~Art's Most Valuable Form~
~Act No. 9~
Visualization
Kankuro had ambled back into the apartment thinking that he would be met with the music blaring as it had when he had left, instead, he was met with darkness and utter silence. Confused, he quickly made his way into the living room only to see a note left on the coffee table. He immediately he knew that Sasori had left already.
"Really Sasori?" Kankuro asked into the silence, incredulously. "Really?"
He tsked and shook his head in disbelief as he read the letter.
To my servant,
You should know by now that I will never be here for an exact amount of time. You also have no reason to even be remotely be shocked by this even though you already are.
I, momentarily, have no desire to return, so when I do, I shall call upon you, and have you arrive where I please, when I please, when I so rightfully order it, or when I unexpectedly show up in the apartment in Italy. Until something comes up and I ask your presence, take care of the place in my absence (I had eventually noticed the dust piling up on my desk), and clean regularly. Any work you deem as 'too hard to complete' or asked for my specific artistry send them to me at the Kage Hotel in Las Vegas.
Enjoy my apartment while it remains in your possession,
Akasuna no Sasori
Kankuro had noticed that Sasori had signed with his specific signature that he claims is far more interesting to the eye. He really felt like scoffing at the way he treated him in the letter that was created in the most 'fine and adequate' hand. The man really did know how to demoralize someone when they gave him the chance, and heaven knows Sasori was the best at it. He had even written to my servant, instead of to Kankuro. There were times when he hated his master, but he knew that that was just the way he was, and there was no way of changing that aspect of Sasori. He was too good at it, and obviously enjoys it to a moderate degree.
Shaking his head in disbelief, he placed the note in one of his pockets. He vaguely wondered though just what had caused his master to leave so abruptly. Sasori never did anything without reason, for there was a purpose to everything he did, and if there wasn't a ligament reason, he wouldn't have ever had it in his thoughts to begin with. So what could it be?
I bet it's some girl or something. He snickered at the mere thought of Sasori having an actual relationship, and being all romantic. If only Sasori knew just what he was insinuating, oh, the redhead would probably fire him out of pure anger. Still he laughed out loud at the picture in his mind.
As he climbed the stairs that led to his Master's office, he wondered just what project he had taken up that morning. There were times when he pondered if he should stop Sasori from over exertion, but he knew the man wouldn't have given it up anyway. But, what had caused him to go all berserk like he had? Sasori was never more than cool and composed, and not to mention quiet in his work, and yet he had the music blaring so loud he could hear it from the other end of the apartment. He hoped that he wouldn't obtain a complaint from neighbors because of that.
Kankuro couldn't breath when he saw the painting that beheld his line of vision. What. The. Hell. Who the hell is that? The artistry was uncanny, and there was no way it could be anyone but Sasori Akasuna, and yet, there was no way it could possibly be connected to him. No freaking way!
Tans, pinks, greens, tints, and shades were all that he could see on the figure. The pink hair draped over her shoulders, seemingly as soft as silk, and flew with the wind that traveled around her freely. Her eyes were large, orb-like emeralds that shined with an electric hue in the light, they were filled with joy and happiness, clearly in love. Her skin was lightly tanned, a perfectly wonderous pigment that was untainted by the world. She was an absolute and utter angel.
There is no way that this is a girl that Sasori Akasuna of all people knows. No freaking way. She is way too pretty to be his girlfriend. There is simply no way man! Kankuro was bewildered to say the least, and as he ruffled up his hair in shock, his brows furrowed in deep confusion.
Then he stopped. A smirked crawled mischievously up his lips, for an idea had lit its way into his head. Oh, he would show the world this painting if he has anything to do about it, and since Sasori seemed so keen in not telling him, he would show him that he knew. People said that Sasori would be the next Leonardo Da Vinci, and oh he would be now.
He rubbed his hands together. Oh yes, this would certainly set his master off, but the thing was, if it did become as famous as the knew it would, Sasori couldn't fire him no matter how much anger he would object him to.
He-he! Time to get to work Kankuro!
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"What," Sasori replied icily, to the enthusiastic statement that he had just heard, not enthused at the prospect. He stared irritatedly at the overly elated Deidara in front of him.
Sakura stood by Sasori's side, dumbstruck and distressed partially at the revelation. All she could conjure up was a stuttering, bewildered response, "Wh-When exactly...er.. When is that supposed to be, Dei?"
"Today, un!" Deidara exclaimed, obviously excited. "We leave today, yeah!"
"Deidara, your an imbecile," Sasori growled.
Sakura could hear the anger and impatience that painted the redhead's words, and she was a bit thrown off at the venom that wrapped itself there for her to find. As to help calm him, she put an arm on his shoulder, a half-smile on her face. "It's alright."
Sasori's anger diminished substantially at the softness in her voice, soothed by it's tranquil allure. He nodded once to acknowledge that he understood, and a small smile, that shined as light did during a dark night, appeared. He felt like himself after that, the personification of calm.
"Although I don't believe in what Sasori does, in that your an imbecile Dei," Sakura admitted somberly, removing her hand from Sasori's shoulder. "I do think that it's a tad bit too frivolous of you not explain to us just what we were to be doing for the next week."
He merely rubbed his head sheepishly in response.
"Well," Sakura took a breath, a rueful smile on her face as she faced the redhead. "We need to get back to the hotel then, Sasori."
He nodded. "Indeed."
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"Deidara told me that we leave at four, so we should probably meet back here together around three or so," Sakura said, as they stopped in the lobby of the Kage Hotel.
Sakura could see the methodical thinking that Sasori managed to complete in a matter of seconds before confirming her time-clock to be accurately placed, "Thats fine."
As she entered her room, she immediately began to ponder just why the entire Akatsuki Organization had such an abrupt decision to take leave, for everyone. She could understand why Sasori would be rather annoyed with the situation, since he left when he pleased and not when other authorized it, but all the same, she figured that he would at least enjoy it slightly. And then here was the insult he threw right at Deidara so darkly, as if what they were doing was a terrible idea, but not because of his normal annoyances, but as if it were something far more personal. She understood that completely, from her own experiences.
She herself was being rather reluctant about the situation, it brought back memories of another life, one lost so long before. She had only been a child, and she knew that the only person she knew that could even remotely understand was Sasori himself. Yet, she felt uncertain about troubling him about her own problems, for he didn't need them.
She dropped her clothes into her old baggage that Ino had bought for her years ago when they had gone to Egypt. She could remember that desert sand in her face and the scorching heat of the city. She had been fond of the Great Pyramids though; that had felt like she had gone back in time to the ancient days. She smiled at the past memory as she gripped the extended handle, ready to leave for the time.
Then she looked over her room. She really didn't want to check out, and yet she would have to; she would be gone for at least a few weeks. They would need to have someone occupy the suit while she was away, and yet she couldn't find it in herself to rid of the place. She cared for it far too much to give it away to a stranger that would probably just spend their time there just like any normal person that goes to Vegas would. She grimaced at the image, but soon sighed, knowing that she would have to give it away for awhile. She didn't want to waste the room.
With a retreating sigh, she departed.
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Instantly he realized that he was slower than Sakura in terms of quickness when it came to packing luggage. The sight of her at the front desk brought questions to his head, but inevitably he figured out just what she was going there. He quirked a brow in question, but it vanished as she waltzed up to him, carry-on in toe. There was a certain longing and wistful expression that marred her face, and Sasori found that it should never be there.
"You checked out," he said plainly.
Her eyebrows raised. "You guessed correctly."
"It wasn't a guess."
"You just looked at what I was doing, and you knew, didn't you?"
"I never guess."
"No, you think and solve."
"I'm highly intelligent."
"Clearly." She felt like laughing at the complete impassiveness as he retorted every word. It was very amusing to see him just try to show off as he just solved questions so simply. For an artist, he would be an amazing psychologist, then she sweat-dropped at the image. He just didn't exactly have the personality for that type of profession...
"Indeed."
Shaking her head with a smile, she began to stride away and toward the door. "I'm going to hail a limo." Then added awkwardly, "Somehow."
He figured that she would probably just stand out there, yelling her heart out until someone pick her up simply so they didn't have to hear her consistent, annoying questioning. It would only cause them to waste precious time, time that he wasn't going to waste unwisely. "That's unnecessary."
She stopped and straightened, before turning on her heel toward him. "Then what are you planning?"
Sasori could remember a time when he had used that thing. That thing that he had received from a company nearly five months before. He hasn't used it since he first got it in his possession. It wasn't that he didn't think it was fine, it was simply that he had no necessity nor obligation to use the contraption.
"Go to the door attendant, and tell him that, 'the scorpion is waiting'," Sasori answered vaguely. He gestured to the doormen, whom was smiling at the residents arrived and left as he opened the doors for them politely.
Sakura gave him a strange look, but didn't argue with his request. Then Sasori watched with calculating eyes as little, innocent Sakura ambled up to the doorkeeper with a friendly smile. There a small skip in her step that told everyone just how happy go lucky she was, and Sasori thought that he had never seen anyone so bright before. He could see that her lips were moving with the words that he had prescribed, the smile remaining, but instead of getting one in return, the doorman was immediately pale, his eyes filled with fear. At the sight, Sasori couldn't help the smirk that followed as the seconds past. It was just too amusing. The bewildered look on Sakura face as the doorman ran out of the hotel was also rather comical.
As she walked back up to him, she stared at him, aghast. "Sasori." She scratched her head, as she stood no more than a few feet from him. "Might I ask, um, just what you did to that poor man?"
"Business, Blossom," Sasori replied, as he smirk widened. "Business."
"You know, sometimes you scare me Sasori."
His smirk vanished at the word scare. His voice was devoid of any emotion as he recalled when she had literally thrown herself at him, "Like when I left?"
Just as his amusement had left, her happiness deflated, and he automatically regretted saying sometime so arrogant to her. Thing was though, he still kept his mask in place.
Her eyes didn't look at him as she admitted in a whisper, "Yes, like when you left."
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When the doormen returned to Sakura, he barely made a glance at Sasori before he was so scared that he quickly placed a lone key into the hand of Sakura. He watched in distain then, instead of amusement as the man ran down a hall, probably taking a break for the time being.
"Oh, Sasori," she sighed sadly. She shook her head, troubled at the actions that had taken place, obviously not fond of them.
He didn't even speak as he briskly paced his walk away from the lobby, and he couldn't even hear the near-running girl behind him a few steps. She had indeed learned the ways of shadow walking, as Deidara had called it the first time he had learned it from Itachi and himself.
It wasn't until they were outside and he had opened the door for her, that she spoke to him, clearly shocked.
"You own a... Ferrari?"
The scarlet vehicle was shining from the sun that had placed it's rays upon it. There was a sheen that glared in different directions. The top was removed as it was the middle of summer, and it was brand new, practically.
"Two actually," Sasori admitted.
"Two?"
He scowled. "I don't like to repeat myself, Sakura."
The vermillion that had captured his hair was shining just as triumphantly as his car, but Sakura could still see the emotions that entwined themselves in his pair of amber. He was feeling guiltily for what he had said; that was why he was holding the car-door open for her. He wanted to be forgiven, and just like that, she did.
Instead of frowning, she smiled at him lovingly. She knew that her white dress was swaying from her movement, and that her eyes probably showed him everything he ever needed to know, but instead of letting him figure out that she forgave him in such a way, she did something else. She went on her tip toes with a bright smile that obviously confused him.
"What are you-"
He was never good with emotions though.
She placed a little kiss on his cheek before quickly ducking into the vehicle. She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks, the embarrassment kicking in, but instead of regret, she was glad she had done that.
Sasori couldn't believe what the hell had just happened to him. He touched his cheek in disbelief, and wondered just how that had even occurred. How this girl could forgive so easily was out of this world, and to him of all people. No one forgave him so simplistically. No one. Not even Deidara.
She had kissed him. He could feel the thumping of his erratic heart and even a heat rise to his pale complexion. It startled him. His reaction to her actually rather unnerved him.
People would assume that he had had a crazy life with women considering his personality to he outright arrogant, but really it wasn't a truth. The reality of the situation was that for the most part he never cared for women. They were annoying creatures that did senseless things. He was beginning to figure out that his assumption was starting to shatter into tiny pieces because of the girl that still remains at his side no matter what he threw at her emotionally.
Silently he slipped into the driver's seat, feeling less than stable intellectually. He gripped the steering-wheel, moving his hands against the leather that encased it, trying to get his mind back into place. He needed to get back to himself.
"Um, Sasori," Sakura called, clearly unsure of speaking. "We're going to be late."
When he had looked at her, he couldn't remove his gaze from her. Her pink was shining from the sun hitting it, creating it to be almost Godly beautiful. He could imagine that he could brush his hands through it, and get a sense of just what exactly it felt like. Would it be feather-like, or simply silky? He wondered.
It was only after she said that they were going to be late that he became conscious of just what he was thinking of. His eyes narrowed dangerously, murderously at the road ahead of them.
He had returned to himself.
"Late?" He scoffed. "I'm never late."
They drove, and the only thing that Sakura could feel after that was of a memory that was never to be forgotten, even after how much she tried to suppress it.
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The plane ride to Kiri, Kisame's hometown, was simple and easy, but none the less, it had been much more of a hassle than necessary. She nearly sweat-dropped when she saw that all the Akatsuki members were all in their formal, yet flashy attire, all except for Itachi. She could see Sasori's twitch in his brows, obviously cursing them inwardly for their stupidity to stand out like a sour thumbs.
By the time they had gotten into Kiri, they were soon escorted to the docks, where the S.S Uchiha was located at. Upon seeing the vastly large ship, she felt her heart drop in fear. She felt like she had just been invited onto the Titanic, knowing what was to transpire in the weeks that followed. She gulped.
She felt a smooth hand gripping her upper-arm, genteelly pulling her away from the commotion of all the business men, children, and just the natural chaos that ensued before they were to board the massive contraption. It wouldn't be long, she knew, and it didn't giver her any comfort.
"I see that you're not ready," Sasori analyzed as he slowly strolled her away from everyone.
"Neither are you," Sakura whispered, unable to reach his eyes. Why couldn't it have been Deidara or Itachi that had noticed her distress? She was weak enough in front of Sasori that he probably assumed that she was in love with him; she didn't want that. He wouldn't ever love her anyway.
She could feel the tightness of his hand starting to constrict her. She was unable to move, it hurt, but she didn't show it. "What is it?" He hissed quietly as they stopped in a clearer section of the loading dock, obviously irritable that she had noticed his break in composure earlier that day.
"My...My parents..."
She didn't see that his eyes began to widen, but his grip was gone completely after her barely coherent words. There was so many people around them, and yet all she could really into consideration was the man before her, and the concrete floor that she was finding to be far more interesting at the moment than usual.
His artist fingers suddenly lifted her chin up to him. It wasn't exactly harsh, but neither was it gentle, it was just Sasori. They were soft on her face, but she stared at him in shock as his amber orbs observed her. She could tell that the bells and whistles in his head were conjuring up whatever his conclusion would be. She felt vulnerable under his intense gaze, but at the same time, she never wanted him to remove it.
"They..." He didn't have to finish his sentence. He knew just what had happened. "It was the Sharingan, wasn't it?"
She could feel the tears beginning to form in the back of her eyes, and the burn was clear to her, becoming worse as she tried in vain to keep them safely secured in her emeralds. "Sasori...!" She cried, as she cupped her face in her hands. She refused to let him see her like the way she was. She was simply to weak, and she hated the feeling.
She could soon hear the oncoming steps of sprinting bodies on the pavement. She knew immediately that someone was coming to her side, probably thinking that Sasori had done something to hurt her, but she couldn't help the emotions that had slipped away after so long of being captured deep inside. Simply seeing that ship had destroyed her, and Sasori beside her only created her feelings to go even more berserk.
Sasori felt like his life had gone in slow motion. The angered look on Deidara, Hidan, and Itachi's faces told him enough that he was going to be in trouble if the situation wasn't handled properly and quickly. But before he could utter a word to Sakura, in front of him, she was taken back a few steps by a consoling Konan. Before the three members were on him though, he could see that Sakura had dropped to the concrete, along with her concerned companion.
Bewildered, his eyes widened in shock at the first fist that was aimed at his head, and ducked, his life flashing before his eyes. Deidara.
"Sakura-" Sasori called, before Itachi had sudden shown up behind him, and Hidan in front.
He caught Hidan's fist with gritted teeth, and evaded whatever Itachi had originally planned for him. "Sakura," he growled.
"What did you do to her?" Itachi asked with a deadly calm, as the he stood in front of him, while the other two flanked his sides.
He could've sworn that he saw Itachi's eyes redden the slightest hue, but when a gasp was heard, his head snapped down at Sakura.
He saw the movement before he could even react clearly, for all he could do was barely catch the fist that was aimed at his abdomen. He had to catch another from the Uchiha heir too at his head.
"Sakura," Sasori seethed between his teeth, his eyes flickering between Itachi and a shocked, tearstained Sakura.
"Stop!" she cried from the ground, clearly just getting out of her paralyzation. About time. "He didn't do anything! Itachi... You of all people should understand what happened."
So that was how they had met. He glared at Itachi, as he threw his hands down in loathing. They hadn't hit him, the idiots. He stood straight as a board, his arms crossed, feeling as if he could murder just any of these fools if they dared to something like they had again. Itachi of all people should've been able to figure out what had transpired, instead he had allowed his feelings to overpower his intelligence, and had allowed himself to look like an imbecile in the process.
Itachi's expression revealed grief as he remembered a past memory that he himself could understand, he had been there after all, with his own parents. That wretched ship had destroyed his loved ones, leaving him deserted until he found out the reality of his family situation. That didn't mean for a second to Sasori that he didn't care about what had happened on that ship, years ago.
People had begun to stare at them, and Sasori glared at anyone in his line of vision. He had no desire for them to know anything, they had no right, nor obligation to gawk at them, and stare at them with curiousness. This was not a stage, this was reality. It wasn't the same in any consultation.
"Okay, everybody, go on," Deidara yelled out, waving with his arms as to tell them with even more emphasis to walk away. "Nothing to see here, yeah. Go on." Eventually they did, and he with them. He strode into the crowd of nobodies, practically puppets trapped to a life of nothingness. He would see his company later, but he knew that Sakura was watching him go. She was the only one that would truly care that he left without a farewell statement, but he did dare a glance back.
Sasori felt his heat constrict painfully at the sight of her in such a state.
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The hours that passed were less of a relief, but she had eventually calmed herself, and her friends down by the time that they had all settled safely on the ship. She felt more empty than sad, but she could already tell that once she could even get a glimpse at Sasori that she would probably break again. She needed to talk to him, and to him alone. Her friends had tried asking about what had happened to Itachi, Sasori, and her, but they only received silence. That conversation was for them three, that was all.
They would be in Los Angeles in three days. Three long days. Apparently Deidara had an entire manor that was set right on a beach, called El Cerrito Place, along with the street on the other side of the beach, of the same name.
She ended up skipping dinner in the dining hall to let herself be captivated in the blankest of the nicest bed she ever laid upon. While she roomed with Konan, the bluenette had reluctantly left Sakura's side to get herself something to eat, and no doubt bring some back for her. She was in no current condition to consume anything. The only thing she really cared other than confront Sasori and Itachi was being taken into a dreamscape in the land of sleep.
She only realized that it had been hours since Konan had come back, that she stared at the clock with shock. She threw back her covers, and quickly made her way from the hallway, to the side-deck, where she saw then, was Sasori. She stopped.
His back was to her, and he looked relaxed as the stared out onto the falling sun, and the water that filled that horizon. His arms were partially on the railing, distributing most of his weight on them. There was a breeze that send his bloody locks to the side of him, and Sakura began to wonder if she could ever create a better sight. A relaxed Sasori was a beautiful Sasori.
Then a thought popped into her head. What does Sasori consider beautiful? After all the artwork he's created he just had to have a certain preference of some sort that only he would ever truly believe. She cocked her head to the side, and fondled with the collar of her shirt anxiously. She she disturb such a peaceful side of him? It was such a rarity to see him in such a way.
"Fiore di Ciliegio," He spoke without moving. Startled, she jumped, but found her feet moving without her consent.
"Sasori," she replied meekly, fiddling with her hands. She stood right beside him, and slowly his head turn toward her. His expression was blank, but it wasn't calculating or annoyed, simply calm, almost somber.
He stared at her for a long time before his brow quirked up a bit. "Yes? Clearly your curious about something. Speak."
The way he spoke sent her for a loop. She never heard Sasori talk quite like that. Never. Calmly, perhaps, but not almost harmonic, and filled with tranquility. She found herself blushing at the way he gazed down at her.
"I was wondering what you consider art."
"Ah," He said, his eyes held the refection of the horizon and the rainbow of the sunset, "Art's most valuable form, yes?"
She nodded.
"Anything eternal," He answered with more positive emotion she's ever heard. "Something that lasts long into the future, and never rots away."
She felt herself relax, the tension of the days recent events starting to be lifted off her shoulders for a short while. "Forever is an awful long time."
"And yet, it's beautiful nonetheless, more than almost anything else."
They sat in the silence of the evening, just letting the wild tussle through their hair, and cool them from the warm day before. She rested her back along the silver railing, and closed her eyes in pure tranquility for the first time that day.
You know I know how
To make em stop and stare as I zone out
Sakura snapped out of her harmonic zone confusedlystaring at Sasori.
The club can't even handle me right now
Watchin you I'm watchin you we go all out
Sasori grimaced at the ringtone of his phone, then remembered that Kankuro had specifically set that one.
The club can't even handle me right now (yeahhhhh)
The club can't even handle me right now (yeahhhhh)
Quickly Sasori pulled his phone out of his pocket, hurrying to quiet the irritating and practically blaring music.
"What do you want, servant?" Sasori asked emotionlessly into the phone.
"Yes, well hello to you to Master Sasori," greeted Kankuro on the other line.
"Elaborate."
"I just called so that you know that your most recent painting is now on the news, and that critics are wondering if this is going to be the second greatest known painting of all time, thank you very much," Kankuro retorted.
Sasori's eyes narrowed to the sky. "Which painting are you referring to?"
He heard a scoff. "You seem just so excited about this. It was the girl with the pink hair."
Sasori's heart nearly stopped, and his eyes widened like saucers. He stared at Sakura in shock, and the girl looked extremely concerned at his sudden change in expression.
Seconds past, and the tension between them was becoming suffocating for him. His breathing became ragged, he found that he couldn't think straight. He was starting to panic. He needed to get to Deidara.
"Hey Sasori...You ther-" Sasori hung up, slowly letting the phone descend with his hand, that he found was shaking from the realization. He could feel his heart racing a thousand times faster than ever before.
It simply couldn't have been released! No! She was never to find about what he had painted and created. Never. She was never, ever to find about it.
"Sasori?" She uttered so innocently that he knew right then and there that he cared. No, he refused to acknowledge that anything was there. "Are you okay?"
Sasori's life felt like it was flashing before his very eyes. He couldn't stay here with her, not then. Sasori took a started and shaking step back before he sprinted away, leaving an astonished and scared Sakura in his wake.
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Art's Most Valuable Form
Author's Note:
Updated: November 29, 2013
Ok, we are finally getting into the plot, and it is absolutely huge! I have so much in store with this story, so I hope that you guys stay along for this emotional ride I have planned. First off, there will be about three or less chapters until Sasori and Sakura get together, and I'm so excited.
Also I completely realize that the ending of this chapter is pretty rushed, but theres not much I can do.
Happy belated Thanksgiving guys!
Please Review, they really help me and I truly appreciate them.
-Ja-ne!
-Cassandra