The student and the demon were traipsing through the woods, twigs snapping under their feet as their voices carried in the crisp air.
It was afternoon, and yet a swirl of mist still clung to the ground. It gave this charmed woodland an even more ethereal feel.
Deidara placed a coffee cup to his head, the warmth radiating against his skull. Sasori shot a smirk at the blond.
"I can't believe you brought that with you."
"Why not, un? Keeping me warm, for one thing."
Sasori glanced towards the skies, seeing a bird zip over the tree-line.
It was actually kind of…relaxing, just walking in the forest. The demon loved retreating to his cavern and it was hard to prise him out of it. After all, his domain was created for everything he needed - first and foremost his art. Yet Sasori couldn't deny he felt pretty peaceful right now.
At least, that was until the puppeteer felt the sculptor's eyes boring into the back of his head; it made him uncomfortable. Clearing his throat, the Sasori turned back to see the blond wearing a heightened expression.
His eyelids heavy, the demon knew where this conversation was heading before Deidara even opened those lips.
"…You sure you want to do it tomorrow night, un?"
"…" Sasori was momentarily silent, before nodding once. He had clarity, and felt strangely relieved that the decisive arrangement was made.
Last night he had been agitated with contemplating the decision he had to make, over, and over…
Deidara gripped his coffee cup tighter in response. 'Kay. Tomorrow it was. Something else was probing at him, though.
"…How come you've never tried this before, un? I mean…you've been trapped here for hundreds of years…Why not before now, un?"
The artist had thought about as he lay in bed the day before, the hangover weighing the student down. The thoughts tumbled around the sculptor's head, feeling shaken.
Sasori tugged a hand through his hair; it stuck up at odd angles at the back as he replied.
"You forget I was barely cognisant for a lot of that. I was in state of stasis for a long time. When I woke up…I found ways to manage. It's not the worst place to be stuck."
Deidara hn'd, taking a sip off his coffee. He had to agree; he could think of worse places. The woods were also less alarming in the daylight.
Coming towards the end of this weekend, they had scheme devised. The two men's plan comprised of destroying the seal on the heart. Deidara listened as Sasori explained the magic binding him. The puppeteer's voice was steely as he educated the art student.
"Its not a case of simply ripping it off, like a bandage. It's imprinted on me; I can't remove it - it would require someone to release the hold on me. The caster would be preferable, however…" The redhead hesitated.
The sculptor gave a snarky response, understanding the implication in the demon's words. "Oh what, I'll do?"
Sasori pursed his lips together. "In a meaning, yes. You'll do."
Deidara nudged his eyebrows in response, his eyes shining.
"Ok, so - then what?"
"I said it before, it could be dangerous. It's a powerful, otherwise it wouldn't be so robust at keeping me here." Sasori turned to the sculptor, his voice dropping. "It's going to feel like it is pulling you in too."
Deidara felt ingrained to the ground, his body still as he took in what the redhead imparted.
"You have to find a way that it doesn't succeed." Sasori continued.
The puppeteer was next astounded at how quickly Deidara grinned, bearing his teeth back at the redhead.
"T'ch. Easy. I know just the thing, un."
Sasori hoped this was not overconfidence. He opened his mouth to chide the younger man, yet fell short, taking in the student's countenance. The puppeteer felt strangely apart from his own being.
He watched, yet didn't quite take in, as Deidara began espousing his ideas for negating the effect of destroying the seal. The blond spoke with animated hand gestures, grasping hands.
The demon realised he was smiling. It was enjoyable seeing the artist so enlivened. He supposed he would see what Deidara would do at the time. Feeling a genuine warmth in his chest, Sasori placed a finger and thumb up to his lip, pressing the soft skin against the digits.
After a while, they made it to the edge of the woods. There was a pause as Deidara crossed the the unseen boundary of the demon's seal.
The blond focused on the redhead as he loitered, not quite wanting to leave the woods yet.
Sasori folded his arms, however his face was amiable.
"You're like a lost puppy." The puppeteer called out. He nudged a stone with the tip of his shoe.
Deidara's lips twitched. He acknowledged the loftiness of the demon's approach.
No matter how much Sasori might try to persuade Deidara not to worry about him, that he was usually at in his element in the woods…deep down, the blond could sense that the demon was pretty damn lonely.
The student could read it in the puppeteer's whole essence, even right now, as the older man stared back at him. Despite his years, Sasori could be easily be a kid, lost for affection, for all the depth of wanting that was plain to see in his eyes.
The blond stepped back over the unseen seal's line and hastened straight up to the redhead, grasping against his face and kissing him deeply.
Sasori pulled him in close, wrapping his arm around the sculptor's hip.
Deidara's breath was ragged as he finally pulled away from Sasori.
Their faces were still mere inches apart, gaze aflame. The sculptor felt so enthralled by this demon, he could set the world alight for Sasori.
As he eventually walked back to his dorm, the blond thought wistfully how grateful he was for the wood's initial call, from his first foray - leading him to where he was now. There was some magic in that place all right.
The next night, Deidara wrapped his hair into a chunky braid, pulling it from his scarf. He laced his boots, feeling a similar sense of déjà vu, once again creeping out of his dorm.
His heart thudded this evening. He kept telling himself it was fine, everything was going to be fine; however his body grumbled in response, reminding the student something was different about tonight.
If everything was to go to plan, this may even be the last time he had to sneak off into the woods.
With that pleasant scenario in mind, the sculptor felt more lively as he bounced down the steps and out into the cool night air.
He took a breath, walking round the corner of the building, when-
"Lovely night for a stroll?"
A voice cut across his path.
Deidara's felt his innards nearly be pulled from the inside out. "Y'argh!" He exclaimed, clutching his backpack strap and taking a step back.
In the dim campus street light, he clocked Itachi leaning against the wall, staring straight at him.
"Itachi, what the fuck are you doing, un?"
"Maybe I should ask you the same thing."
Deidara shook with a mixture of rage and disorientation. Itachi seemed stiff, like he had been outside a long time. Was he…waiting for me?
Stunned, that thought flittered around the sculptor's brain.
The Uchiha was astute, amazing at figuring things out - look at how clocked the relationship between Hidan and Kakuzu when they thought they were being discrete, the blond acknowledged.
He had probably noticed or heard Deidara sneaking out - it was an often occurrence, after all.
Once he calmed down a tad, the blond attempted to temper the situation.
"What does it matter? So I go out at night, un. Most of us are basically nocturnal by this point - library, bar - makes no difference, un." The art student noted he was babbling - perhaps he had not calmed himself enough.
"…" The raven was silent for a while, eyes protuberant.
Eventually, he spoke up. "Did you think I wouldn't notice where you were going each night?"
The sculptor's nose wrinkled.
"I didn't realise you were policing me, un." Deidara called out, the accusatory tone running through his sentence. He shuffled closer, eyeing the Uchiha.
Itachi jerked his head and looked to the left. He looked as he was considering his words before speaking, hesitating.
"I'm concerned about you. What you think you're doing." His tone was less icy.
Itachi was one of his closest friends, if not the closest. The art student thought on the raven's words. He was always reaching out to him if he thought Deidara was troubled…
The sculptor ventured to placate the Uchiha. "…Don't worry about me Itachi, I'm all good, un. I need headspace - going into the woods helps with inspiration, un."
He upturned his tone. "You should see how good the red clay looks on my newest sculptures, un." Deidara figured there was no point pretending he wasn't going into the woods, especially if Itachi knew the intended destination. Giving up some more piecemeal information might be enough to cover his foray. He could insist he needed to go alone, for his artistic endeavours, musings…hell, it was true initially for his trips into the woods.
Itachi crossed his arms.
"Wouldn't it look even clearer in the daylight…?" His tone was deadpan. "Or does he only come out at night?
Startled, Deidara let the bag fall off his shoulder with a thud.
Rattled, he brushed his long fringe away, so he could stare Itachi dead in the eyes.
"What…?" The blond spoke in a harsh whisper. How did he know about Sasori?!
Surely, he couldn't…
However, the stony face that Itachi shot back at him confirmed it for Deidara.
He did know.
The blond rubbed the back of his neck, turning on his heel to face away from the Uchiha momentarily. He felt a flare of discontent, it began to bubble rapidly.
He needed to get going - Sasori would be expecting him, and if he didn't show - the demon might think Deidara had changed his mind.
The sculptor really did not want to keep the demon waiting over something so imperative.
Why the hell did this run-in with Itachi have to happen tonight, of all nights?! How long had the Uchiha even held this card to his chest?
Deidara whipped back to confront the raven, pleading with his friend.
"I don't know what you think you saw, but it's none of your concern, un." He sallowed. "I get you might be confused, but you need to back off here and let me deal with it."
Itachi uncrossed his arms and strode over the blond. He gripped a hand either side of Deidara's upper arms.
"I didn't know exactly what you were doing in the woods the first time I saw you go in. I did not want to follow you then; you'd have heard me anyway."
The Uchiha had an intense expression as he continued on his tirade. "But then yesterday, I saw you coming out of there, with him. The redhead. And it became clearer…"
Deidara's words caught in his throat. He eyed his friend. Despite the chilly night, the sculptor felt sweat on his chest.
"I encouraged you before to go for what you want. But…if you're meeting someone in the middle of the night in the forest…isn't that ringing any alarm bells for you? If you haven't told any of us about him, and you keep sneaking out to meet him - surely, surely you can see the madness?"
"No, he's just…" Deidara licked the tip of his tongue against his teeth, thinking quickly. He could hardly tell Itachi that Sasori was a hundreds of year old spirit demon, could he…
Doing the best he could in an unprepared situation, the sculptor settled on "…He's just someone who needs my help, un."
Itachi's fingernails dug into the blond's jacket in kickback to his words.
"What is making you do?" He spoke tersely.
Having finally had enough, Deidara threw Itachi's hands off his arms, shoving the Uchiha from him.
"No-one makes me do anything, Itachi. Not even you, un." The blond was scathing in his response.
Throwing a dirty look at the Uchiha, the sculptor turned away and stormed off. He didn't set off in a direct path towards the woods; he wanted to shake off the raven should the other man decide to follow him.
"This is going to explode in your face, Deidara." Itachi called to his retreating figure.
The blond shook his head with a jerk. He was agitated, and buried the sick, white hot feeling he had. He felt horrible; he and Itachi had been close for the last couple of years. Guilty thoughts peppered those of anger as he tried to reconcile what had just happened.
He was furious with Itachi's interference…however, a part of him knew Itachi's intervention was sincere.
It was suspicious, to an insider looking in. How many times had Itachi looked out for him before?
And now, he felt even worse for the exchange with his friend.
Deidara felt like he wanted to retch.
Forcing the feeling down, he marched on, reaching the tree-line from another angle. It meant a longer walk to the redhead's cave, but despite his earlier eagerness to charge ahead, Deidara now felt his steps falter.
With each rustle through the leaves, he felt doubt creep in.
Was Itachi…right? Was Sasori making him do any of this?
He wanted this too, didn't he? To set the puppeteer free from his bond, to explore more together, be more together…
But what if he was being lead astray?
Their first meeting swam before his azure eyes. The fright that meeting Sasori brought. Slowly, trusting the puppeteer, even after knowing more depth to his actions.
Even the darkest actions.
The brain-worm felt like an intrusion, piercing through his ideal with Sasori. And yet it dug in, festering as he trudged through the forest.
Could he be getting way in over his head? Blinded by amorous feeling, intention.
Was he losing himself to the demon?