Authors Note: Here is the second chapter of To Take Desperate Measures! Enjoy!
Deidara collapsed on the grass, exhausted.
"That was some walk, un," Deidara said. He sat up, using one hand to shield his eyes from the early morning sun.
Sasori slowly sat down, wincing. His wooden joints cracked.
Deidara glanced at Sasori, the breeze blowing through his long, blond hair.
"Do we have a plan, un?" he asked. "Or are we just going to wing it?"
Sasori ignored him, looking down at the village. Located a couple of miles away from the Akatsuki hideout, the village of Touzoku held a wealth of knowledge. It was the perfect place to extract the highly-coveted information that the leader required.
Many noblemen resided here, as well as petty lawbreakers and vagabonds. However, what the little village had was an excess of stolen information. The rich inhabitants were actually highly-trained criminals, secretly running a grand black market scheme. Before turning to a life of thievery, they had been highly-classed ninja. But now, they used their stealth and skill to steal.
These men would intercept shipments of goods that were headed for major villages, then plunder just enough commodities to go unnoticed. Touzoku housed an unbelievable collection of wares. The merchants had it all: from forbidden scrolls to expensive towels, from exploding notes to stolen recipe books. This small village, which was lead by seemingly law-abiding noblemen, was never suspected of wrongdoing.
Their schemes benefited them quite well, as the Akatsuki itself had invested quite a chunk of money on the village's stolen goods. It was quite profitable for the black market merchants. During the day, they would bathe in their illegally-purchased luxury, building a façade that was never questioned. At night, these same people would sneak out in to the darkness and thieve.
The inhabitants of Touzoku were varied, coming from a wide variety of villages. Each of the inhabitants possessed a special ability; working together, they used their skills to accomplish their shared goal. There were people specializing in hundreds of different fields, from assassination to forging artwork.
Sasori was sure that at least one of them specialized in piercing care.
"Deidara," Sasori said suddenly, in his gruff low voice, "we must scour this village. We must ask every single inhabitant for information."
Sasori's eyes scanned the village.
"Take off your cloak," Sasori said suddenly.
Deidara's eyes went wide.
Sasori rolled his eyes. "Not for that, you idiot. They cannot know that we're from Akatsuki," Sasori said slowly. "We owe them quite a sum after the leader convinced them to illegally get us more TV channels."
"Piggybacking on to some daimyo's cable signal can be so expensive, un," Deidara said.
"We have to hide our cloaks," Sasori said. "I don't think they'll recognize us without them."
Deidara and Sasori began taking off their large, dark cloaks, which were emblazoned with the signature red clouds of the Akatsuki. Deidara folded his cloak neatly. He walked over to a small cluster of bushes. Squatting down, he tucked the clothing beneath the foliage.
Deidara stood up and looked around for Sasori.
"Sasori no danna! Where are you, un? I can put your cloak—" Deidara caught sight of Sasori and gawked at him in shock.
"What is it, Deidara?" Sasori said impatiently. "We have to get going! We can't waste time here."
"You can't walk around wearing Hiruko!" Deidara shouted. "It's unnatural, un!"
"Well, I don't want to take it off," Sasori said stubbornly. "It's comfy in here."
Deidara looked at him, his head tilted to the side. Now that he thought of it, he had never actually seen Sasori without his puppet body.
"Sasori," Deidara began slowly, "I respect you and your…puppet fetish. But you have to take off the puppet, un. We'll stand out too much—"
Sasori quickly backed away, his puppet tail dragging on the ground. "No!" he said stubbornly. "Hiruko goes wherever I go!" He turned his back to Deidara, muttering to himself.
Deidara tried reasoning with his fellow artist. He tried mustering up a soothing voice. "Sasori no danna, please…"
"No! I'm never taking it off!" Sasori clutched at his body. "NEVER!"
Deidara lost it.
"TAKE IT OFF! TAKE IT OFF RIGHT NOW!"
"TAKE IT OFF!"
In the village below, a certain man with long white hair glanced up at the hill, which stood proudly in the distance. He scratched his head. Must be those crazy kids with their strip poker games, he thought to himself. Those crazy kids always played strip poker on Tuesdays.
Jiraiya shrugged to himself, then went back to work. He always came to this village to work on his books. He found the dusty atmosphere somewhat pleasing. It was a nice change from that loud-mouthed, blond kyuubi kid. Right now, he was working on a particular little beauty called "Icha Icha Paradise: The Night of the Horizontal Mambo."
The shouting persisted, rising into a sweeping crescendo. The white-haired man could hear screaming and the sound of ripping cloth. It sounded like it was getting intense.
He tried to ignore it, focusing his concentration on the task before him. Jiraiya glanced at the shuffled pages of manuscript and readied his pen over a blank piece of paper.
"I'LL RIP IT OFF WITH MY BARE HANDS!"
The man exhaled noisily. He gazed at the grassy hill, looming over him. He could barely make out two shadowy shapes that seemed to be wrestling with each other.
Furtively, the man glanced around.
"Screw this," he said loudly, "I want me some strip poker!"
He threw down the sheaf of papers and quickly strode out of the rented hut, leaving the door swinging wide open.
Twenty minutes later later and several arguments later, Sasori and Deidara were sauntering through the streets of Touzoku, dressed in commoner's clothes. Sasori, who had had to be wrestled away from his favorite battle puppet, was sulkily marching in front of Deidara. Deidara glanced at Sasori. True, Sasori himself was a human puppet, but he blended in a heck of a lot better. He did look unnaturally young, though.
"So we'll have to ask for the piercing specialist, eh, Sasori no danna?" Deidara asked. "Do you know where we should start looking, un?"
Sasori turned his head and stared back at him, eyes full of ice. He looked like a sullen, homicidal child.
Deidara sighed.
"I'm sorry, Sasori no danna!" he insisted. "But it's not like you can walk around wearing—aw, forget it, un."
They both were silent. Suddenly, Sasori began to speak.
"We'll start at the east side of Touzoku, then work our way westward. The west side is where the 'noblemen' reside," said Sasori. "They are more highly trained and knowledgeable, but it is more dangerous to deal with them. There is a higher risk that they will recognize us. That is why we must try scouring the east side first, and move in to the noblemen's area only if necessary."
"That's a good plan, Sasori no danna," Deidara said, relieved that he was on speaking terms with his artist superior.
"Of course it is," Sasori said. All of a sudden, a group of elderly women spotted him. In a flash, they had surrounded him, pinching his cheeks and ruffling his hair.
"He is SO cute!"
"He's adorable!"
"Oh…oh god."
It was hot and muggy. East Touzoku had dirt roads, which would belch low clouds of dust as the villagers carried about their daily regime. Deidara and Sasori had been searching for information for hours, their bodies sore and throats parched. When questioned about a specialist in body piercings, all of the villagers would turn pale and look away, shaking their heads.
"Sasori no danna," Deidara said, wiping the sweat from his brow, "We've searched most of East Toukozu. Should we head to the noblemen's quarters and search there?"
Sasori grunted, looking into the sky.
"It's almost three o'clock," he said hoarsely. "I suppose we should move to West Touzoku now."
The pair trudged through the streets, coughing as the dust rose in grimy sheets above the ground.
"I have a feeling that these villagers are holding back information," Sasori said, his eyes narrowed. "They know an artisan skilled in body piercings, but will not tell us."
"So how do we get them to give us the information, un?" Deidara asked. The mouths on his palms licked their dry lips.
Sasori suddenly stopped walking, looking in to the distance. He spotted a certain building. Slowly, a slight smile tugged at his lips.
"We get them drunk."
"Oh god, it hurts!"
"Hold still."
The Akatsuki leader lay on a couch, grimacing. Nearly all of his piercings were infected; they were all puffy and red. His face vaguely resembled a balloon. The blue haired Akatsuki member was trying to clean his piercings with a washcloth.
"Next time," she said, wringing out the cloth, "don't try piercing your face with a nail gun."
"It was the most convenient item to do the job!" the leader protested. He found it somewhat hard to speak, as his lips were badly swollen.
"What possessed you to get eighteen piercings, Pein?" Konan asked.
"I've told you my reasons," the leader said stubbornly. "I find my decision to be quite logical."
The blue-haired woman set down the washcloth. "I think you're going to have to take them out. The infection's getting worse—"
"No!" the leader declared. "I must preserve my image. I've endured so much, sacrificed so much…it's too late to turn back now! Develop a new piercing-care jutsu if you have to!"
"All right," Konan said in defeat. "But I'm afraid I don't know much about this kind of thing."
"Who does, really?" the leader sighed.
"Here's the tavern. I'm going in to ask for information. Deidara, stay out here and ask any passerby you see."
"Hn."
Deidara watched Sasori stomp into the tavern, flinging the door open.
Deidara smirked. Sasori had the appearance of a child, or a young teenager. No way in hell would any of the patrons answer to him.
Deidara spotted a woman with bright orange hair, wearing a hideous lime green feather boa. She was pacing back and forth, arms crossed. Her many earrings glinted in the sun.
She probably knows who the piercing specialist is, un, Deidara thought.
Deidara approached her, as she turned her back to him. He gingerly tapped her shoulder, the mouth on his palm gagging as it choked on the feathers of the woman's boa.
"Excuse me…" Deidara said awkwardly. The woman's hair was obscenely bright, reflecting the intense sunlight back in to his face. He held up a hand to shield his eyes.
The woman spun around, her hawkish face contorted in a displeased frown.
"Mai! There you are, you stupid girl," the woman barked, her hands planted on her hips. "Why aren't you at the pageant? I've been looking for you all day."
Deidara blinked.
"Wh-what?!" he asked incredulously.
"The beauty pageant!" the woman said impatiently. She grabbed Deidara by the wrist and began pulling him down the street. "Come on. You have to get ready. It's starting soon." The woman glared at Deidara angrily. "You, young lady, have been making us all wait!"
"But I'm not a—" Suddenly, the woman's feather boa slapped Deidara in the face. He began to choke on the feathers and was not able to finish his protest.
Deidara was dragged down the street, a trail of dust billowing behind him.
Sasori burst in to a small tavern. Dozens of angry eyes turned towards him.
"You can't be in here, little boy," a woman with heavy makeup purred, gripping a container half-full of sake. She was perched on top of a large table.
Sasori was tired and irritated. He had gotten his favorite puppet taken away from him. He had walked in the scorching heat all day. He had been pinched and prodded, fawned over countless times. He had been chased by a truant officer who was convinced that he was skipping school. This was the final straw.
"Oh, shut up, skank. I'm just as old as all of you," he snapped. The patrons looked at him in shock. Sasori smirked grimly.
"What did you just call me?" the indecently dressed woman asked, jutting out her lower lip.
Sasori glared at her.
"If you had a shred of intelligence, you would do as I asked. So please, unless you want to die a horrible, painful death, sit down and shut your mouth. I'm on a tight schedule here, woman."
The woman blinked. Was this small, redheaded child threatening her? She put a hand up to her temple. She probably had too much to drink.
"Does anyone know of a specialist in body piercings?" Sasori shouted.
The patrons stared at him blankly, their faces growing pale.
Silence.
Then…
A large burly man stood up from his table. Weaving slightly, the man picked up a large bottle of sake and took a long swig. Setting it down, he eyed Sasori with glassy eyes. He was obviously drunk.
"I'm Takahiro. I know everything about everything around here," the man said, his speech slurred.
"So what do you know?" Sasori asked impatiently.
"Well," Takahiro began, in a brusque, mysterious voice, "there's a woman by the name of—"
"Noooo!" a tall, thin man came flying out of nowhere. Time seemed to move in slow motion, as the lanky man dove for Takahiro's table, his long legs trailing behind him. His face contorted into an array of grotesque facial expressions as he sailed through the air. With a large crash, he landed on the table, breaking it into a thousand splinters of wood. He lay moaning on the floor, his body sprawled out among the wreckage.
"Takahiro! You…can't…tell him…the…secret…" he croaked hoarsely. Then he fell unconscious. Takahiro ignored him, fetching his sake bottle from the floor. He cleared his throat and continued.
"—Yui. West Touzoku. In fact, she's the person who did my piercings…" The man began to lift up his shirt, but Sasori quickly stopped him.
"That's okay. Thank you," Sasori said over his shoulder, as he began to leave.
"Does anyone want to see my piercings?" the man called out. He swayed unsteadily.
"You idiot!" the inappropriate woman hissed. "You told that kid the source of this town's most prized secret!" She threw her empty glass sake bottle at him. It crashed against his head, cracking in to a bouquet of glittering glass shards.
Takahiro turned and looked blankly at the woman. "Shut up, skank," he said, lifting the bottle to take another sip.
Seething, the woman screamed, "I am not a skank!"
A lone man with flowing white hair stood atop of the grassy hill overlooking Touzoku. Scratching his head, he looked around.
"Where the hell is the strip poker?" he muttered, looking around.
Sasori exited the tavern, feeling rather proud of himself. Soon, he and Deidara could leave this unsightly village and head back to the hideout, where they would be rewarded. Maybe the leader would even buy them tickets to the art fair, or kidnap an artist for them to question…
Shaking his head from his pleasant reverie, Sasori looked around.
"Deidara?"
He could not see his blond partner anywhere.
"Deidara?"
Author's Note: Hope you liked it! Reviews would be very appreciated!