SasoDei Fanfic 14

“Mnnnn..?  Deidara?”  A groggy, hoarse voice just behind him made him jump a foot in the air.

Still repulsed and horrified by what had been done to his partner, he tried to avoid turning his back on the maimed body as he looked frantically for the source of the voice.  What he saw nearly gave him another heart attack and he leaped backwards to get away from it, lost his balance upon coming into contact with the bed, toppled into the body laying there, gave a strangled squeak as he tried to get away from that as well, and ended up in a crumpled heap on the floor.  Visibly shuddering, the blonde lifted first one hand then the other to grasp hold of the edge of the bed and pull his pale face up just enough to peer over the bed covers at what was resting on the desk just ahead.

“Danna?”  he whispered tentatively, his voice barely audible.

“What are you doing brat?”  Sasori's head spoke again, still unable to get enough sleepiness out of its voice to sound even remotely scornful.

Bright blue eyes wide with wonder and almost fear, Deidara lifted his head only slightly to get a closer look at the decapitated talking head.  “Wh-what happened?”  was all he was able to get out.

For the first time, Sasori seemed uncomfortable and averted his gaze to the floor to the far left of the blonde.

“And what's that?”  Deidara pointed carefully at the thick glass jar the head was resting on.

The red head looked down with an expression of confusion on his face before realizing what it was his partner was referring to.  The uneasiness on his features faded slowly to weary surrender and he sighed.  This was too much for him to take when he had lost so much energy.  Those few hours of rest did not suffice to allow him to regain enough chakra to even think properly.

“I'm tired, Deidara.  At least wait until tomorrow.”

The sculptor jumped at hearing his name again.  Sasori, besides missing his head and a heart, seemed so worn out.  It rather scared him to see his partner like this.  So far from what he had seen, nothing seemed to phase his partner.  The red head was always the stronger of the two of them, always with more stamina, always leading the blonde around, and always in control of every situation.  Perhaps that had been what shocked him the most when he had thought Sasori struck down.  The stronger of the two beaten.  And now, Sasori was tired and it showed on his stoic face.  He was troubled and it showed.  And he conceded defeat in an argument without a struggle.  For some reason the loss of fight in his partner upset him deeply and he was all too happy to leave the room without a qualm.

The blonde realized as he made his slow way back up the stairs how tired he was, too.  Trying to block from his tired mind the haunting image of Sasori's detached head and his worn-out expression, Deidara instead felt himself drifting back into sleep gradually as he trudged up the last few steps.  He barely made it back to his bed before he collapsed and fell immediately asleep.

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He dreamed of Sasori.

The two were together, though he wasn’t really sure if they were actually partners.  Deidara felt happy as though nothing could ever ruin it.  Sasori was happy, though he didn't show it.  It was one of those things in dreams where, although you see through the eyes of someone, your perception of emotions is omniscient.  They really weren't anywhere in particular, but the colors surrounding them were vivid greens and blues.  It felt like time passed as well though nothing changed in the atmosphere or scenery.

Suddenly, a purple snake slithered into the picture, the ground blackening as it went.  Aside from Sasori and Deidara, it was the only thing in focus.  As if drawn by some sort of spell, the red head turned away from Deidara and drifted slowly towards the halted form of the snake.  The serpent had a sinisterly almost human look in its golden eyes and looked positively delighted to see it was trapping Sasori.

Deidara tried to yell out to stop the puppet master but his voice wouldn’t make a sound.  There was something dangerous about that creature and he needed to help Sasori.  But he found his feet were stuck.  He couldn’t move and he couldn’t speak.

Sasori took no more heed of him, enraptured by the snake.
Deidara was crushed.  He cared so much for the other that it hurt him to be forgotten so easily.

When Sasori reached the snake, the vibrant blues and greens that represented their happiness and content had faded into darkness.  Only the three figures were visible in a sea of black.

Suddenly, the snake form melted away to reveal the figure of a man.  Sasori took no notice but still was captivated by what had been the serpent.  Deidara could see an evil grin paint across the shadowed face of the man and, without warning, he took out a kunai.

The viewpoint from which he was able to see changed and he was forced to watch the shocked look on both Sasori's and his own face as the knife was stabbed into Sasori's heart from the back.  The red head looked down in mild surprise at the metal protruding from his chest then looked directly at Deidara with a tiny smile before collapsing to the ground.

Deidara woke in a cold sweat, his heart pounding against his ribcage.  It took almost a minute for his panic to subside enough for him to realize that it had only been a dream and even longer for him to slip back to sleep.  It was still dark outside.  Perhaps he could get in some more sleep before morning…?

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Sasori was awoken when the occupants of the room decided to return early that morning.  Judging himself still tired but rested enough to function properly, he brought attention to himself and asked for Kakuzu to do him one last favor.  Ill tempered though he was, Kakuzu conceded to assist him if only to get the puppet master the hell out of his room.

The self-proclaimed financial advisor carried the head and the jar it had been resting on up to the other’s room and followed the instructions given to him a little reluctantly.  After doing what Sasori considered a rather mediocre job sealing the jar into another body, Kakuzu screwed the head onto the wooden neck and sealed the body hastily once more.

Hidan, who had followed the two of them with Sasori's ruined body over his shoulder, dumped it onto the work desk by the closet and yawned, obviously still tired.  Rubbing his purple eyes, the immortal looked sleepily at his partner and the red head for some sort of instruction, not quite fully awake enough to make a nuisance of himself.

Kakuzu growled with an irritated tone to his voice, “Hidan and I are going on a mission now, so I cant be your mother anymore.”

Sasori's brown eyes flashed dangerously and from nowhere, he whipped out a kunai and looked hell bent on using it.

Kakuzu ignored this and left without another word.  The Jashinist yawned again and followed suit.

Sasori looked after them angrily for a long time afterward, not moving an inch.  Finally, he set down the kunai knife and took a deep breath before looking down to inspect his new body as compared to his old still lying out on his desk.  Just as he had planned – identical to every last detail.  Though for the longest time he had considered himself to be rather paranoid for creating a duplicate of himself, it had actually turned out rather useful.

Still the Taki nin had done a poor job in resealing him to the body.  After carefully examining what had already been done in the sealing process in order to avoid repeating anything, Sasori unscrewed and reattached his head more securely until it snapped in place.  With a few more snaps as the parts at the base of his head caught in various other places, he began redoing the seal.

When he finished, he realized he needed a cup of coffee – now.  Trying to hurry, he looked over his old body and how it used to work then made sure his new one had the same capabilities before descending the steps to fetch his morning stimulation.

His sour mood brightened if only slightly by catching sight of what was downstairs.  Just before he got down the last few stairs, he heard a cold emotionless voice say, “Why down are we doing this down here again?”

“Everyone’s gone and the couch is more fun,” came the guttural reply.

Sasori's lips played into a tiny smirk of deepest amusement when he emerged from the stairwell.

Itachi lay on his back with Kisame straddling his legs and bent over him.  Both looked over at Sasori, Itachi with calm calculation and Kisame, with hands that had obviously been sliding up under Itachi's fishnet shirt, looked as though he'd been caught stealing from the cookie-jar.  The Uchiha did not change expression, but looked back at his partner with an obvious “I-told-you-so” air.  Kisame looked uncomfortable.

Sasori made nothing of it and continued towards the kitchen for his morning cup.  It wasn’t the first time he'd walked in on scenes like this in the organization, and would probably not be the last.

When he returned to the room, he proceeded to reattach everything that had been equipped to his old body.

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Deidara awoke with a start when he heard a loud crack.  Looking around frantically for the source, he was surprised to notice a figure standing in his room.  It took him a few moments to realize who it was.

Sasori was standing with his back to the blonde near his work station holding in one hand that horrible wing blade he had seen the puppet master working on the other day.  His other arm was wrapped around behind him, working on something on his back, the Akatsuki cloak hiding his action from view.

An unexplainable happiness welled inside of him.  Just last night he had been sure his partner was dead.  Did normal people feel that way about their partners?  He had been crushed to see Sasori dead and overjoyed to hear he still lived.  But no, when the blonde was a genin in his three man team, he couldn’t really care less about them.

Delighted, he said, “Sasori no danna!”

Having forgotten that the blonde was even there, Sasori jumped ever so slightly and dropped what was in the hand around his back.  With a clang, another metal wing clattered to the floor.  The red head looked over his shoulder with mild contempt in his face.

Deidara stared with confusion at the blade for a moment before meeting Sasori's eyes.  Disregarding that the puppet master was probably a little annoyed with him for interrupting, he grinned, hardly containing his elation.

Sasori said nothing but turned back around to take a sip of coffee.  He wasn’t exactly in the mood to deal with his optimistic partner but he couldn’t deny that the blonde had proved himself worthy by bringing him back.  Hmm…speaking of which…

“Did you kill them or otherwise stop them?”  He spoke without turning to face the other.  Instead he brought the arm holding the first blade wing around his back and began fiddling around with it just as he had with the other before.

Deidara's smile didn't fade when he answered, “Yup, I killed them.  Nobody hurts my danna!”

Sasori said nothing.  The protectiveness for him was so foreign.  Nobody had said anything like that before.  Probably because he didn't really need protection from anyone.  A satisfying snap came from his back and he withdrew his arm.

“So,” the blonde continued, completely oblivious to the silence and not really paying close enough attention to hear the crack, “how exactly are you okay?  Didn't you get stabbed?”  He paused thoughtfully before hit with another realization, “And your head wasn’t attached!”

Sasori sighed.  He had promised to tell the brat in the morning, huh?  Unsure of how he was supposed to explain it, he let the cloak drop off his shoulders to the ground and turned all the way around.

Deidara's bright blue eyes widened in astonishment and horror at the sight.  Sasori had had his back turned just long enough for the blonde to see the scrolls fastened to an obviously not human back.  The blade wing that had Sasori had been holding was attached to the middle of the back and spread out menacingly.  Directly beside it was a hole where the blonde assumed the other as supposed to go.

When he turned, the sculptor saw first the jar that Sasori's head had rested on last night was in fact directly where his heart should be.  Where his stomach would be was a large cavity where a metal cord was wrapped countless times around a cylinder deep within.  The rest of the torso closely resembled the puppets the red head used except that it was even more carefully crafted – if that was possible.  The arms looked almost human without the occasional seam running around them.  The shoulders were nothing more than simple ball and socket joints.

Deidara just stared in open shock for a few moments before practically whispering, “But…what are you?”

In a voice equally as soft, Sasori replied, “My masterpiece.”

Suddenly everything made so much more sense.  That line running around the red heads neck was where his head could be removed.  This was the only way he could possibly be older than Deidara.  Sasori never ate.  He never got tired.  The swords didn't kill him.  This was the answer to almost everything.

Somehow the blonde was unsure of how to take it.  He was still of course happy that the puppeteer was okay, but this as the reason seemed to bring him down a few notches.  It felt like the red head was taken from his grasp.

“So you're a…puppet?”

Sasori couldn’t bring himself to look into the other’s eyes.  He had always been rather proud of what he had succeeded in making himself, but he never liked others to see him as something other than human.  He was well aware of the fact that it wasn’t natural and really couldn’t care less.  But the only thing that really made him uncomfortable was seeing people who he wasn’t trying to kill look on him as a thing.

He merely nodded in response.  Damn this kid!  Why was he getting so uncomfortable over this?  He barely knew the brat.

The blonde stepped forward.  “But,” he took another step towards the red head, “You look so real.”  He didn't want to believe this was true.  Deidara stood directly in front of Sasori.  Tentatively, he reached out, waiting for his hand to be slapped away.

Sasori, however, did nothing.

The sculptors fingers touched the smooth wood of Sasori's chest gingerly.  He was surprised to find it felt exactly like skin.  Without thinking, he moved his fingers up and down on the smooth surface.  Aside from the fact that it didn't give way like ordinary flesh did, it had the same texture.

The red head still refused to look into the blondes face but he allowed him to touch him for some reason.  He supposed it was natural to be interested in the puppet body.  It also didn't really get him annoyed like almost everything else his partner did.  Eurgh, it was way too early in the morning for any of this and that was probably the only reason he was being so lenient.

The blonde removed his touch and brought both hands up to Sasori's face.  It felt so…normal.  Even though his eyes told him Sasori was right, everything he touched felt human.

Suddenly curious, he bent slowly towards the red head until their lips gently met.  He noted vaguely that they felt real, too.  Not even aware of himself moving, Deidara pushed himself into the kiss.

For a second, the puppeteer made no move to avoid the blonde.  It reminded him of things long since lost.  Suddenly, however, he realized what was going on and his eyes opened wide with shock.  He pushed his partner from him, not dropping the surprised, questioning look on his pale face.  “Get out, brat,” he said softly.

It seemed that, at that very moment, Deidara realized what he had done and put a hand over his mouth, visibly alarmed.  He slowly backed up, his eyes darting to the ground and back up at the red head as if trying to figure out what had just happened and how he had gotten there.  “Oh my god…what have I…?”  His panicked whispers trailed off and as soon as he reached the door, he fumbled with the latch and practically bolted out the doorway, leaving Sasori standing very much alone with a puzzled expression still across his features.