile down the passage, Shizune turned her head, hearing the sound of a massive explosion that rocked the ground underneath her feet. As the Lord Setama hurried her quicker, a lightness took hold on her heart, and she smiled to herself.
"Deidara…"
Next Time: Deidara is hot on Setama's trail, but his friends have their own fight to manage. LaoFang, the master of shield jutsu's. Eesama and Hiran face a tough and determined foe that won't back down, and, like Hiran, doesn't seem to mind pain.
Next Chapter: LaoFang's Revenge!