Found
S is for Spartan
O O O
"Okay—"
Sakura was abruptly cut off.
"Deidara, you can—"
And again.
"It's enou—"
Once more.
Forcefully, slightly disdainfully, but most certainly agitatedly, she pushed Deidara off of her.
Deidara stared at her like she'd just kicked his puppy, gutted it, flayed it, and then laid it out to dry.
Sakura glared right back. "Deidara, okay, I get it. Enough."
He wiped some of his own saliva from the corner of her lips with his thumb. "You can't blame me, yeah. You had me damn scared."
"I know, and I'd probably be doing the same in such a situation, but we have to—"
Either to piss her off or just because he felt like it, Deidara stopped her short with another impromptu kiss. And Sakura dearly hoped it was the latter, because she was in far too much pain to deal with his antics.
"You're acting like a love-drunk fool," she remarked when he finally pulled away.
"Rehearsing," he mumbled faintly into her neck, and she rolled out from under him before things went a little too far. They were in a foxhole, for God's sake.
She'd managed to heal herself further in the time they'd taken to rest, and the pain in her side was significantly less now, she noticed thankfully, although it wasn't quite dulled to a tolerable level. And now that Deidara was stressing their aliases again, she could only guess that they were about to travel into more densely populated areas.
"Where to next?" she asked, yawning and stretching out the kinks in her back. She couldn't wait to sleep on a regular bed again.
He rolled his eyes. "There's a large village somewhere southeast of here. From there we can recover for a couple of days. You know, see the sights, yeah."
"We don't have time to see the sights."
"In a hurry to get home?" he huffed, suddenly in a rather sour mood. Sakura made a promise to herself that if he started getting cravings for ice cream and potato chips and pickles dipped in yogurt, she was making him take a pregnancy test. "What happened to wanting to stay with me?" he finished rather glumly.
"I'm not going to fight with you," she responded noncommittally, shrugging. "Not when we only have a few more days together anyway."
The air about them seemed to darken considerably, with Deidara shutting up and all, and Sakura felt mildly guilty. Mildly.
Until he flicked another ant at her.
"Goddamn it, Deidara! Enough with the fucking ants already!"
"Get used to it, Keiko," he huffed, smirking from his spot in the dirt. "You'll be seeing more and more of these fuckers until somewhere around the border of Grass, yeah." He crushed a line of ants with a thumb, an index, middle, ring, and then pinky finger for emphasis. "Trust me on that one."
"Oh, wonderful."
"Yeah. Just wait till you see the crows. Fucking enormous."
"You know what? I don't want to talk about this." Sakura stood, brushing the dirt off of her backside to the best of her abilities. Her clothes were utterly tattered again, her hair a hopeless mess, she hadn't brushed her teeth in days, and she just knew she stank, even if she tried to push that thought far from her mind. "There wouldn't happen to be any hot springs around here, would there?"
"You wouldn't happen to have an extra 40,000 yen, would you?" he shot back, mocking her tone in a high-pitched, whiny one of his own. He dropped the tone almost immediately, though, when it was apparent that Sakura was three syllables away from burying him alive. "Because any hot springs around here have already been turned into resorts, and we don't have that kind of money, yeah." He flicked yet another ant, but Sakura deflected it this time, scowling. "And I'm not willing to steal that much money for just one night."
He stood up eventually, apparently bored with the ants now scurrying frantically around their fallen comrades, occasionally carrying some dead, curled carcasses off to the colony.
"Okay, so how are we going to get there? Walk?" she asked in exasperation.
"Do you have a better idea? I'm all out of clay, and I doubt anybody will be coming along this route in a wagon any time soon."
"…You have to be kidding me."
He waved a hand and began to walk. "We're out of harm's way, at least. I'm sure the bandits have given up on us, yeah."
Sakura started down the nearest dirt road, but Deidara led her down a different one. She followed his directions without question. This was his homeland, after all, and she didn't think she'd ever been this far from Konoha's borders. "I don't see why they captured us in the first place, really."
"Monetary value?" he tried.
"Do we look like rich silk traders?"
"Not necessarily, yeah."
"Well, then what?"
He shrugged out of his over-shirt, slinging it over his shoulder. From time to time, a bitter November wind cooled the sweat forming on their foreheads and arms, but those breezes were very few and far between.
"The only other thing I can think of," he mused, pointing his face skyward and squinting into the sun, "is that they thought they could make slaves of us. I saw some bandits that didn't look the type, so to speak."
Sakura scoffed.
"Do you have any other explanation, yeah?"
"No."
He gave her a smug sidelong glance.
"Fine, let's just drop it, then. It happened, it's over, there's nothing we can do to change it. It is what it is." To further extend her point, Sakura brushed off her hands. "We're finished with the subject."
He wrapped his shirt around his neck, protecting it from the still-harsh sun beating down on them. Sakura could only guess that winter came far too late in this portion of Earth Country.
"In any case," she forced out, keeping her gaze forward, desperate to break the uneasy silence that was wont to fall over them as of late, "where and when can you get more clay?"
He sighed. "Earth Country's pretty dry, if you haven't noticed, so we might not be able to find some clay for a while. I'm sure the market has gallons of it, so we might just have to foot it until we get there."
"Beautiful."
"I don't know, the monster crows and ant infestations are kind of off-putting."
"Shut up, Deidara."
"It's Makoto. How many times do I have to tell you, yeah?"
Sakura threw her hands up in frustration, managing to hold back a wince when a prick of pain stung her side in warning. "I give up! I give up, Makoto. Where's Kenji? I want him back."
Deidara surprised her by picking her up, then, tossing her over his shoulder much like he'd done to his shirt. She got a very pleasant view of his butt, though she yelped in protest and pounded against his back anyway. "Deidara, what the fu--?"
"Ma-ko-to," he pronounced, punctuating each syllable with a step. "I'll be found out if you keep calling me Deidara. I use to live here, you know."
She opened her mouth to bite back something sharp and witty and likely a devastating blow to his over-inflated ego, but realizing that he had a point, she settled for staring at the curve of his back.
Thoughtfully, she poked it. He barely flinched.
Not ticklish, then.
"So what's the point of carrying me?" she asked, trying to glare at the back of his head and failing. Her neck didn't turn that far.
"I'm serious. You can't call me Deidara."
"Yeah, because you really blend into the crowd as you are."
He shook his head. "For the people who even still remember me, they haven't seen me since before I joined Akatsuki. I was just a kid. I look way different, yeah."
"Still, there's a chance of someone recognizing you," she said, trying to worm her way from his grasp. He gave her no room for any such worming, and she slumped dejectedly against the hard jut of his shoulder. "You'd might as well go all out with this. Cut your hair, maybe?"
"Absolutely not," he said, and it sounded like she'd just asked him to throw himself over a cliff or something. Then again, she supposed, cutting one's hair and throwing oneself over a cliff most likely equated to the same end in Deidara's mind.
"Dye it, then. Something normal. Black or a dark brown."
He shook his head and finally let her to her feet. "Not necessary. Nobody's going to recognize me."
O O O
"Deidara, is that you?"
"No, I'm Makoto."
"Oh. My mistake. You look just like a boy I used to know."
And that, unfortunately, was how Deidara found himself in this rather horrible predicament. He combed his fingers time and time again through his hair, now a lousy, sad, degenerate brown-black in color. It was left to fall around his shoulders, parted straight down the middle, making him hot and uncomfortable.
He chanced a glance at Sakura, who looked equally unhappy. She'd been forced to dye her hair, as well, and it turned out to be a light brownish-blonde color. It would have been pretty, actually, but it just looked odd on her. Especially with her hair tied back like that and her bangs parted much like his had been.
In fact, they'd damn near changed their whole wardrobes. He'd stolen a choice few pieces of clothing, though Sakura didn't have to know that, and they were now dressed in them, this drab, dominantly grey native garb. He still wore his mesh shirt and tank top underneath the baggy grey tent of a t-shirt he wore now, but that was more for the familiarity of it. With his scope removed and safe in his pocket, his ponytail down and an unattractive dent left in his hair because of it, and oversized clothing draping over his frame, he didn't quite feel like Deidara anymore.
Sakura's clothes were too big, as well, and he took solace in this fact. At least he wasn't the only one walking around looking like a jackass. She'd finally permanently done away with her khaki medic skirt and loud red zip-up shirt, but she'd kept the old tunic she'd been forced to wear since the beginning of their journey. Maybe she'd left it on for sentimental value. Who knew?
Well, he figured, at least they blended with the masses now.
…Yes, okay, but at what price?
A part of Deidara went into a mini panic-attack. The price of his hair, that was at what price! His beautiful, shiny, well-kempt, virgin hair! It was never going to be the same again—he just knew it. Not after this dye job, at least. He'd poisoned his amazing hair with vile, filthy chemicals. Why couldn't he have just worn a wig?
And worst of all about this predicament was: "I look like a girl," he complained moodily, crossing his arms over his chest. "A very frumpy girl. Too homely and bookish."
"You always look like a girl, Makoto. And what's wrong with homely and bookish?"
"I look like a housewife! That's what's wrong with it! I can't pull off the nerdy-but-sexy-in-that-innocent-way look, yeah!"
"Look," she whispered, glaring up at him with those sharp green eyes, but the effect was largely lost when she didn't have pretty pink hair framing her pretty little face. "We can wash this out once we get out of Earth Country. Or at least into the boonies and out of this particular market."
"All of Earth Country is the boonies, if you haven't noticed. And this market is the size of a small city."
"Whatever," she huffed, suddenly in a rather sour mood. She had to have been PMSing or something. Which, at least, meant that she wasn't pregnant, and he was overjoyed at the prospect of being unmarried and childless for a brief thirty seconds before the ache of loneliness set in.
Goddamn, he was old. He almost expected his joints to start creaking or something.
Pouting, he stared at Sakura. "I'm not old," he muttered, and she didn't even register that he'd said anything. Or maybe she was ignoring him.
Luckily, they managed to locate a stand that sold copious amounts of clay that made the mouths on Deidara's hands water, and while Sakura distracted the vendors with a flash of thigh and a high-pitched giggle, Deidara swiped enough of the wonderful molding material to last him months.
"Hey, you've been robbed!" Deidara shouted, appearing in front of the two star-struck vendors. He pointed in a random direction. "That guy just ran off with your clay, yeah!"
One of the two men were off while the one left behind brooded moodily. Especially so when Deidara took Sakura's hand in his own and kissed her left ring finger.
Yes, that was a purposeful move.
Yes, he derived great pleasure when the vendor huffed and turned a blind eye.
Yes, that was his stomach growling and ruining the moment.
Sakura laughed and pulled away, instead wrapping an arm around his waist. Likewise, Deidara draped an arm about her shoulders, finger idly picking at the cottony fabric of her ugly t-shirt.
"Let's find some food," she suggested, nodding toward a vegetable stand in front of them.
"That's it," Deidara said, grinning, "I've corrupted you."
They each had a very delicious avocado in their hands by the end of that adventure, and the vegetable vendor was none the wiser. Deidara bit the skin of his before beginning to painstakingly peel it, getting green gunk all over is hands. It was no small task.
But he reaped the fruit of his labors soon enough, and it was, quite possibly, the most delicious thing he'd ever tasted. It was a dull sort of flavor, probably could have used some salt, but it was fresh and soft and room-temperature even in the freak heat they were experiencing.
As soon as she peeled her avocado halfway, Sakura enjoyed a similar feast, and from the time they tore off the rinds to the time they sucked on the huge bulb in the center, neither said a word.
Sakura surveyed her clean seed for a moment before tossing it into the dirt. "You know, I'd like to have an avocado tree one day."
"Mm," Deidara conceded before throwing his seed aside, as well. "The thieves took all of my money, so I was forced to remedy this problem, yeah."
"I really hope we don't run into them again," Sakura mumbled, making a rather discontented face. "I'm still not completely rested from that fiasco." She rubbed her once-injured side for emphasis.
"We won't run into them," Deidara reassured sternly. "We might see them again if we go out onto a main road, but I doubt they'd come this far into the town. It's too dangerous, even for them." He shook his head. "How many people here do you think they've robbed?"
Seemingly satisfied, Sakura shoved her hands into her pockets. "We need money," she reiterated, and Deidara smirked, producing a handful of foreign coins from his own pocket.
Sakura choked on nothing. "Deidara, where did you get all that?"
He feigned a look of honest hurt as he shoved the coins back into his pocket. "What, you think I'd stop at stealing clay and avocados?" He draped an arm around her shoulder to tug her side against him, and she grunted. "I may not be a part of that anymore, but I'm still a criminal, yeah." And she didn't particularly seem to enjoy his toothy grin.
They walked on like that for a while, Deidara's arm around her shoulders, Sakura's arm presently coming up to wrap hesitantly around his waist like last time, his long, brown-black hair being ruffled by the wind and her short brown-blonde hair barely quivering in its firm ponytail. They were just an ordinary couple, now, strolling down the market and away from the hustle and bustle, trying to find a place to stay for the night that was in a quiet, preferably empty district.
And, in the grand scheme of things, who were they really? Were they the ex-Akatsuki member and the Hokage's apprentice, or were they just two people from the Land of Earth who had met unexpectedly and developed a bond? They were without identity in their new appearance, and where before people had always turned their heads to catch a wary second glance, barely anyone even looked at them. Being typical and unrecognizable was more of a blessing than Deidara had ever anticipated.
The afternoon sun was brutal, though, especially with his hair a darker shade and pooling around his shoulders. He was starting to sweat, so to save Sakura from the horrors of male perspiration, he pulled away from her shoulders and grabbed her hand instead.
And…it was funny how he'd forgotten just how different he really was. The mouth on his palm licked Sakura's fingers appreciatively, and Sakura only shot him a weary sidelong glare.
She made him forget about all of his inconsistencies; or maybe she didn't make him forget, but she made them seem so insignificant in comparison to the rest of the world. His bloodline limit may have been unpleasant and unattractive in several senses, but who would care when they still didn't know what lay in the deepest parts of the ocean? Who was to care when they still hadn't figured out what sleeping giants hid behind the sky? Deidara was an oddity, sure, but it meant nothing. The unknown was far more interesting than that already held as the truth.
He was happy for the first time in a long time, he realized for what had to be the millionth time since he'd met her, even amidst all the chaos. She made him happy where only his art had done that before. She wasn't art, not in the most humble of terms, but maybe…just maybe…she was something incomparable to a mere concept. She was a human life, a system of veins and bloods and organs, a microcosm of the actual world: several different parts unconsciously working together for a greater cause, with the occasional bastard parasite, germ, or bacteria coming along to fuck everything up.
And Deidara was the parasite. The Akatsuki was the Earth's malevolent tumor, spreading and infecting wherever it touched.
But the world, he reminded himself, had healed itself, fixed itself, restored itself. The war was raging—probably not as strongly now as it had been at the start of their "journey"—and that too would ebb to a dull memory, a section of a history book, something academy children would have to study and take tests on in the future.
He wondered if he'd even be in the history books. And he wondered if they'd mention Sakura, the girl with the criminal's heart clutched ambiguously to her breast.
And then he scoffed at his own stupidity. This was really no time to act sentimental.
A hotel sign caught Deidara's attention presently, and he stopped in front of it. Sakura looked up at him quizzically.
"I think this looks good," he said, leading her inside the hotel. "Our funds are a little limited, yeah."
"It's fine," she consented, and she didn't pull her hand away. Her thumb rubbed over the top of his hand, even as he ordered a room—the cheapest room available, one bed, about half the size of a studio apartment—and led her into the elevator.
"When can we wash out this dye? It makes me uncomfortable," he lied, pressing the button that would take them to the third floor.
"I'm not sure. I was really only worried about it when we passed through that market, but I'm starting to think we should keep it for a while. At least until we get out of Earth Country."
He scoffed and pulled his hand away from her in order to cross his arms. "Do you really think it's necessary? Nobody's going to recognize me out here."
The elevator dinged its decent upwards, slightly upsetting its two occupant's stomachs as it did so.
"That's what you said last time," she reminded him.
"Yes, but after we get out of this hotel, we'll be flying the rest of the way, yeah."
She eyed him suspiciously, the expression on her face turning from cynical to annoyed to defeated. "Fine. Fine. I just hope we don't get caught."
"We won't," he reassured, and he followed this up by the most charming grin he could muster. To his surprise, she smiled back, a small upward tilt of the corners of her lips that rounded her cheeks and accentuated the pink tinge of her face.
He wanted so very, very badly to kiss her then, and shooing away the thought that gee, this sure happened a lot, he took her chin in his hand and tilted her face up.
Her smile faded when she immediately closed her eyes and leaned in, and something decidedly sexual and yet utterly innocent all at the same time tickled his stomach. His lips were on hers after a moment, him sliding his eyes shut, hand moving from her chin to the base of her neck, brushing his thumb just under the curve of her jaw. The lips on his hand pressed ever-so-slightly against her skin, but if she protested such an action, she didn't outwardly show it.
Quite on the contrary, she seemed all in favor of this, because she leaned her head a little away from Deidara's hand, giving it more access than necessary to the soft skin of her neck.
He slipped a tongue just passed her lips at the same time his other tongue tapped at the flesh of her neck, inciting goose-bumps in its wake. His other hand grabbed her roughly by the hip, pressing her flush against him.
The kiss stuttered, and he took this time to take a deep breath, eyes still closed, as Sakura urged the both of them against the wall. The elevator had reached their floor, but the doors were closing now. Deidara couldn't quite care less, though, and he imagined Sakura was in a similar state of mind.
"I'm going to miss this," she muttered right before Deidara continued their disrupted kiss, and he just groaned his answer into her, even as she shifted her hips in such a way that the mouth on his hand closed its lips around her skin. The other mouth nipped insistently at her pants, bunching around the thickest part of her thigh.
He leaned into the wall of the elevator behind him, his lower back curving perfectly around the railing there. It was mostly silent in the elevator, with the exception of the occasional ding of the elevator. He pressed every button, from one to ten, on the button pad, and the elevator began its journey upwards once more.
She was so soft, so warm, so flawlessly pressed into his body. He wanted her so badly, and in more ways than one.
He felt her fingers play with the waistband of his pants.
He never wanted her to look at another man again. She'd never need to, in any case, because she'd be happy with him, traveling with him, staying home on the off-days, cooking him delicious meals and watering the garden outside. He'd sculpt in his studio and she'd happily read a book, and they'd give the dog a bath together. And their son could cling to his swing-set outside, climb on the jungle-gym and build castles in his sandbox. He'd help his dad make pretty little pieces of art to sell, and he'd hand his mom the wooden stirring spoon. And when the time came, he'd press a little ear to his mom's rounded belly, and he'd say to his little sister, safe and warm and happy, and Deidara would…
Deidara would name him Katsurou.
Sakura would…she'd probably like that. They'd have the best life together, simple, easy, beautiful. Life would be beautiful.
He opened his eyes halfway, couldn't help himself, because after thinking so thoroughly through these life plans involving the woman before him, he couldn't not open his eyes and affirm that yes, she was still here.
Sandy brown hair met his eyes, though, tied back into a ponytail, and unflattering grey clothing shrugged around this person's body.
It felt like a bucket of cold water had been poured down his spine. This wasn't—
Wait. Yes, it was.
He broke off the kiss slowly, not wanting her to think anything was wrong, but feeling sick and jittery. It was a shock to even think that he was doing this with anyone but Sakura, planning out a life involving anyone but Sakura, naming a child with anyone but Sakura.
She smiled again, shyly, and laughed a little. "We really should stop doing that."
He smiled back, though it was half-hearted. "Not at long as I can help it, yeah."
Finally, the elevator reached their floor, and they stepped out.
It didn't matter if it was just a thirty-second walk from here to their room. Deidara took her by the hand anyway.