[Disclaimer]
Chapter Seven
The Dirty Game
October 11, 7:58pm – Carnival
When Kakuzu and Itachi finally caught up with the others, it was in a small theatre specializing in satirical plays and parodies. They doubted that anyone in their group was fond of such things, and so the main reason to go there was probably for the ambience; rather, the lack of distractions and other exhausting things. They'd had enough of that for one day.
Itachi had instantly recognized it as the last act of The Pirates of Penzance when he'd come to. This was a visibly altered version of the classic play, though, and not a pleasing one at that. The fan in him automatically disliked it and wished to strangle the necks of the proud and irritating performers.
The theatre itself stank of liquor, and though the horrid scent of it stained their seats, they were all – with the exception of Hidan – more or less liquor stink-free. Hidan was half-asleep and snoring, never having been one for the arts. Kisame was engaged in conversation with Deidara while Sasori only dully half-listened to them, eyes on the stage but looking through it.
Sasori had only glanced at Itachi and Kakuzu as they made their way into their little group. Itachi, who always greeted him and always tried to suck him into a conversation he would otherwise choose to avoid, was avoiding him. The distance was rather obvious and it made solid some invisible wall between them that Sasori had only just noticed. Kakuzu, on the other hand, seemed completely normal; rather, as normal as Kakuzu could ever be normal.
The curtains closed and the show was over. The transition was quick, however, and soon the heavy red curtains were drawn back again to reveal another play no one in the group had ever watched or heard of before. The narrator's appearance bore a remarkable similarity to the Ringmaster, but then again that could have simply been the prescribed uniform or such for their similar roles.
"Just your average ten-year-old murderous kid with a kitchen knife," The narrator seemed to sing aloud, his mouth curled into a devilish grin. "With scatter-brained parents who just don't understand," The scene unfolded, revealing to the eyes just what he had said. "They told him to clean his room and mow the lawn, they told him to do all the mundane things they should have done." The crowd laughed as the performers made fools of themselves, tripping on each other's left feet and falling into a face full of apple pie. And that's how it went for a while, with the parents harassing the child and adding to the ever-growing hate they shared. "Until one night when he couldn't take it no more, when he decided the stupidity must stop now if at all, he took the knife from under the bed and plunged it into his parent's chests, one after the other." And the bodies screamed even after the knife had torn their hearts into pieces, their sight going dim only after they'd seen their son's bloodstained grinning face and the kitchen knife he held sluggishly with both hands. Sasori had turned away.
"Serves them right, un." Deidara stated bitterly. At this Sasori had left, refusing to so much as glance at him. "What did I say?" Deidara asked himself aloud after realizing Sasori was pissed because of him. He might not have been the most sensitive person he knew, but he wasn't above this.
"Sasori was orphaned as a kid." Kisame said, shrugging sadly. "It may have been decades ago, but I don't think he ever got over it."
"He did say that yesterday, un. But I thought it was just an excuse..."
"Sasori never lies, Deidara. Ever." Kisame sighed.
Deidara turned to the stage once more, hearing the laughter again, and pressed his lips together in a firm line. All he'd ever felt for his parents was spite; even after they had gone away, he had never missed them—or so he thought. He had Onoki and Kurotsuchi as his replacement family, after all. His eyes softened as he stood up to go after Sasori awkwardly, not bothering to excuse himself.
Outside, the theatre's streets had been even more crowded than they were during the day. Deidara desperately pushed past the bodies, seeking the overwhelming silence and white light of the moon. And he did find it eventually together with Sasori. Under this light, the moon's reflected light, everything was in black and white and various shades of grey. It was as if colour itself had been drained from the world. Or that the moment had been straight from an old silent movie without colour. Because that's how it felt like to him: silent and colourless. But to the point: Sasori was cradling himself at the edge of a hill away from the noise. There was nothing but plains here, and maybe swamps if someone were to go deeper into it. And away from Carnival's bright lights, the stars were clear and apparent.
Sasori had never looked younger to Deidara than he did now. It wasn't that he looked younger, either, so much as it was that he looked...inhuman. Like a little porcelain doll or a well-crafted human puppet. His skin was too smooth, free of any and all blemishes, and his eyes too blank and lifeless. The thought that maybe that's how Sasori's seen himself all those years occurred to Deidara, but he pushed it away almost immediately. He seated himself beside the redheaded boy. While he wasn't acknowledged, at least he wasn't pushed away. Deidara smiled a little, allowing himself to have that one small comfort.
"Kisame told me you lost your parents as a kid, un." Deidara said now, trying to be careful yet appearing reckless once again. "I don't know whether I should count you lucky or unlucky for it." He looked down to the grass and chuckled. "I've always hated my parents, un. They never loved me, so I never saw a reason to love them. If anything, they held me back from what I could—what I should have been. They were stupid and neglectful, and I still remember that day I broke my arm as a kid, un. My mother didn't even bring up the idea to bring me to a hospital. My father didn't even glance at me. I should have felt alone. But I was angry at them, I was, un. Even still, I can't imagine never having them. I don't love them, though. It's always kid of irritated me, how I can feel such conflicting emotions towards someone, un." Deidara's fingers reached over to Sasori's now in mixed sincerity and curiosity. Sasori said nothing, and Deidara may have only imagined it, but his eyes seemed to glitter. It made Deidara smile to think that he had warmed Sasori even just a little. "Even if you did turn out to become this, a killer, that doesn't mean you have to be a heartless son. It's okay to miss people, un, no matter what your occupation is."
Sasori raised his head now and turned to look Deidara, meeting him eye to eye. He opened his mouth as if he were going to say something, but was soon interrupted by Hidan's cussing as he was thrown out of the theatre.
"We should go." Sasori said now, already standing up. His speed caused Deidara to get a little dizzy as he tried to follow in suit.
"Okay, un. I guess."
Deidara followed closely behind him, smiling as he stared at the back of Sasori's head, thinking that even if Sasori would never admit it afterwards, they had a moment there, something that was far deeper and more meaningful than any other moment he could remember. And that made his feel very light for a short while; at least, until the familiar faces and voices of Kakuzu and Hidan appeared.
"We were all kicked out because of you! You're a waste of money, you know that?" Kakuzu shouted at Hidan who refused to listen.
"The show was fucking free!" Hidan yelled back.
Deidara sighed, smiling. He looked down to check the time and, deciding that it wasn't too late yet, that he was feeling a little mischievous for the moment and that he would take Sasori with him this time...just for a little 'fun.'
10:12pm – Deidara's Mansion
"We just got back." Sasori quipped. "I'm tired and I want to go to sleep. I haven't been this tired in ages and sleep has not been this tempting to me ever."
Somewhere along the way, both men opted for the original arrangement; for Sasori to stay at Deidara's own house. That way, it was easier to 'protect' Deidara, not that he needed it. Deidara's reason for it was convenience; Sasori's real reason for it was just because he liked the house a lot. And now they had just finished taking the last of Sasori's things – things he had only recently bought from a store nearby – from the hotel and into one of the guestrooms.
And now, just when Sasori was finally ready to retire to the comfort of Deidara's guest bed, as wonderfully overstuffed as everything else, and full of feathers, Deidara was asking – no, demanding – that he would come with the noisy blonde to some unknown bar at the most dangerous side of town.
"You really are older than you look, un." Deidara was whining now. "It's just a little fun. It's not like you haven't done this before."
"Not outside of work, no. And never out of my own free will." Sasori gritted his teeth. Free will? Since when?
"Then this will be a learning experience. You can be my wingman, un."
"What part of 'no' do you not get, brat?"
"Every letter of the word, un. Now get up and go hunting with me. When was the last time you got laid, anyway, un? Doesn't seem to be recently..."
Sasori turned away, red-faced and suddenly touchy. This was a sensitive topic with him sometimes. Deidara cocked his head to the side first in wonder before the pieces clicked together.
"You're a..." Deidara was open-mouthed in surprise now. "What the fuck, un."
"It's not like I can do it even if I wanted to." Sasori sighed, recovering slowly. "This body doesn't feel pain—rather, it doesn't feel anything at all. It's a puppet body." But nothing he said changed the blonde man's expression, who looked dazed as his lips curled into a mischievous grin. And then Deidara stopped grinning and he let out one long sigh.
"Dealing with you stresses me out, un. I better take a shower. But think about it, okay, un?"
Sasori refused to look at Deidara even as he left the room. He had unknowingly held his breath until he heard the little click of the doorknob as it closed. He closed his eyes for a moment, allowing himself that much solace.
He doesn't shower long. He'll be out soon. Why am I actually thinking this over? My mind is a mess. I better...do something.
He looked around the room for the umpteenth time that hour and sighed. He felt very stupid for even thinking that anything interesting would surface in there out of nowhere suddenly. The idea of going through Deidara's things instead while he was busy was tempting. And before he knew it, he was headed to Deidara's room.
The paintings were gone, every single one of them. Deidara must have taken them all to the cellar at some point. And, for what seemed like the first time, he could see the walls of the room. They were a soft cream colour, stained with paint splatters every now and then. He was being very quiet without realizing it, walking on tiptoe and very slowly. Maybe it was because he didn't want to alert Deidara. But that was a foolish thought. The shower water was very loud and it would have drowned any other sound.
Without the paintings distracting him, he could see that Deidara's room was very plain. It was so plain in fact that even the worn bear Sergeant seemed to stand out. Sasori couldn't remember walking to it if he tried, but it was in his hands now. And he ran his fingers through the felt once more, imagining how it would be like to feel something so soft.
"Either you've grown to like Sergeant or you're a pervert. Which is it? I doubt it's the former option, un." Deidara's voice seemed all too loud, causing Sasori to whip his head to Deidara's direction so fast it must have broken a muscle in his neck. He was feeling ashamed of himself for not noticing Deidara sneaking up on him, or the shower being turned off. He must have been really absorbed in the ugly toy. He had half a mind to drop it and pretend he did not know the thing.
"Did you purposely throw in just that towel in front of me?" Sasori tried to change the subject. He stared coldly at Deidara now, who was soaking wet and wearing only a damp towel around his hips. It looked as if it could fall at any given moment. Deidara snorted.
"If not my fault you can't keep your eyes off the naked body of another man, un."
Sasori rolled his eyes, tucking the bear back where he found it. "You're wearing a towel. Technically, you're not naked."
"You know what, forget it, you're impossible." Deidara said as he looked at Sasori incredulously, as if he had said something ridiculous. He went over to the dresser, shifting through his clothes for something decent to wear. And then suddenly, he felt something pressed against the skin of his back. "What are you doing, un?"
"Maybe you're right." Sasori murmured. "I lost my humanity at such a young age. I never knew how it felt like." Deidara rolled his eyes and turned to face him, slapping his hand away.
"I'm not gay, un." He said as she shoved Sasori away and fished out some clothes, sloppily putting them on as if nothing had happened.
"Are you freaked out at all that I did that?" Sasori raised a brow in inquiry and interest.
"I always knew you were a creep, un." Deidara answered bluntly. For some strange reason, Sasori was not offended. It amused him that it did not. "If you want to play, then come with me. Won't you trust me even just this once, un?"
"No."
"Okay, don't trust me, that's perfectly fine. Just come anyway."
Sasori stared him down for a long moment, contemplating. And then he sighed.
10:47pm
"So here's what's going to happen..."
Contrary to Deidara's initial invite, the bar he'd chosen was sleeker than most. There was a substantial amount of people here now, and many of them had greeted Deidara as if he were a regular. And, Sasori thought as he rolled his eyes inwardly, he probably was.
They were seated in a quiet corner that gave them a nice view of the rest of the place. Deidara ordered two martinis, one the waitress gave to Deidara and the other to Sasori.
"I don't want that."
"They're both mine, then, un." Deidara gulped one down as if it were water. "Look around you and find someone you like." Sasori's eyes were quick to survey and quick to leave. "Don't be picky; it's not like you're gonna marry them or anything. Chances are, you'll ever even see them again, un."
"And if I accidentally grab one of the enemy's underlings who tries to kill us?"
Deidara rolled his eyes. "Do you not have any trust in my abilities, un? Don't answer that. Try to get someone with nice stilettos. Those things give me fond memories."
"You mean the knife?" Sasori asked sardonically, eyes plastered on the last martini.
"No, I mean the shoes. But they might as well be a knife. I had a girl try to kill me with that once when I tried to break up with her. Not nearly as effective as a real stiletto blade, but it's quite painful, not that I cared, un."
"What about that one, then?" Sasori pointed his gaze to a thin girl with black hair.
"Too trashy, un." Deidara shivered.
"Who's being picky now? Did you just call her garbage?"
"She's a whore." Deidara shrugged. "You can tell that she hadn't even showered or redone her make-up since her last fuck. Her last guy probably did her about an hour ago and left her here to find another ride home. I don't like fucking a girl and smelling the scent of ten other men in her underwear."
"And those two?" Sasori looked over to two pretty and decent-looking girls now.
"Great choice." Deidara grinned. "Perfect, un. Follow my lead and try not to be too awkward." He gulped down the last martini and stood up suddenly, Sasori following closely behind him. Deidara was obviously having a bit of fun trying to disguise his wobbling steps despite not even being close to drunk yet.
"You're going to pass out drunk before we even get to the table." Sasori muttered.
Deidara laughed. "My tolerance is not that low. You're mocking me." He slipped in beside a tall brunette with blue eyes. "Hi, there. My friend and I are new to town and we thought you and your friend over here might be nice enough to give us a tour, hmm?" He drawled, as if he were already starting to get intoxicated. Sasori rolled his eyes as he took a chair and sat on it.
"Did you really think that would work?" The girl across Deidara asked, her expression and tone serious. Deidara snorted, chuckling softly.
"Want a drink?"
"You're a pig." Surprisingly, it was not the girls who had said this. All eyes turned to Sasori who felt a little proud of his sentiment.
"Hey, un. Whose side are you on, anyway?" Deidara whined. "But forget him," He turned back to the girls again, "I'm more interested in you two right now. Tell me about you two."
The girl's exchanged glances. True enough, Deidara's pathetic charms were working their way in. Sasori could roll his eyes all day.
"I'm Hikari." The red-headed one beside Sasori said, feeling a little more comfortable now. She looked pretty young compared to her friend, but Deidara figured she was only a late bloomer.
"Kaori." The brunette said. Her eyes were intent on them both, refusing to let her guard down. Her sceptic attitude only made Deidara lust for her even more. "Don't try anything funny. I have a black belt in taekwondo."
"Mhm, of course, un." Deidara mumbled.
Sasori wondered as to whether Deidara was actually a magician. He watched the minutes tick by with Kaori and Hikari throwing themselves and their stories into a Deidara who only nodded and laughed and stuck random comments here and there. It was like magic. Either that or the kid had more charisma than Sasori ever credited him with. They had a few more drinks, nothing too hard.
"Listen, I promised Sasori here that we're all going to have fun. So, if you both don't come with us now, I'm going to get in trouble with him. But then again, I'm always in trouble with him, so I don't know why I even bother anymore." Kaori threw herself at him, trying to hold him closer.
"Don't leave. You're amazing." Her voice was tinged with alcohol. Hikari whimpered.
"We'll do it. Right, Kaori?"
"Of course."
Deidara grinned. Sasori wondered as to whether the girls realized they had fallen straight for his trap. Probably not. "Out we go, then, un."
Then they were gone. Deidara checked into a nearby motel, sober still and straight-faced despite the brunette clinging to his neck. Hikari was leaning on to Sasori as they walked. When Sasori entered the room, which Deidara left open, Deidara already had Kaori up against the wall, their tongues dancing together, her legs around his waist. His eyes were glued to Sasori as he kissed her and set her down the nearby bed gently. Then Deidara put his arms around Hikari, one around her shoulders, the other supporting her legs in the tradition bridal-style of carrying a woman. He locked his mouth with hers for several seconds before plopping her beside an intoxicated Kaori.
"There are rules, un." Deidara took two white handkerchiefs from his pockets. "Neither of you sees anything. But rest assured, both of you will feel everything." He tied them tightly around Kaori's eyes first before doing the same to Hikari.
"You're not fond of this dress, are you, un?" Deidara asked.
"No, please, just rip it off already." Kaori whined. Deidara had the mouth of his hands strapped to the back of her neck, lapping on her skin. The whimpering sounds that came from her proved that they were quite effective.
"And you, Hikari?"
"I always hated this dress." She blurted out. Sasori knew it was a lie. She said earlier that it was her favourite. And with good reason, too; it looked absolutely perfect on her. Nevertheless, Deidara did as he pleased.
"If you both insist." Deidara took out a switch blade and ran it down Kaori's dress from the inside, ripping it to shreds, leaving her clothed only in her underwear. Deidara didn't even stop to notice her gentle curves or her small stomach. Sasori noted how disappointed this made Kaori, to be ignored like that. Next, he tore away Kaori's dress and used the cloth to secure their wrists to the bed's metal frame. He tied them as expertly as any boy scout.
"Switch blade?" Sasori raised a questioning brow."
"Self-defence," Deidara laughed in spite of himself.
"Right." A small smile slipped on Sasori. He was relieved that Deidara didn't seem to notice. Deidara kicked the door close, not bothering to lock it, and stood before Sasori, meeting his eyes. "They're rather intoxicated, aren't they?" Sasori muttered.
"Just a little drunk, really. I didn't let them drunk too much, un."
"I wasn't talking about the alcohol." I was talking about you. They're drunk on you. Sasori kept the last part to himself, though Deidara got the message anyway. But he did nothing to acknowledge this. Instead, he shoved two fingers into Sasori's mouth. "What was that about?" Sasori narrowed his eyes at him. Deidara glanced at his fingers for a short second before wiping them on his pants.
"You've got a tongue, un. Use it."
Sasori watched Deidara saunter back into the bed and work his craft. His lips entered Kaori's welcoming mouth without hesitation and easily overpowered her. He got Hikari up to speed with only the mouth of his right hand. Deidara motioned for Sasori to take over, but he did nothing at first. Eventually, he succumbed to it and pushed away Deidara's hand from Hikari. He took it slow at first, as if it were his first time to do this. Still, his eyes were wide open and set on Deidara as he made quick work of Kaori. It may have taken ten, twenty, or even thirty minutes before they were both done and the girls fell asleep, clearly exhausted despite not having done any of the work.
"Shouldn't we kill them? They're bound to tell someone what happened." Sasori asked nonchalantly. They had left the two girls in the motel, not bothering to so much as untie their bonds. Deidara laughed.
"They will tell everyone they know, I'm sure of it. They're young and they're girls. It's in their nature." Deidara shrugged.
"Pein will slaughter me for this." Sasori muttered. But even as he said this, he realized that he didn't care. Neither did Deidara.
It was well past midnight and they were two seemingly young men walking down a narrow paved street that looked at least two hundred years old. Deidara was looking up at the sky; Sasori could swear he could walk into a pole at any given moment.
"Has anyone ever told you that the loudest thing in the world is silence? You can sleep through your sensei's lecture or even your dog howling, but you'll never be able to ignore complete silence. There's something about it that unnerves the human mind. For as long as those girls tell their stories, no matter what those stories are, no one will be suspicious. It's the kind of thing that happens all the time.
Sasori sighed. Deidara's logic was warped, and maybe not at all true, but it had gotten him through eighteen years of life. Sasori figured it was worth a shot.
A/N: Slightly unrelated to the others, but the latter part was the one shot I wrote before but never posted. Since the fic was named after it, I decided to squeeze it in. I don't want to give this fic an M rating, so here's hoping this one is clean enough to stay T. There's about two or three chapters left in Part I, so bear with me. I promise everything will be revealed in Part II.
