Peaches
"Immortality."
.
Tobi cringed.
"Fucking Uchihas! Damn Itachi and that pathetic clan!"
Deidara was storming down the dim halls, a few paces in front of Tobi. Said masked man did not utter a word, following his partner through the underground corridors of their base. And with each scream Deidara was shouting, Tobi felt more and more drained of energy.
"If I was only a little bit stronger, I'd finish off those mongrels for good, hm. Every last one of them. Do you know who that includes, Tobi? It should have been me to wipe out the clan," Deidara didn't even wait for a reply, "I despise the Sharingan and anyone who is proud to possess that ability. Rip out their eyes and what are you left with? A weak, defenceless creature cowering behind the Uchiha name! Without their bloodline, they would be nothing!"
Tobi would have laughed if it was anyone else cursing his clan. He would have laughed – laughed with all of his might – before slicing their heads clean off. The Uchiha's wouldn't be mocked. But this was Deidara. This was different. Tobi understood Deidara's hatred; it was something he had always understood.
What would happen if he grabbed Deidara's jaw and leaned down, whispering his dirty, little secret into his senpai's ear? If he revealed everything in a single moment? If he could just say, "Itachi wasn't alone the night of the massacre", what would happen?
The arsonist was just that, a man who found thrill in this real world. Rather than wanting to change the system, like Tobi did, the bomber embraced it. Art made Hell beautiful, in the terrorist's eyes. Deidara was a very proud man. He held far more pride than any Uchiha Tobi had come across, even Madara. This appealed to Tobi. Deidara's strong personality was far more attractive than any shinobi with a strong arm. Unfortunately, this attraction was beginning to take its toll.
With each passing day, he was growing weak. Deidara was stripping him of his cold walls, ones that sheltered his soul from situations like this. Hearing those harsh words ooze out of Deidara's mouth so freely, impulsively, it made the Uchiha want to run. To get away from the world, as fast as his feet could carry him. Fight or flight was usually never a question to him. Yet, this young killer, a youth caught somewhere between boy and man, had his insticts paralyzed.
If only Deidara did not hate his blood, maybe then Tobi could carelessly throw away his plan and woo him. The project was all that mattered, for years that was what Tobi believed. It surprised him, how these... feelings could make him forget about something he'd spent his entire life perfecting.
Tobi was nothing, he was no one; Deidara was a masterpiece.
Tobi did not want to feel, because when he did, this was what came to him: all these conflicted, confused feelings clouding his judgement. It was far too late to take a step back, because Tobi had leapt off the cliff and reached the other side. Deidara meant more to him than anything else in this world. For the first time in over a decade, Tobi did not know what to do. He was at a loss. His once collected, assured mind had been broken, just as his soul began its attempt to rebuild itself. The hole in his chest was mending; the whole in his head was breaking. Those brief moments with Deidara, where he felt some compassion directed his way, were his most treasured memories.
Hateful, destructive words continued to flow out of Deidara's mouth, each one making Tobi even more anxious. This was troubling. Tobi did not know what to do: win over Deidara, or let him die and continue with the plan. Choosing to let Deidara die would be the easy way out. If Tobi wanted to, he could do it. He could let him die. That was what Deidara always suggested, wasn't it? The boy's true desire was to end at his ripest. Tobi bit his lip. The thought of losing his artist only nauseated him.
Tobi could easily win him; it was a matter of careful steps. Courting was a human instinct that came naturally. Tobi spent his entire life watching people from afar, and for half of it, he observed and played with humanity under the watchful eye of a legend. Someone like Deidara, who thrived off attention, would not be too tricky. It was the matter of Deidara's hatred for the Sharingan that would serve as an obstacle. Beyond that, his final genjutsu would also trap Deidara, if the moon eye project was successful. Should Deidara ever return his affections, it would be regrettable.
Hesitating, Tobi swallowed the lump in throat, "Don't you think you're overreacting?"
"You know it's true, hm."
His throat was dry.
"I don't know what I hate more, the Sharingan, or the Uchiha name."
He was shaking.
"One day I'll be the one to prove Itachi wrong. I'll show him and his dead relatives the true power of art."
What would Deidara do if he found out Tobi's true identity? Hate him even more. There was no amount of sugar that could sweeten up this cursed mind of his. Even someone like Deidara, who could look past a shinobi's strength, was unforgiving to the kekkei genkai that overturned his life.
Tobi did not want a fake Deidara made from a genjutsu. This one – the real one – planted a seed into his soul and grew to be an immortal peach tree.
He hated seeing the humiliation and hurt roaring through Deidara's voice. The bomber's art was ridiculed by the Sharingan, which was a direct blow to reality. Tobi promised himself he would protect Deidara, be it from a lethal sword or painful nightmares. Behind that swirly, orange mask, his expression contorted to one of sorrow and regret. The blue-eyed boy was hurting, and Tobi was directly at fault.
He was the one who requested for the infamous terrorist of Iwagakure to join the Akatsuki. It was because of him Deidara was angry, even though the boy didn't know it. He was selfish, though, and believed that if Deidara hadn't joined the organization, Tobi would have never met him. At least the Akatsuki helped the artist grow stronger and gave him more direct experience.
Tobi wrapped two strong arms around Deidara's smaller body, pulling him close. This was risky, but he couldn't contain himself any longer. 'Tobi' was always touch-y feel-y, but never with such sincerity. In an attempt to make up for his strange behaviour, Tobi whispered, "Deidara-senpai, you should think of happier things. Add some sugar."
Feeling the tense muscles of Deidara's back pressed against his chest, Tobi was secretly dying in bliss. Even more so when his senpai chose not to yell at him, but rather say, "Ri – r – right, hm."
And that wonderful tic, that small sound he made at the end of every other one of his sentences. It gave him chills. Every sound, breathy noise, or gentle gasp Deidara made turned Tobi's legs to jelly. Who could imagine that he, the one who would one day bring the world to its knees, would give his soul to the boy before him?
"Can I keep hugging you, senpai?"
Deidara suddenly pushed off of him, "No! I'm not a weak baby that needs comforting!"
Enjoying the sight of tinged cheeks, Tobi smiled, disregarding the lingering pain in his chest.
It was dinner time.
As unusual as it was for ten of the strongest mass murderers to sit down over a kotatsu table and eat like respectable citizens, it happened on certain occasions. The Akatsuki members were nomadic, only occasionally getting together for several days every season, to Pein's request. It was an opportunity to have meetings, as every member could throw in their input for future plans and rest in the process. It was especially difficult gathering even two pairs of partners together. It was harder still getting such ruthless killers to sit down and dine together. It was even harder, to deal with Hidan. Every member could collectively agree on that.
To Deidara's left, Kakuzu sat quietly, eating a bowl of rice. Pein had smartly seated Hidan and Itachi away from him, something he was extremely grateful for. Both men frustrated the bomber to insane levels. He swore if he had to hear another comment about Jashin or see another beady pair of red eyes staring at him, Deidara was going to flip tables. It was when he was surrounded by the rest of the Akatsuki, did he truly appreciate having Tobi as his partner. Imagining Hidan, Itachi, or the money obsessed Kakuzu for a teammate had him shrivel up. Deidara grimaced. No thanks. That didn't mean the Tobi-brat didn't annoy him! All he was saying was that it could have been worse.
Speaking of Tobi, he had chosen to sit in front of him, and was currently blabbering about something or another to Zetsu. Seeing the stupid, swirly, orange mask stuck to that even more stupid head pissed him off. Tobi had grown attached to him, cared about him, and was being nice to him. Deidara did not want this sort of attention. He wanted the idiot to be a good partner on the battlefield, but also keep a decent, respectful distance away otherwise. Deidara didn't like intimacy like Tobi did.
Deidara stared into his bowl of steaming rice, ignoring the queasy turns in his stomach. He felt sick, and it was all his fault. Deidara could still feel the man's built arms wrapped around his torso, the broad chest pressed softly against his back, and still hear Tobi throw his own words right back at him.
Why did Tobi care anyways?
Oh, that's right, the brat worried about everyone. Deidara sighed.
"You're rather quiet today, Deidara," Zetsu had spoken, voice cutting through the light chatter at the table.
A single blue eye narrowed, and the arsonist glowered at the two-coloured plant, "Pass me a peach."
"I'll do it, senpai!"
Deidara's glare darkened. He did not want to associate with Tobi right now. Just his luck, Deidara found himself staring into a pair of red eyes. A pair of beautiful, disgusting eyes that deserved to be shredded and burned to the pits off hell. Those damned Sharingan eyes. Itachi had some nerve – if the other members weren't present, Deidara would have challenged the Uchiha tyke right then and there.
With an eye blazing and promising bloody murder to Itachi, he licked his drying lips. If anyone was going to stare at him so blatantly, they would do it in respect or admiration. Deidara ignored the hand. Fucking Uchiha, he thought, rising to his feet. Not once breaking eye contact with his rival, Deidara excused himself, "I'm heading to bed. Thanks for the food."
Pein nodded in his direction, which was a sign of acceptance. Deidara left without another word.
vvv
Deidara was lying down in his room, staring at his dark ceiling. It was made of thick stone, jagged and uneven. The entire base was created from the minerals of nearby mountains, somehow squeezed underground and carved to form a respectable hideout.
Deidara huffed.
As much as he really, really, really hated to admit it, Tobi was right. Deidara had overreacted, just a little. But it wasn't like he could help it! Every time Deidara set eyes on Itachi, his blood began boiling, as if preparing to set off for the biggest explosion yet.
The door to his room opened, and Deidara could guess who it was before he even looked. There was Tobi, standing with his hands behind his back. Deidara rolled his eye.
"Go away, hm," he sighed, rolling over.
The brat didn't listen, walking into the room with loud footsteps. Deidara heard the wooden door shut, before silence filled the room. God, Tobi was so annoying. Couldn't he just leave him alone for once?
Rather than doing what Deidara wanted, Tobi had gotten even closer at the edge of his bed. Deidara opened his mouth to start reprimanding him in frustration, but then the touch of leather pressed against the side of his head, and he snapped it shut.
Tobi was – he was...
Like the last time.
"Are you okay, senpai?" Tobi whispered, not moving a hand. His tone had sounded so sweet, it made Deidara feel warm and want to vomit all at once.
With half of his face stuffed into his pillow, Deidara muttered, "What's wrong with you? You've been acting so weird lately, hm. And I don't know why I always have to remind you to stop touching me."
The hand retracted immediately. Deidara frowned.
"You didn't eat much today, so I brought you the peach you wanted."
That was when Deidara's stomach grumbled, and loudly so. He grinned a toothy grin, not even the least embarrassed. Tobi did something useful, for once. Sitting up on his bed, Deidara patted the space next to him, "We'll split, hm."
"R-really?"
"I'm not repeating myself," he said. Tobi never ate anything in front of anybody. Sometimes he grabbed food and disappeared, but those moments were few and far between. Not that Deidara cared much if Tobi chose to starve himself. He just didn't want his partner to easily tire on their next mission.
Tobi squealed, plopping down next to Deidara, "Oh boy, this makes me so happy, senpai! Thank you, so, so much. Here, I'll cut it and give you the bigger half. You must be starving!"
Deidara bit back a rude comment, seeing Tobi place a plate – that he was apparently carrying the whole time – on his lap. It was a wooden plate. That was a useful habit of Deidara's, to note and memorize little details of his surroundings. Maybe it was an artist thing, he didn't know. It certainly helped him in battle, especially long-range.
The masked nin was quiet. Was that going to be a normal thing from him now on? If so, Deidara didn't mind, not at all. The bomber copied his silence, watching Tobi pull out a knife from under his sleeve. So the brat did cloak hidden weapons. Interesting.
The blade cut through the fuzzy skin, gleaming in the dim lighting. The fruity scents hit Deidara almost immediately. A soft sound escaped him, breaking the near silence in the room. Wow. That smelled absolutely heavenly. Shit, he was starving!
Tobi had stopped cutting.
Before Deidara could admonish or question him, Tobi continued slicing, carefully and slowly. It was a smooth, clean cut, dividing the peach in nearly equal halves.
Cutting out the fact that – all pun intended – Tobi was slicing up a harmless fruit, seeing him wield a weapon was rather... mesmerizing. Deidara swallowed. The knife resembled a puukko, a very rare dagger made by blacksmiths and metalworkers worldwide. Brutish civilians called it a woman's weapon. Shinobi called it stealth. This blade in particular was rather enticing. Practically morphing with Tobi's gloves, the wooden handle was a dark colour, stained black and glossed beautifully. A thin strip of silver had been plated to circle the bottom of the handle, giving it a simple decoration.
What the hell – Deidara was getting turned on by a freakin' knife? Sure, he had a passion for art, but knives weren't as beautiful as explosions. This was completely unreasonable. Maybe it was the way Tobi was holding onto the knife? His index finger had extended and curled around the blade, as if it didn't give two flying fucks about getting cut or not.
Okay, these thoughts had to stop.
Deidara asked the man, "Where did you get that knife? Puukkos are hard to find around here."
He could practically hear Tobi smiling under that swirly, orange mask when he said, "Oh, I don't really know. Zetsu gave it to me. Do you want it?"
"No."
"Are you sure?"
"...No."
Tobi turned his body to face Deidara, laughing, "If senpai wants it, he can have it. But..."
But, what? Geez, Tobi and his games! Deidara wouldn't mind having the knife. Okay, that was an understatement. He really wanted to inspect it. He assumed the puukko held little sentimental value, because Tobi didn't seem like the type to hold onto something for so long. He'd guess that Tobi would loose interest in an object when he found a newer, prettier one. If he didn't lose it first, anyways.
"Hm, but you have to let Tobi feed you!"
Wait, what? Deidara's mouth opened in shock, "I'm not a baby, hm! How many times do I have to tell you that?"
Tobi held up the dagger to Deidara's eye level, swinging the weapon between two fingers, "I think you want this really badly, senpai. It's made from water buffalo horn, birch, and silver with a damascus steel blade. Exquisite, no?"
That bastard! He knew what he was doing! Deidara just wanted a glimpse. So badly. The weapon was a work of art, one so exotic and rare, it deserved to be fleeting. Here was Tobi, keeping it for who knew how long and letting it rot. The blade was underappreciated. Deidara wasn't materialistic in the slightest, but seeing a fine weapon being used like a kitchen knife? That was shameful. Tobi had Deidara figured out enough to know how he felt about armament.
He huffed, "The Akatsuki's rubbed off on you, Tobi. You're getting pretty cunning."
The scamp only dangled the knife closer to Deidara's face.
Bad move, Deidara smirked, swiping for the blade.
He blinked.
Wow.
Tobi was pretty swift.
Said man laughed in what could only be described as sheer amusement, "Oh, senpai. You were too slow."
Deidara glared, "Fine. Fine! Just cut my piece into smaller slices, hm."
At least he could still boss Tobi around. And technically, this was a win-win situation. Not only would Deidara be getting that fabulous puukko, but he'd get fed like damned royalty too.
Tobi had suddenly pressed a peach slice to his lips, cutting Deidara from his thoughts. It felt weird. He felt weird. He still wasn't sure if he liked the thought of being spoon-fed, so he didn't open his mouth. Instead, with furrowed brows, he tried to stare into Tobi's eye hole. If only he could see through that damned thing! How was it always so dark anyways? Did Tobi have a black slab for a face?
Deidara's eyes narrowed as Tobi began jiggling his leather-covered hand. The yellow tissue of the fruit moistened and cooled the criminal's lips, which Deidara thought felt sort of pleasant. He pushed that dangerous thought aside.
Tobi urged him, practically singing, "Come on senpai, open up. Don't you want to break into the fruit's ripe flesh... taste it's juices on your tongue? Doesn't that sound delicious, Deidara-senpai?"
Okay, he was probably losing it. The way Tobi said that. It was dark.
He stared into Tobi's peephole.
Then a chill crawled up his spine. Deidara could feel the man staring at him.
Tobi pushed the peach against his bottom lip, parting open Deidara's mouth. He whispered, voice almost threatening, "Senpai... You're acting like a child."
Him? Him! Acting like a child? Was Tobi serious?
Deidara considered biting off Tobi's hand, but threw that thought aside. It wouldn't prove anything. Besides, the kid would just start yelling and shouting, which would do nothing but permanently damage his ears.
The masked man was edging toward him, now sitting so close, their knees were touching. He used a thumb, cramming it between the bomber's white teeth. Deidara's eyes widened, mind hitting a blank.
Tobi was...
He – Tobi was...
"Open up, Deidara."
Scaring him.
Deidara shuddered, finally complying and allowing Tobi to shove the fruit into his mouth. The sweet fructose hit his tongue. Shocked eyes had closed, Deidara chewing the delightful fruit in utter rapture. He was so hungry it hurt.
Tobi had been so demanding, so frightening, for that brief minute. It was tempting. God, if Tobi could act like that all the time, Deidara wouldn't be ashamed to have him as a partner.
He cracked open an eye, "You should try being this assertive in combat, hm."
"Assertive?" Tobi questioned.
Deidara frowned, "Yeah, hm. What's wrong with you? You're acting peculiar, hm."
"I think I might be angry," he said. Tobi sounded unsure of himself, suddenly.
Deidara had never, ever heard of Tobi feeling anger. He was quick to ask, "Why would you be mad?"
"Because I know what it feels like to be trapped, too."
He didn't think he'd get a proper response if he asked, so he didn't. Still, he couldn't help but wonder about Tobi's past. Deidara was so used to feeling chained, he didn't even notice anymore. It seemed like he misjudged Tobi. The man wasn't as aloof as he thought. He recognized the root of Deidara's agitation before he did himself. He had been trying to make him feel better by offering presents and feeding him. How very Tobi.
Noticing Tobi's thumb was touching the corner of his mouth, Deidara turned slightly away, feeling more accepting, "Another one, hm."
As if broken from a spell, Tobi's hand jolted off Deidara's lip and went for another peach slice. Then he giggled, "Is Tobi a good boy?"
Deidara narrowed an eye, staring straight at Tobi. The man had his head down, hand hovering over the plate of peach slices, as if searching for the best one. Maybe Deidara was just over thinking this, Tobi was still an idiot.
When the mask had lifted to look at him, Deidara scowled, "I feel ridiculous. Give me the puukko. A deal's a deal, hm."
Tobi shoved another peach into Deidara's mouth, "Will that make Tobi a good boy?"
"Yes," he snarled, not caring his mouth was full, "Now gi – ."
Deidara looked into his outstretched palm, feeling the cool touch of metal against his skin. There it was, as beautiful as ever. Whether or not he'd return it was another story. He grinned, swallowing down the peach slice.
"I hope you feel happy now, senpai."
A/N: Thank you so much for the lovely and considerate reviews! And also for the follows and favourites. The story will be taking a twist from this point forward, for better or for worse.