A/N: No elaborating my excuses this time. I've just been busy. :D I feel like this chapter is okay. Maybe a little incongruous with the previous one. But, I wanted to finish it today. :3 So I typed like a madman. Enjoy... ya know... if you want. Don't feel obligated. 3 Reviews make me happy, and you are all so wonderful. Mehh... I just wish I had some motivation to work on my Sylvanas Windrunner FF. Anywhore, here is the update.

Chapter 4

Ephemeral

The sunlight overhead was a welcome change. The soft warmth given off from the rays as they enveloped Deidara's body forced away the eternal chill that was always lingering in a cruel halo around him.

Deidara glanced down at his plate: a light salad, no dressing, and three sliced apples. Tobi gazed intently at him, his eyes refusing to leave Deidara until he forced the food past his lips.

But, Deidara couldn't bring himself to eat. Food was the enemy. Food was an abomination. To eat what sat before him was to allow evil to enter his body.

And then, there was that stubborn thought, the idea that refused to leave his mind. Tobi had told Deidara that he loved him. The words didn't register right away; they hadn't seemed real at the time. However, as Deidara underwent another silent black limousine ride with Tobi, he realized that Tobi had said them—not only that, he realized that Tobi was serious.

He can't love me… there's just no way. He doesn't even know me.

"Is everything alright?" As if on cue, the now-cloaked Tobi asked, almost seeming to sense Deidara's unease.

"Yeah," Deidara chuckled, though the sound came out dark and brittle. "I'm fine."

Tobi regarded him solemnly for a moment; they both knew that Deidara was not fine, but Tobi didn't try to pry any further.

"So, how is your food?" Tobi switched tactics. Clever. Bringing all attention to the food while also attempting to guilt me into eating… I'm not about to acquiesce so easily.

Deidara grinned, wild fire lighting up his eyes. Tobi had put him in a sour mood, and, up until now, Deidara had given Tobi no resistance—he had made no attempt to fight him back. It was time for Deidara to remind Tobi that he wasn't just another complacent child.

"You want the truth?" Deidara smiled innocently. Deidara's hand flashed out, sending the bowl flying off the table—the apple slices plummeting toward the ground.

Tobi almost seemed to flicker, his form appearing to suddenly shift between realities, and, within the span of a single heartbeat, all of the food was returned to the table—even the apple slices were once more arranged perfectly on the white plate.

"Are you done?" Tobi asked. He sounded unimpressed, almost bored. This only fueled Deidara's fires, but the fight was gone. Piercing chills gripped Deidara; whatever Tobi had just done, it wasn't human… it was otherworldly.

"What… how did… and you…" Deidara couldn't speak. Tobi had shamed him. Completely. He had taken what was supposed to be an outburst of rebellion twisted it—morphed it into the equivalent a child's tantrum.

"Look," Tobi chuckled, "I understand you want to feel like you are still in control, but, frankly, the moment you agreed to what I offered you, you changed your fate forever."

"You don't know that…" Deidara mumbled, "You think you know me, don't you? You think you know all about my past? You think that, somehow, you can just rearrange my fate? Like you can pluck the strings of time and just make everything evil in my life disappear? Well guess what? You don't and you can't. You don't know me at all. So stop pretending like you can just reach inside my mind and sift through my thoughts like the pages of a book."

"Who says I can't do that?" Tobi countered, his voice a mirror of calm. "You have no idea what I can do."

"You act like you're some god among men. Well I have news for you. You are just like everybody else. When cut, you bleed. When poisoned, you become ill. When hurt, you will suffer. These are the edicts of life and death—the ways of the world; do not act as if you can defy them."

"And what if I told you I could? Would you believe me?"

Deidara regarded Tobi in silence, their eyes locked in what seemed to be an eternal struggle; fire and ice both vying for power over the other.

"No. Such things don't happen. Only in dreams can we achieve the impossible. I'm done. Take me home."

"By home, do you mean the penthouse… or are you referring to Sasori's."

"The penthouse," Deidara sighed, "Although, Sasori's place almost sounds better right about now."

Tobi slammed his hands down on the table, the force of the impact causing a fracture to open up in the middle of the wood-like plastic. His knuckles were snow white, the pressure he exerted as he gripped the table forcing all of the blood from his hands.

"Never say that again." Tobi eyed Deidara, crimson flaring up; his irises twisting into pools of boiling rage.

Despite the sun, a chill found its way down Deidara's spine. It was the first time Deidara had ever seen Tobi lose his calm.

"I'm sorry." Tobi realized his mistake, but Deidara wasn't about to forgive him now. For the first time, Tobi had given Deidara a reason to be afraid of him. Things weren't supposed to be like this; he was supposed to be free from all of the rage and anger—it was all left behind with Sasori.

"I'll take you home…"

"I wasn't always this way… There was a time… long, long ago… when I, too, was alive…"

"You aren't alive anymore?" Konan's words were soft… each syllable enveloping Deidara in a calming light.

"No… no, no, no… I haven't been alive for a long time."

"Why? What happened to make you this way?"

Deidara's eyes met Konan's. Her amber gaze regarded him evenly, a curious yet wounded look surfacing from the depths of those irises.

"You want to know what happened…?" there was no warmth in the words, only a cold and brittle undertone. "I—"

"I think I could explain things a little better…" The voice sent Deidara's mind into a panic; the entire world flickering into blackness for a moment. The warm light from Konan died out.

"Sasori," Konan said darkly, "I highly suggest you leave this place."

"And why should I do that? Are you going to force me to?"

"Do not test me." Konan warned. "You know what I can do. Leave now or I will put an end to your miserable existence. Permanently."

"Very well," Sasori sighed. Suddenly, a cruel smile formed upon his lips. "If I am to die, I shall at least take him with me. Hell is such a lonely place."

Deidara couldn't move. With a heavy heart, he felt the familiar pull of the strings; Sasori had taken ahold of him once more.

"Konan… don't fight him…" Deidara sighed. "It will only make things worse."

"Deidara, what do you mean? Has this happened before?"

"I—"

"He doesn't need to answer to scum like you," Sasori interjected. "Now, Konan, are you going to leave us, or will I have to turn things ugly?"

"Fine. I will leave." Konan paused, her eyes locking onto Deidara's with a fierce gaze. "You will never be free of him unless you allow yourself to be. Just remember that Deidara."

Konan faded away. The world faded away. Deidara's senses faded away. His body faded away. Everything faded away until only Sasori remained. There was only Sasori… As it has always been…

Deidara's eyes flickered open, and he groaned in pain. His stomach hurt—he hadn't eaten anything since he had arrived with Tobi; he had rejected the only opportunity that had been presented to him to eat.

However, Deidara didn't resent the pain; in fact, he relished in it. No one seemed to understand that power that starvation gave him. When hunger overtook him, the primordial instinct of survival flooded in with it. Adrenaline kicked in, and all of his senses were enhanced. Anorexia didn't make him weak, it made him strong.

It gave him the powers of a god.

His mind, however, was still numb. He had replayed the scenario over and over in his head, but, no matter what angle he looked at it, he couldn't figure out what Tobi had done.

And now Sasori is lying in wait, lurking in the darkness until I drift off to sleep so he can tear the fabric of my dreams and morph them into nightmares… but… why was Konan in this one? And what was it she said… 'You will never be free of him unless you allow yourself to be.'

The words were still something of an enigma to Deidara. He wasn't quite sure what Konan meant.

Could she have meant Tobi?

Deidara shivered at the thought.

No, of course not. She doesn't even know Tobi. You aren't making any sense.

He was lost. Once again, he was trapped in the dark with no light to guide him. The flame of Tobi that had once been a blazing sun was now little more than a dim spark, and, if he were to misstep, it would be extinguished beneath his bare feet; the brief pain would be the last reminder that Tobi had ever been in his life.

His throat hurt. With a sigh, Deidara realized he was thirsty. Deidara despised unnecessary discomfort; he was already in a state of suspended animation, what point where there in suffering further?

He didn't know where the kitchen was—he didn't really have the vaguest idea where anything was—but there was one place he knew he could navigate his foggy self to: the bathroom.

Deidara stood up—he hated how faint and lightheaded starvation made him feel—his mind spinning, and, stepping forward with extreme caution, Deidara slowly began to shuffle towards the bathroom.

He felt weightless. The faintest breeze could lift him off his feet, carry him out the window, and deposit him into the sky. From there, Deidara could do whatever he wanted. He would be free to travel the world and leave all of the darkness that held him chained to the city behind forever.

Sadly, he knew that this was impossible. Bones were too heavy. He could starve away his skin. He could starve away his muscle. He could starve away his organs. But, in the end, bones were simply adamant; they clung to their existence just as much as Deidara clung to his fabrications and falsities.

I have spider legs. I am light, elegant, and fragile. Each move I make is of the utmost precision and acuteness. There is never a misplaced footstep. As I walk, I weave my story behind me out of the purest silken threads. Threads of silver. These will carry on, they will be a lasting monument… or perhaps… they, too, will fade. But, they will fade in a burst of radiance. Each silver thread will shatter, sliver upon sliver being scattered into the air in a mercurial maelstrom. And I will be immortalized in that moment. That single moment. I will become an eternity… or something more.

Crash.

The bathroom door slammed against his head. Deidara slowly blinked his eyes. He must have lost a few minutes, slipped out of reality for a few heartbeats. He longed to close his eyes again, but he couldn't. Not yet. He had work to do.

He pushed the door open. It didn't resist. The handle wasn't hooked into its resting place. He floated forward, his feet almost not touching the ground. Almost.

I am not yet empty. Water is weight. Weight is restrictive. I am rooted down by the elements, it would seem.

Deidara closed the door, slowly turning the lock into place.

"Now," Deidara sighed. "I need a shower… and a drink."

Deidara slipped off his clothes: a long T-shirt and underwear. He didn't remember putting them on. He didn't remember falling asleep either.

Turning on the water, Deidara scarcely flinched as the jets of freezing liquid bombarded his face and body. The cold was welcoming, although he resented it. Unlike warmth, the cold made Deidara feel alive… human… yet, somehow, he still felt like another being. Something much more powerful.

An elf? A witch? A mage? A siren of eternal life? It didn't matter. With winter came the cold, and that was of no importance. Winter merely reflected Deidara's insides to the outside world.

For one moment, he was not a broken and world-weary slut who had nothing to cling to but a masked man he barely even knew. No, for one moment, he was his own being; an all-powerful, eternal goddess of winter and bone.

The spell was broken as the warm water cascaded down around him, washing away the last of the permafrost that clung to his skin.

Dreamers.

Deidara meticulously began the ordeal of washing his hair, spreading the shampoo evenly through the silk growing from his head.

Liars.

Deidara washed it out, his eyes tracing the frothing bubbles' path as they streamed down his body and slowly disappeared into the whirlpool beneath his feet.

Falsifiers.

Deidara spread conditioner through his hair, each handful coating his hair in a tender embrace.

Deceivers.

It washed down his spine, no doubt filling his eager pores with a slurry of muck and grime. The world was fuzzy.

Evil.

Deidara shut off the cold completely, the warm water turning scalding, his flesh bubbling and peeling as the water met his body. The world flickered.

Monster…

Deidara turned the water hotter. His body screamed for mercy. The world was tearing around the edges.

Begone…

Deidara shut his eyes, the tang of blood rising in his mouth as his teeth clamped down on his tongue. His flesh was numb. The world was growing smaller.

Leviathan…

He couldn't breathe. He couldn't see. He couldn't hear. He couldn't feel his body. He slowly sawed the last chain. Reality flickered.

Acclaim…

Deidara grabbed the razor, smashing the connected blades with a heavy bottle of soap. He delicately picked up one of the bent razor edges, his eyes locking with his blurred reflection in the shower door. Reality was darkening.

Demonic…

He carefully traced the groves around his collar bones with the razor, blood spilling out as the razor forced its path. The blood gleamed scarlet for a moment before being swept off his skin and down the drain by the burning water in a pink river, new waves of agony erupting as the molten water poured into the wounds. He was but a candle in darkness.

Blood…

Deidara carved under his ribs now, more blood and more pain striding hand and hand from his being with each slit. A wind had picked up. His flame flickered.

Sanctity…

Deidara etched deep groves into his hip bones, blood welling up and pain leaking out with it. He leaned forward and turned off the water. He had done it… he was pure… he was…

Darkness.

The wind blew out the candle.

His eyes didn't want to open. To open his eyes meant to face reality.

He wasn't ready.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

There was white all around him, which was strange. Tobi's penthouse was black…

Silvery structures gleamed above him.

He must be in paradise…

Knock. Knock. Knock… Deidara?

No…

This isn't fantasy anymore… this is a shower.

Deidara sat up, black spots dancing across his vision as he did. Slumber threatened to rise from the drugged depths and pull him back under into a numb existence.

Knock. Knock. Knock… Deidara? Deidara!

He tried to push open the shower door. It wouldn't budge. His arms hurt. He was too weak.

Oh well… I guess I could stay trapped in here…

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Deidara? Deidara!"

Deidara stopped…

Was that… real?

"Deidara? Deidara! Deidara are you in there?"

Tobi?

"Yes, it's me! Are you alright? I'm coming in there."

No.

"What? I can sense that you are hurt. I smell… oh no… is that blood?

Blood? What?
"No…"

"I'm coming in," Tobi called out.

"No."

"Hold on, I can break down the door."

"No!"

"Just one more moment."

"NO!"

The glass shattered. The door splintered into shrapnel. The mirror fractured across the middle.

Tears streamed down Deidara's face.

"It's you. I know it is! Stop using such demonic powers against me… you want me dead. You don't love me, you hate me… you hate what I am. You are no different from Sasori!"

"Deidara," Tobi said, his voice filled with awe, "I didn't do anything…"

"Yes you—"

"—I didn't do that… that… was you." Tobi said, a smile slowly gracing his lips.

The smile faded as his eyes glanced down and beheld Deidara's mutilated body.

"No… Fuck… You… Your skin… Your body…"

Tobi's crimson eyes, worry pooling in their depths, was the last image that was burned into his mind as darkness overtook him.

SoleixDeidara

~And I'll cry and cry and cry... over the love of you~ Florence + The Machine.