A/N: I need y'all to know that I definitely have a playlist for this fic. If I listen to anything else while I write, I become useless. I did post it on my profile because it's the vibe. Also, everyone favoriting and following, thank you. I am obsessed with you and it fills me with the needed validation. Two of you even favorited me as an AUTHOR, so I'm feeling pretty special rn. I am DEEPLY sorry for the late update. I have finals and homework, plus my job is moving locations so we've been rushing to get things done and packed up. I'm actually finishing this up before I go in later today to start unpacking at the new place.

It's not just writing when I write this, I'm googling whatever I need to know about Japan and also Naruto as I go. I'm tryna keep it realistic (for a fanfiction). There's obviously a margin for error but I don't want it to be so inaccurate it's unreadable. Also, my brother is a Naruto nerd so anytime I'm being gaslit by the internet I go ask him if I'm hallucinating remembering something and then he validates me.

***Also here's a definition for later in the chapter: Tsukumogami are various yōkai derived from manmade objects, such as kitchenware, tools and everyday accessories, that have become alive, either through possession by spirits or ghosts, or through constant use for at least 90 to 100 years. Tsukumogami of this last origin often appear as new, or otherwise pristine condition despite their age

Kyoko understood why Deidara had fiercely proclaimed that art was an experience. There was no way to describe his art and find it beautiful. His art was the kind of art that could only be experienced. If he had outright told her that he used clay bombs to make explosions because it was beautiful to him, she would have politely smiled and pretended he wasn't insane. Which, he was still insane. No sane person would think this up, but it was very… Deidara. She couldn't picture him patiently behind a canvas or at a pottery wheel, he was too unique, and his art reflected that. He was probably the most chaotic, alive person she had ever met, to a dangerous degree. With each bomb he sent Kisame's way he would let out a laugh of pure delight.

That was something she had never felt with her art. She had felt proud of herself, of her paintings and portraits, but none of it was alive quite like this was. She was proficient and her skill was technical, but it was lacking this passion. Deidara's art was nothing but passion. Each explosion was a flash of light, there and gone in an instant, leaving nothing but the scorched earth behind it.

Kisame, unsurprisingly, used the water from the lake and the large sword on his back to fight. His fighting style was maybe not as poetic as Deidara's was, but he was graceful in his own right. He seemed to enjoy the fight itself, the exertion and destruction of it all. If the look on Deidara's face was chaotic delight, then Kisame's was nothing short of sadistic pleasure.

The entire display was something from a movie, but there were no strings, no special effects. It was all real, happening in front of her with no stuntmen and computer-generated actions. It was beautiful, and it was horrifying. She thought at any point they might accidentally kill each other, but they only laughed as if it was all an elaborate game. She didn't let herself wonder whom they had killed using these techniques.

Throughout the demonstration, Itachi never quizzed her on the uses of chakra or the history he had instructed her to read. It was probably best; she was still irritated with him and had forgotten her notes anyway. She knew that he wouldn't, but she wished he would say something. Not an apology, she didn't need him to apologize and couldn't picture him saying it with any sincerity. Any apology would feel patronizing coming from him. The longer he went without saying something, the more time it gave her to regret what she had said. Why couldn't she have just stayed silent and ignored him as he did her? He had mildly offended her, and she had overreacted. She wished she had said nothing.

Finally, Deidara and Kisame decided they were done and Deidara was sauntering over, a smug look on his face. "What did you think, yeah?" For as sure of himself as he was trying to seem, his hands were twitching ever so slightly, was he nervous about what she thought?

She smiled gently at him, "It was beautiful Deidara."

"Really?"

"Really." She could feel the looks from Kisame and Itachi, watching the situation with a critical eye.

He narrowed his eye, "You're not just saying that?"

She shook her head, "It was beautiful, very you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He was so distrustful; couldn't he just take the compliment? Kisame's body tensed, and his hand twitched toward his sword but did not grab it.

"It was chaotic and passionate," she explained. Deidara grinned, finding her answer acceptable at last and the tension that was hanging over the group lifted. What would he have done if she had said the wrong thing? It was better not to wonder.

Kisame visibly relaxed, "Come on, let's go. I'm making dinner tonight."

The blonde reached into his pouch immediately, quickly constructing two birds, and with a quick hand sign they grew big enough to carry passengers. She had missed the process before, but after meeting Kisame and seeing them fight, she didn't have it in her to be shocked anymore. Deidara stood back, letting her climb on first, and whispered conspiratorially, "Kisame is a way better cook than that bastard."

Kyoko laughed and climbed on, digging her hands into the clay as she hauled herself up. When they were all on their respective birds, they began their ascent and soon they were soaring again. This time she didn't close her eyes as they ascended, and she saw Deidara's bangs move from his face. She had always thought maybe that was just the style preferred but underneath the bangs, she saw that he wore a metal scope.

"What?" Even with the sound of the wind, she could hear the irritation in his voice. He didn't like it when he felt she was staring at him.

She looked away quickly, staring out at the horizon, "I didn't realize that's why you wore your hair like that. Do you always wear that thing?"

His hand reached up to touch the scope and he scowled in the distance, "It's good for combat." It seemed like more than that, but she let it drop, she wasn't going to pry.

The ride was shorter this time around, they were flying with the wind instead of against it and they were back in no time. Her fingernails were filled with clay and even with her hair pulled back, she knew it was a mess, but it had been worth it.

"That was amazing," she smiled at Deidara. "Thank you."

He nodded enthusiastically, "It was fun, yeah."

Kyoko stayed close behind Deidara, trying to avoid being on the elevator with Itachi. She was feeling more self-conscious as time passed and the regret was eating at her. So, what if he hadn't wanted her to sit with him? What did it matter? He was supposed to train her, and she was still a captive here. It's not like had volunteered to be around her either, she was an inconvenience to him. Just because they weren't actively torturing her didn't change that. They weren't friends.

That was part of it, she realized. She wanted a friend. She was tired and alone, and she missed home desperately. He wanted nothing to do with her, she was an inconvenience he had never asked for. She missed Toshiro.

They rode the elevator in silence, which was a relief because she was feeling drained and Deidara didn't look much better off. As soon as they stepped off the elevator, they went their separate ways and she headed for the kitchen, determined to focus on cleaning up instead of Itachi and his moods. It would do her no good, he would behave however he decided to, and she would just try to live long enough to get home. That was the only thing that mattered. Getting home. Toshiro. Her parents. Her life.

The clay was etched in every line in her hands and under every fingernail, it was everywhere. How did Deidara deal with this part? The clay felt chalky as it dried, she couldn't stand the feel of it and scrubbed her hands to get it all off. As soon as it was gone, she sat in her usual place at the table and tried to tame her hair into something somewhat reasonable. The hair tie was getting tangled in her hair. She should have gone to the bathroom where there was a mirror, but she had wanted to study while she waited. Itachi still hadn't had her review yet, but it was bound to happen sometime, and she was already behind.

The tie was tugging at her scalp, and pulling it was not helping. Maybe she could still go to the bathroom? But she didn't even have a real hairbrush, just a comb Konan had given her with the other toiletries. Maybe she could cut it? But she didn't have scissors and she would have to ask, and she couldn't do that for the same reason she couldn't ask for new clothes. She would look dumber than they already thought she was, it was frivolous and unnecessary. She could almost hear Itachi now, except not really because he probably wouldn't even respond if she asked. He really did make this so difficult, and for no good –

"Do you need help?"

Kisame was watching her struggle, both of her hands caught in her hair trying to untangle the hair tie without ripping her hair out.

"I, uh, no. I think I almost have it," she tried not to flush in embarrassment. What good did it do her to avoid asking stupid questions, if she was going to look stupid anyways?

Kisame laughed at her, loud and mocking, "Okay, kid." He had come to the kitchen alone; he must have stopped wherever his room was to abandon his cloak. When he started pulling ingredients from the fridge, she swore she saw him pulling out fish, but that was a bit too on the nose… wasn't it? "How old are you anyway?"

"I'm nineteen," she muttered, "but I'm not sure if this body is the same age." It wasn't as if she had a way of knowing, but she felt like maybe they were.

"You're younger than Itachi, then."

She snorted, "Not like I would know."

Kisame grinned menacingly; she couldn't tell if it was menacing because of his teeth or if he had meant for it to be that way. "Yeah, he's never been talkative."

"That's one way to put it," she mumbled.

"What are you doing?"

Kyoko snapped her head to the doorway, Deidara was looking at her with abject horror. "Well, uh, the hair tie. It came a little loose, I think. Because of all the wind, and the flying. It got tangled… and now it's stuck," she wanted to cry. She was getting another migraine, and it was stupid, and she was stupid, and this was so stupid. In a few minutes, she would be bald and stupid. This day was stupid, she should have just gone back to sleep this morning.

"Stop, you're making it worse, yeah," he waved her hands away and started taking over. Just like Kisame, Deidara had taken off his cloak, and this was the first time she'd ever seen him without it. "This happens sometimes, you'll be fine," he assured.

She pretended the sniffle was allergies.

"How did you become an artist?" he questioned as he started untangling her hair.

"Well," she started, "I just sort of… started. I liked drawing as a kid, and my mom encouraged it. She would buy all sorts of art supplies and take me to art museums, whatever she could think."

Deidara's hands stilled for a moment, had she said something wrong? His hands continued their work after a moment, "Is that normal where you come from?"

"I mean… Depends on what you mean I guess?" She wished she had been looking anywhere else as Itachi walked in, just like the other two he wasn't wearing his cloak. Had they all abandoned their cloaks? She wanted to look away, but she wouldn't be the coward that looked away first, though it was hard to look him in the eyes and maintain any dignity with Deidara untangling her hair. Luckily, he looked away first and she considered it a win, even if it had only been so he could investigate what Kisame was cooking.

"Your mom being so supportive, are all moms like that where you come from? And art museums, yeah. Do they have a lot of those?"

"Well, it depends on the mom, I guess. My grandmother… she wasn't supportive of my mom; I think that's why my mom was so…" what were the best words to describe her mother? "My mom didn't have much freedom, so I think she overcompensated by letting me have too much. And yeah, there are tons of art museums, all over the world too not just in Japan." Part of her wanted to ask Deidara about his mother, but the way he had asked… Had he never had a mother? Or was his mother just different from hers? She didn't ask him. He probably wouldn't answer, and if he did… She was afraid of how she would feel.

"So, you draw?"

"That's how I started, but now I usually use oil pants. I like the way they blend and how much detail you can add, plus I tend to do portraits and I feel like it works for me better."

His hands stilled again, and he was silent for a moment, and finally, she felt the hair tie come loose. He set the hair tie on the table and sat across from her before he continued badgering her, "I don't understand. You went to school for art, but you already know how to paint, yeah. Why go then?"

"I wanted to learn more," Kyoko shrugged, running her fingers through her hair to get the rest of the tangles. "I love painting, but I don't feel good enough to make money off it," that was the simple answer, the easy answer. The truth was she was afraid to fail at it and she had hoped she would find something she loved half as much as art for a backup plan.

"I want to see," he was so… intense about it.

"Okay," she began slowly, "I don't know if you've noticed but I don't exactly have any access to anything. None of the clothes I wear are even mine, so I definitely don't have any canvas just laying around."

Deidara's brow furrowed, "Who's clothes do you think you're wearing?"

She looked down at herself, she had been stuck wearing the ugly sleeveless turtleneck today. "Uh, Konan's?"

"She didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?" her stomach dropped; she should have realized sooner. It had been so obvious. The clothes had fit too well and of course, Konan wouldn't give up her clothes. "These were… this girl. They were hers. That's why they fit."

Deidara only nodded and she looked away from him. She couldn't have this conversation; she couldn't talk about it again. The last time she'd brought up this girl's death Deidara had been so flippant about it. She was still horrified when she remembered it. 'What's your point, yeah?' That's what he'd said to her when she had despaired over it last time. When he had convinced her to talk to Pain. It was odd. He had dismissed the life of the girl he killed but had convinced Kyoko to try to live. She didn't understand how he could think like that, and she didn't want to.

"Kisame, what are you making? It smells great," she plastered a smile on her face. If she ignored it, it would go away. If she just, made it through this day and the next and the next and the next… one day she would be home. One day this would be a terrible nightmare. One day she wouldn't be in the body of a dead girl surrounded by her killers.

"Nothing fancy, just fish and rice, some vegetables too. We don't have much else right now," Kisame turned his back as he answered, digging around in the cabinets.

"Uh, can I ask? Who does the shopping? And the laundry? It all just… seems to take care of itself but it can't be that simple," busying herself with the logistics of the mundane was a lot easier.

Deidara rolled his eye, "We send the laundry out once a week and it gets delivered the next day. We're criminals, but we still need clean clothes, yeah."

"No one goes shopping. One of Akatsuki's members sends out a monthly order for groceries to be delivered," Kisame filled in, his nose wrinkled in disgust. "He's controlling with money so it's easier just to let him do it than argue."

That raised so many more questions, "What do you mean when you say, criminals? What is Akatsuki?" Criminals she knew, but they all wore matching cloaks and holed themselves up in a city. They hadn't been discreet when they left. Did they control this place? Was it full of bandits and criminals?

"It's –

"Deidara, no." Itachi interrupted abruptly, he hadn't spoken this entire time.

"Let him tell her," Kisame said, dismissing Itachi's concern. "He won't say anything he knows he shouldn't."

Deidara glared at Itachi but continued, "It's a criminal organization made up of missing-nin from hidden villages."

"Okay… I kind of gathered that from all the books," she gestured at the pile on the table, "but… what's the point?"

Kisame answered instead, he probably didn't trust Deidara not to say too much. "That part is a secret," he grinned wide exposing all his pointed teeth again. This time she felt sure it was supposed to be menacing, to intimidate her into backing down. It worked.

"Right…" She let the sentence die. It was probably better she didn't know, what would change if they told her whatever their goal was? Would she refuse to help? What about going home? It was selfish, to focus on going home when they were going to… do whatever it was that they were going to do. "Can I at least know what a jinchuriki is?"

"It's what we call the vessels for the tailed beasts," Deidara answered before anyone could interrupt him. He must have seen the lack of understanding written on her face, so he continued, "It's like a… a really powerful demon, but trapped in a vessel, yeah." Kisame and Itachi shot him a look but didn't say anything. At least, they weren't going to say anything in front of her. She had a feeling Deidara would hear about it later.

"Oh… so it's like a tsukumogami, then?" The blonde stared at her in confusion, and she elaborated like had done for her, "It's like… objects that people believe have a spirit or a kami inside it, but they're usually normal household objects."

Deidara nodded, "It's kind of like that, except it's –"

Kisame interrupted, "Dinner is ready."

Kyoko started to get up, but Deidara waved her off, "I have questions about your world. I'll grab food, you answer, yeah."

"Okay… what do you want to know?" There wasn't anything in her world that was… interesting. Maybe he had more questions about what art was like there but even that wasn't as interesting as real-life demons. What kind of objects were they trapped in? It couldn't be regular household objects, not here. It had to be something grander than that.

"Have you really flown before? You looked a little… shocked for someone that's flown," he sounded skeptical as he divvied out the food.

"Well never on the back of a clay bird, but we have… I'm not sure how to explain it. They're called airplanes. They're huge, way bigger than the birds you made, and made of metal. You can fit tons of people in them, and they fly all over the world."

Deidara's hands froze over the second plate, "You're lying, yeah."

"Why would I lie about that?" she defended.

"Then how does it work?" he asked.

"Well, I don't know that part. I know that it does work, but I don't know the details. It has wings and these engines that power it, but I don't know anything besides that."

Deidara made a horrified sound, "You get in something without even knowing how it works?"

"Well, when you put it like that it sounds bad. I'm an artist, not an engineer, there are people who know how they work," she shrugged, "there just wasn't a reason for me to know how."

"Weren't you curious?" he set one of the plates of food in front of her.

She shrugged again, "Not really, it's not like it's a mystery how they work. I'm telling you, it's completely normal where I'm from."

"What's it like?"

Kyoko shrugged, as she grabbed the chopsticks, "Flying? It's fine, I guess it – "

"No, where you're from. What's it like?" He was so… intense about it. As if he couldn't fathom any life outside of the one, he had known. He probably couldn't, she realized. Her life and her world were just as unbelievable to him as the shinobi world was to her and he wasn't the only one waiting for her answer. Itachi was sitting at his usual place a few tables over, his face revealed nothing as usual, but she knew he was listening too. Kisame turned his head slightly, he was sitting at the same table as Itachi. They all wanted to know, Deidara was just the only one willing to ask.

"Well," she started, "I don't know how to answer that. Everyone's lives are a little different, even compared to other countries or continents."

"What's your life like?"

"Deidara," she would rather try to explain airplanes to him, "can we not?" This wasn't something she wanted to talk about with them, and talking to Deidara about her life was even harder. Usually, when they talked it was about what she was learning or some story about Itachi being rude to him. It was better that way, to keep it surface level. Talking about her life when she was stuck here… was too much.

"Was it that bad?" he asked, shocked. "You had parents and friends and real school, yeah. All I had was the academy for a few years."

"No," she blinked rapidly a few times, they were starting to water. "I was… I was happy. My parents… I couldn't have asked for more. I just," She would not cry, she would not do that here in front of them. She had been doing so well, she had been burying it all as much as she could. Focusing on what she had to do to get back. "It's really hard, to think of home."

Deidara opened his mouth, ready to continue his badgering but luckily Kisame interrupted, "How did you even get here?"

Well, this question wasn't much better. "I don't know," she answered, "I don't remember."

"What were you doing before, yeah?" Deidara was, thankfully, easily sidetracked from his original question.

"Nothing. I was just… I was at a party," she started rubbing her temples, the migraine had mostly gone away but it was coming back with a vengeance. "I went home during the break before the new year started and… my friend called me. He told me another friend was having a party and I went to it and," she breathed in sharply, the pain was radiating out. "I had a couple of drinks, that was all. It was nothing, they weren't even strong, but I was dizzy, so I went to the bathroom… and then I was here," the pressure behind her eyes was building. "I woke up, and my hands were broken. Deidara was talking about how I was supposed to be dead and how they should finish the job so that was a fantastic night for me," She closed her eyes tightly, the pain was getting worse, and she couldn't look at Deidara anymore. "My head hurts," she muttered as she pushed what was left of her food away to set her head down. The tears were coming now and she couldn't stop them anymore.

"I'll go get something from the infirmary," Deidara spoke the words together quickly and she could hear one of the chairs scraping against the floor as he was leaving.

After a few moments of silence, she whispered, "Is he gone?"

"Yeah, the kid's gone," Kisame responded. "Your head really hurt, or you just wanted him to go?"

"Both," she whispered. Kyoko realized she blamed Deidara. It may not have been the fairest thing in the world, but all she knew was this girl died and Deidara was at least partly to blame for that. For all she knew, if this girl hadn't died, she would still be home. She would have had a fun night with Toshiro, gone home to her bed, and woken up in the morning with a bad hangover. Her life would have continued its normalcy. But instead, she was here, and Deidara asked too many questions that were too hard to answer. Maybe it wasn't fair to place all the blame on him, but it wasn't fair that she was here either.

"I think I'm just going to go to bed," the pounding was unbearable, and she didn't want to wait around for Deidara to come back. "Just tell Deidara I went to sleep," she dropped the dishes in the sink, thanked Kisame for the food, and left her study material behind. They would be fine for another night.

The fluorescents were aggravating her migraine, the light seemed so much brighter than it usually did. She kept her eyes half closed, each step forward worsening the migraine. All she had to do was make it to her bed, that was it. Then she could sleep and go back to pretending in the morning. It would be fine. It would have to be. There was nothing else she could do.

"Deidara did not join Akatsuki willingly."

Kyoko whipped around, the sudden motion causing a new flare of pain. It was just Itachi, standing there and staring at her; he hadn't spoken to her since she had told him off for being rude. "Why are you defending him? You don't even like him." He had followed her to her door, just to defend Deidara.

"Everyone in Akatsuki joined of their own volition. Deidara is the only person here who will understand."

"You said he was a fool."

"He is."

She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, "I don't understand you. You spend all your time talking down to him and ignoring me and now you're… what? I don't even know what you're trying to say right now." When she looked at him again… she thought his eyes looked different, softer maybe? It had to be in her head because the rest of his face looked as passive as ever.

"It was… not my intention to be rude," he spoke slowly, and she had to grit her teeth, he acted like was speaking to the village idiot. "I have focused on your survival as I have been instructed."

"Okay… but what does, Deidara have to do with that?" she snapped. His antics weren't helping her headache and he was preventing her from going to sleep with his nonsense.

"Akatsuki members are put in pairs."

"That's not an answer! Can't you just answer the question I asked instead of saying something sideways?" He narrowed his eyes at her and made a frustrated sound but didn't answer. He was frustrated? How did he turn it over in his head to make her the problem? He was the one that never answered anything and then went out of his way to be as cryptic as possible.

He did not elaborate until she turned to open her door, "It is easy to forget that companionship is essential to survival. It is why Leader places us in pairs based on commonalities. It is easy to lose one's sanity if they are left alone for too long. That is all."

Once again, he reminded her of how he made this all far more difficult than was necessary. He just went the longest way around to explain that she was blaming the only person who knew what it felt like to be trapped here. That she would need someone here, and Deidara was her best option. When she turned to face him again, Itachi was gone. He had said his piece and left. 'Not my intention to be rude,' was that an apology? Had Itachi been trying to apologize? She went to sleep wondering if he had been trying to apologize to her. It wouldn't count as one from anyone else but… Itachi was strange.

When morning came, he washed away whatever doubt she had about his apology when he made breakfast. They proceeded as they had the other days, he cooked and then served breakfast. It was the same as always, with one exception.

Itachi had made natto.