Adult-FanFiction.org : Naruto

Criminal	By : laurenloogie Category: Naruto > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 1431 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-massacre
- 2-ruthless
- 3-tsukiyomi
- 4-obvious
- 5-barracks
- 6-bind
- 7-luck
- 8-heat
- 9-break
- 10-grief
- 11-thin
- 12-creep
- 13-switch
- 14-rant
- 15-battles
- 16-capture
- 17-undisclosed
- 18-drugs
- 19-snake
- 20-infiltration
- 21-color
- 22-escape
- 23-used
- 24-possession
- 25-cold
- 26-trap
- 10
- 11
- 12
Warning: Not much, other than the beginnings of some DeiKisa at the bottom. Also a lot of weird angst.

Deidara hadn't been to the coast since he was a child. His parents (who were both deceased now) had taken him to a beach in the Land of Fire when he was five... all he could remember about the experience was that he had been swept under by a wave, leaving him bawling and choking on seawater.
Now, as he stood barefoot on the shore and gazed out at the ocean, the waves looked far less intimidating. How could such a small current have pulled me under back then? he mused. Sure, I'm taller now... but not by much. He quickly stripped down to his boxers, tossing his clothes into a messy pile. The only thing preventing him from getting completely nude was Sasori, who was undoubtedly leering at him from the cover of a nearby dune.
He bounded into the ocean with poorly restrained enthusiasm, trying not to laugh outloud at the delightful feel of the cool water against his skin. When he was past the breaking point of the waves, he pushed off and let himself float, gazing up at the puffy clouds as the rolling tide rose and fell beneath him. If I live through this Akatsuki bullshit, I'm going to retire on the coast, he thought. I bet Kisame would like that, too...
He floated for a long time, relishing in the serenity of it. Once in a while, he'd shift his gaze to the coast, just to make sure the current wasn't carrying him too far. Surrounded by cerulean blue both above and below, it took him a minute to register that he'd spotted something blue on the shore. He was too far away to make out what it was... maybe it was a beached shark?
When he swam in close enough to see that it was Kisame, he would have laughed at the irony if he wasn't so shocked. He quickly made it to the shore, wading awkwardly then running until he made it to the swordsman's side.
Kisame looked like a corpse. If it weren't for the rise and fall of his chest, Deidara would have immediately assumed the worst. The swordsman was disturbingly thin, as if the hot coastal sun had somehow been evaporating him, and his injuries were simply horrific. His left eye was swollen past the point of a stereotypical shiner, looking far worse up close than it had at the meeting, and the bandages on his fingers and toes were so poorly wrapped that the gruesome wounds beneath were partially exposed. That's frostbite, Deidara immediately deduced. His homeland was notoriously cold at times so he'd seen his fair share of blackened extremities, gangrene, and amputations. The way he's tending to it, he'll wind up with twenty useless stubs, the blonde brooded. Why the hell hasn't he just healed himself with Samehada?
He sank to a crouch and nervously brushed his wet hair out of his eyes. Should I wake him up? he wondered, unnerved by the thought of startling the swordsman... Kisame was so strong that he could reflexively reach out and snap a person's neck before even gaining consciousness. However, there was no doubt that the man was in a dire state. He looked like maybe he wouldn't wake up at all. With this in mind, Deidara swallowed his fears and tentatively gave the swordman's gilled shoulder a poke.
After a few more persistant pokes, Kisame muttered something incomprehensible then slowly opened his uninjured eye to a bloodshot slit. A moment passed during which he squinted at the blonde without a single sign of recognition. Finally, he snorted and cracked a lopsided grin.
"Deidara," he stated, his voice hoarse. "For a second I thought you were a fuckin' mermaid."
"Come on, now," Deidara said, feeling an equally crooked grin tug at his lips despite the grimness of the situation. "When I saw a blue lump on the beach, I thought you were a beached shark." He wanted to say I thought you were dead but held his tongue.
Kisame snorted. "You realize sharks aren't blue, right?" he replied. "They're mostly grey."
Deidara narrowed his eyes slightly as he pondered the fact. "Then why the hell are you blue?" he finally asked.
"I'm blue because the Land of Water has a fucked up gene pool," the swordsman sneered. "It's an isolated island full of bored, horny freaks... so I'm probably lucky I'm not an inbred retard."
"What about your parents?" Deidara pried. "Were they... normal colored?"
"For crying out loud..." Kisame muttered, wincing as he rose to a sitting position. "You haven't seen me in weeks and right off the bat you start prying into my family history?" He unraveled Samehada's binds with a practiced ease - the creature sped toward the ocean like a rabid centipede and quickly disappeared into the water. It obviously didn't like being used as a pillow.
"Sorry," Deidara said. "I'm just... naturally curious." He reached out and tentatively took one of Kisame's bandaged hands in his. The contact caused the swordsman to suddenly flinch and divert his eyes, his jagged grin vanishing like it was never there. What the hell? Deidara wondered, shocked and slightly appalled. It's like he's afraid to be touched! For a minute he couldn't even think of anything to say as his brain scrambled for an answer.
"Knock it off," the swordsman growled.
"Knock what off?" Deidara snapped. "I didn't even do anything!"
"You're about to start interrogating me about my injuries..." Kisame bluntly replied. "And I'm not in the mood to talk about it. So don't even bother, alright?"
"Well... fuck you too, hmm?" the blonde stated, offended. "There's no need for you to be such a dick. I'm just worried about your frostbite. Your fingers are gonna rot if you continue to neglect them."
"No shit," Kisame growled, his tone failing to imply whether it was a question (no shit?!) or a statement. Either way, he sounded sullen and slightly embarrassed.
"You're probably not going to tell me why the hell you haven't let Samehada heal you," Deidara said bitterly. "So just let me redress your wounds, alright? Believe it or not, I'm actually a decent medic."
Kisame sighed, shifting his headband so it covered up his shiner. "Fine," he relented. "But let's do it somewhere else... this fuckin' sand is getting annoying." As he rose to his feet, he growled and spit. "My mouth's all gritty," he mumbled. For a minute he just glared at the canvas bag next to him on the ground before expending the effort to stoop down and grab it.
"Stylin' bag," Deidara said, brushing the wet sand off his ass as he rose to his feet.
"I know, right?" Kisame replied, smirking a little. "It makes me feel kinda... fashionable."
They left the shore, retreating to the cover of some palm trees. Samehada reluctantly followed, leaving a wet trail in the sand as it shimmied awkwardly behind them. Both sword and swordsman looked exhausted - Deidara couldn't help but gawk at Kisame's emaciated appearance. He's lost at least ten pounds, he thought. I can see his damn ribcage! What the fuck is the matter with him? It was obvious something worse had happened to the swordsman than a mere beating, although Deidara couldn't begin to guess at what it was. Maybe Itachi had subjected him to another Tsukiyomi? The only thing Deidara was sure of was that the Uchiha was probably the one responsible - who else was frightening enough to emotionally scar a man like Kisame? When that bastard shows up, I'm gonna pound the truth out of him! he seethed.
"Stop that," Kisame growled as he sat down on a boulder.
"Stop what?" Deidara asked sheepishly.
"You're all pissed off," the swordsman said. "It doesn't matter what happened, alright? So drop it."
"Is it that obvious what I'm thinking?" Deidara huffed. "Everyone's been seeing right through me lately... I think that maybe I've turned to glass."
"Don't worry, you're quite opaque," Kisame mumbled as he rummaged through the bag and pulled out a canteen. "But when you clench your fists and curse under your breath, it's pretty easy to tell that you're angry." He took a drink from the canteen then passed it to Deidara.
"What's in this?" the blonde asked, taking it reluctantly.
"It's water, idiot," Kisame growled. "What, were you hoping it was sake?"
"Stop reading my mind!" Deidara snapped, embarrassed.
After he took a few sips of water, Kisame handed him the bag, which was full of medical supplies. I wonder where he got all this stuff, he wondered as he pulled out some antiseptic. Judging by how tight-lipped the swordsman was being, it was probably going to remain a mystery.
"This is going to take a while," he said as he took a seat next to Kisame on the boulder. "And it's probably going to hurt like hell." Their legs were touching and he had to bite down hard on his lip to prevent himself from getting an instant erection. He'd been lusting over the swordsman constantly since they'd parted ways, masturbating to the thought of blue lips on his cock every chance he got. It was bordering on an unhealthy obsession - if it weren't for Kisame's scarred mental state, he'd be on the man like a bitch in heat. To say he was disappointed by the swordsman's aversion to physical contact would be a huge understatement.
"Just get it over with," Kisame muttered, unwrapping his bandages to reveal the blackened mess of his extremities.
"Whatever," Deidara sighed. "You're obviously enjoying torturing yourself with these wounds, or else you would have just healed yourself days ago, hmm?"
"I'm not enjoying it, asshole," the swordsman growled. "I'm just..." he trailed off and cursed under his breath.
"You're just a fucking wreck," the blonde stated acidly. "I wish you'd tell me what the hell happened!"
"Well... too bad," Kisame replied, flinching skittishly when Deidara took his hand.
"Ugh, fine," the blonde spat as he reached for the antiseptic. "I'll find out one way or another. Either way, this is going to take at least an hour, so you should entertain me with a story or something. If I get too bored, I might accidentally snap off one of your half-dead fingers."
"Are you being serious?" Kisame growled. "Either way, I'm a terrible storyteller. You're better off just thinking something up on your own."
Deidara grinned a little and shook his head. "Nope," he said. "You're gonna tell me about your childhood. Consider it compensation for being so friggin tight-lipped. I've always wondered what you were like when you were a kid. I bet you were adorable."
The swordsman snorted. "I've never been adorable," he stated dryly. "And my childhood was pretty unremarkable. It'll probably put you to sleep if I tell you about it."
"No it won't," the blonde said, a little too quickly. He felt a blush heat his cheeks - if Kisame knew the full extent of his creepy infatuation, he'd probably run away screaming.
"Feh, if you insist," the swordsman relented. "But I swear to you, it's not much of a story."
* * *
When Kisame was a kid, there was nothing unusual about being an orphan. The Land of Water was in a state of absolute chaos, crippled by civil war and frequent battles with the other great nations, so poverty, raids, and genocide-style executions swept through villages like the plague. The mortality rate of both children and adults was extremely high... as a result, Kisame was just one amongst many kids who grew up with no inkling of who their parents were and the bitter assumption that they were dead. His plight was so common that there wasn't even any point in agonizing over it. No one gave a shit about his problems so neither did he.
He considered Kirigakure his hometown but he wasn't born there - some Kiri shinobi had found him as an infant in the rubble of a ransacked coastal village. He'd been told that there weren't any other survivors, although he doubted the fact. The only reason they'd let him live was because of his massive amount of chakra... anyone else clinging to life had probably been put out of their misery. After all, this was back when Kirigakure had been known as the infamous Village of the Bloody Mist. Empathy wasn't really one of their strong points.
Despite the fact that Kiri saw Kisame as an asset, his childhood was still pretty crappy. Children - especially orphans - were treated as little more than nuisances until they were old enough to be useful. He lived in a shitty orphanage for a while, penned in with a bunch of other malnourished, pissed off kids, then got his own, slightly less shitty efficiency once he was old enough to work. This was around the same time he entered the ninja academy - he couldn't pinpoint his exact age back then, but he'd been a few years younger than his classmates. Age wasn't a big deal in Kiri. The only thing that mattered was whether or not you were old enough to hold a kunai.
Ninja school was a breeze... it was almost too easy. Even though he was working on the side to support himself, he still excelled in all his classes, making his peers look like whiny brats in comparison. And in many ways, they were - most of them had been raised from wealthy, stable households, the daughters and sons of influential shinobi clans that considered ninja school more of a formality than a necessity. Orphans, while common in the streets, were a rarity in the academy - most of them ended up becoming thieves or whores. In this aspect, Kisame was somewhat of an anomaly, granted entry only because of his biju-like chakra.
While Kisame sometimes wondered what it would be like to have a family, he didn't envy the lifestyle. Kids raised in comfort and safety were weak and spoiled - they cried a lot and threw tantrums when something was too difficult. If this was what children were supposed to act like, Kisame had no problem with being abnormal. As they got older, they cried less and didn't throw as many tantrums, instead forming dumb little cliques that excluded him. They were afraid to say anything to his face but they all percieved him as a threat, and so they talked shit about him from a comfortable distance. The class moved inevitably toward the notorious, deadly graduation and with the passage of time, the fear and the hatred grew until there were actual attempts on his life - all failed, obviously. Kisame wondered what the point was. If I die, you assholes are just going to have to kill eachother to graduate, he thought. Perhaps it was better to be killed by one's friends?
Graduation finally came. Kisame would never forget the expressions on his classmates' faces - some of them had reverted back to small children, bawling and snotty, others were paper-pale and trembling like dry leaves, a few were somehow crying and throwing up simultaneously. This is the day we're supposed to sever our bonds, he thought to himself. Doesn't have the same effect when there's no bonds to sever, does it? He felt none of his classmates' anxiety... in fact, he felt nothing at all, just a vague anticipation. When the graduation was over, he was standing aloofly in a puddle of his peers' blood, unable to wipe the shit-eating grin off his face as he mechanically cleaned the soiled blade of his katana. The reactions from the judge's panel were varied - some of the judges looked absolutely horrified while others looked smitten, already plotting his use as a shinobi. One of the smitten ones was none other than Fukugi Suikazan, a local legend and the wielder of the Great Blade Samehada.
He had barely tied on his shinobi headband when Fuguki confronted him, wanting him for his own. Back then, the legendary swordsman had been thin and quite handsome - his long hair and sweeping robes made him appear intimidating yet strangely effeminate, as if he might seduce an enemy before going in for the kill. Kisame was rather tongue-tied as Fuguki gave him his proposal. "You're perfect for the kind of missions I carry out," he said. "Work for me and in return, I'll personally train you to wield the Great Blades. Your skills will fall to waste under these other idiots."
It had sounded great... and in a way, it was. Feminine appearance aside, Fuguki was a ruthless instructor, kicking his ass when he slipped up and forcing him to train until he dropped from exhaustion. The jobs were equally difficult - he didn't get the luxury of simple D-Rank missions to start out with. Fuguki put him on A and S-Rank right out the gate, giving him a bingo book with certain heads circled for emphasis. Difficult as his life was, he enjoyed the challenge, although he was still pretty broke most of the time. Fuguki paid him directly and he suspected that the man was taking a cut for himself.
By the time he was fifteen, he had achieved the rank of jounin and earned himself the questionable title 'Monster of the Hidden Mist.' His enthusiasm for bloodshed and skill on the battlefield had made him quite famous, although his peers were still afraid to befriend him. It didn't bother him, though - he accredited his success partially to his lack of bonds, convinced that having friends to confide in would only make him weak. The one person he was somewhat close to was Zabuza, a crazy bastard child a few years his junior whose eagerness to become a shinobi had shut down the entire graduation system. The boy had killed off an entire class with only a cheap sword and self-taught skill, resulting in a mass funeral instead of a graduation ceremony.
To say Zabuza and Kisame became friends would be an exaggeration - they were both too cold to form a deep relationship. It was only on the training field that they'd truly understand eachother, catching glimpses of regrets and ambitions with the furious exchange of blows. The two were like icons for the warlike shinobi village - ruthless, emotionless, and frighteningly efficient in every aspect. Everyone looked up to them but no one envied them.
"So... that's about it," Kisame stated. "Like I said, it's not much of a story."
"What?" Deidara huffed. "Why'd you stop? I wanna know what happened after that!"
"If you read about me in a bingo book, you should already know what happened," the swordsman growled. "I did Kirigakure's dirty work, slaying my comrades for the overall benefit of the village. My final mission was to slay Fuguki, who had begun selling information to the enemy, going against everything he had taught me. He also got really fat... growing into his 'pufferfish demon' name, I suppose. Or perhaps it came with being a corrupt, opulent piece of shit? Who knows. Either way, when the Mizukage ordered me to kill him, I think his disgusting appearance made it easier for me to take his life. But that's beside the point. Despite the underlying good I was doing for Kiri, the nature of my missions forced me to flee. After I escaped the village, I joined the Akatsuki... and here I am. As for Zabuza, he went rogue soon after I did and ended up getting himself killed by Konoha ninja. That's it. The end, or whatever you want me to say."
Deidara reflected on the story for a while, chilled by it. He'd heard bits and pieces about the notorious Bloody Mist Village but hearing about it from first-hand experience was a lot more intense. It made Iwagakure look like a damn playground. And he'd also heard of Zabuza - although the stories were mixed. "Hey, I heard that Zabuza was a bit of a... I dunno... a fruitloop," he said. "Like... he was into little boys?"
"Who the hell told you that?" Kisame snapped.
"Sasori," the blonde replied, shrugging as if to say 'obviously.'
"Well Sasori doesn't know what the hell he's talking about," the swordsman snarled. "Zabuza was not a fruitloop, as you so eloquently put it. Shit, that's just ridiculous." He sighed and shook his head, almost comically offended. "You should treat the dead with respect," he muttered.
"Hey, Sasori's the one who said it, not me," Deidara said defensively.
"Well you shouldn't believe everything that asshole tells you," Kisame stated. "For crying out loud, that's just... low."
"Oh, calm down," Deidara said. "This is Sasori we're talking about here. You know how he is."
"He's in no position to talk," Kisame growled. "Thirty-something years old, walking around in that teenage puppet body. Fuckin' creepy."
"Woah there," Deidara mused, squinting a little as he carefully wrapped the swordsman's fingers in fresh bandages. "Don't bash on someone for talking shit then do it yourself."
"Well, Sasori's not dead," Kisame replied, grinning a little. "So... up until he kicks the bucket, I can say whatever I want about him."
"Is that so?" growled a voice that was coming from neither of their lips.
Startled, both men turned around to find Sasori a few feet away, scowling with his arms crossed. "It's not nice to talk shit about people behind their backs," he stated accusingly.
"Fine, I'll say it to your face then," Kisame sneered. "You're a creep. And keep your mouth shut about Zabuza, you hear me? He was not a pedophile!"
"Bullshit," Sasori said. "I saw him a few years ago... he was traveling with a little boy who dressed like a girl! If that's not creepy, I don't know what is."
"That kid's name was Haku," Kisame stated lividly. "And if he was still alive, he'd kick your rumor-starting ass. I think you're the pedo... you twisted everything up with your perverted imagination!"
"Eat a dick, Kisame," the redhead sneered, causing the swordsman to wrinkle his nose in disgust. "And by the way, you look like shit. What happened, did you get gang-raped or something?"
"Mention sex to me one more time, asshole," Kisame growled. "I swear I'll... disassemble you."
"I'd like to see you try," Sasori stated, narrowing his eyes.
"Ugh, cut it out, you two," Deidara sighed. "Sasori, leave us alone. Can't you see I'm trying to bandage his wounds?"
"Right, like that's all you're trying to do," the redhead growled, his voice betraying jealous rage. It was obvious the patience he'd been trying so hard to maintain during their journey had reached its limit. "Air-headed slut," he hissed, the words dripping with malice.
"Um..." Deidara stammered, his face hot. "That's not-"
"Excuse me?" Kisame snapped at the puppetmaster, both cutting Deidara off and startling him at the same time. "What the fuck did you just say?" His glare was absolutely murderous as he rigidly rose to his feet, his bandaged hands flexing at his sides. Despite his wounds and his gaunt appearance, the swordsman was still frightening as hell, towering threateningly over the redhead. "Take it back. Now," he said.
As the two glared at eachother, Deidara shivered, his heart pounding in his chest. He was shocked that Kisame was so readily defending his honor... it would actually be romantic if it wasn't so terrifying. Damnit, Sasori, he fretted. Apologize before he *kills* you! While the redhead was definitely strong, there was no doubt that Kisame was stronger - especially with the advantage of the terrain. Considering the glares the two were exchanging, the dispute could result in Sasori's artificial corpse washing ashore with the tide. And no matter what an asshole the puppetmaster could be at times, he didn't deserve to die over it.
I knew these two were going to end up at eachother's throats... the blonde brooded. I'd intervene if I thought it would do any good. As it was, he'd probably just end up getting caught in the crossfire.
"Fuck off, Kisame," Sasori finally hissed. "You're obviously in no condition to fight me." His hand was poised at the collar of his coat, ready to shed the garment the second things became violent.
"You sure about that?" Kisame growled. "Open your eyes," he said, gesturing at the nearby ocean. "Can't you see your disadvantage?! Just apologize before I end you."
Another long pause ensued as the two continued to stare eachother down with murder in their eyes. Sasori's gaze flickered briefly to the ocean then back - after another tense minute or two he finally eased his defensive stance and sighed. "You're lucky we're on the coast," he growled. "I just don't feel like getting saltwater all in my joints... believe me, if this were anywhere else, I'd take you on in a heartbeat." The puppetmaster's ability to back down while upholding his enormous ego was amazing.
"Apologize," Kisame snarled. "And look at him while you do it."
"Oh, for crying out loud..." Sasori mumbled, rolling his eyes dramatically before glaring over at the blonde. "Deidara, you're not an air-headed slut, alright? I'm just in a terrible mood, incase you didn't notice."
"Why?" Deidara asked timidly.
Sasori didn't say anything in response, he just gestured wildly as if to say, why do you think?! He turned to leave, cursing under his breath. "By the way, where the hell is Itachi?" he said. "I thought he'd be with you, Kisame."
"No clue," Kisame curtly responded, still tense with anger. "We split up days ago."
"Huh," Sasori mumbled. "That sucks. I want to get this shitty mission over with." With that said he left, stalking rigidly through the coastal forest until he was out of sight.
"Well... that was uncomfortable," Deidara sighed. When he saw that Kisame was now glaring at him, he cringed and looked away.
"Why does Sasori know about us?" the swordsman growled. "Did you forget it was supposed to be a secret?"
"No, I didn't forget," the blonde snapped, his face hot. "Sasori saw that damn bite mark - he ripped the bandage off my neck while I was sleeping!"
Kisame snorted. "Ridiculous," he muttered. "You know, you're partly the reason Itachi found out, too."
"Wait... what?!" Deidara exclaimed.
As the swordsman briefly explained the details of the spying mission, Deidara felt too embarrassed for words. Kurotsuchi, you bitch! he fretted. Why would you still talk about how I'm obsessed with Kisame?! Get a life, already! And Akatsuchi was no better... still dumb as a brick, clinging to childish moral values. Before Deidara had gone rogue, the oaf had been convinced that homosexuality was a cureable disease, repeatedly giving him the exact same 'it's not too late to change' speech like a councilor with down syndrome. And they wondered why I left! the blonde seethed. I can't believe that years later, those two are still making my life miserable!
"So... Itachi is the one who did this to you," he stammered.
Kisame cursed under his breath and diverted his eyes. "You already knew that," he growled. "It would be pointless to lie to you." His face had become a stoic mask, as if he was afraid that he might divulge even more just by his expression.
"Well... what the hell happened?!" Deidara demanded. He realized he was clenching his fists with anger and forced himself to relax. He was so furious he felt like he might faint.
Kisame shrugged. "We had a fight, obviously," he said. "And he kicked my ass."
"So... he gave you frostbite when he fought you?" the blonde asked. "Come on, you're a fuckin' wreck! Did he do that Tsukiyomi thing to you again?"
"Look, I just have an ability to drive him over the edge from time to time." the swordman sighed. "We've been around eachother almost constantly for several years... what do you expect?"
Deidara grated his teeth with frustration. Kisame was skirting around the truth, reciting rote responses that divulged nothing. Getting any real information out of him was like trying to get blood from a turnip. I'll just have to ask Itachi, then, he seethed. When I'm done with him, he'll never lay a hand on Kisame again! He looked back on his fight with Sasori, how it had ended up in a weird, borderline rape. For a few days after that, he had been too upset to eat - feeling rage and then guilt before finally reaching a bearable form of acceptance. Is that why Kisame's such a mess? he wondered. Did Itachi...
He cursed loudly and rose to his feet, too enraged to sit still. "I'm gonna go get my clothes," he said, trying to keep his voice calm. I want to have my clay ready for when that bastard shows up.
As he turned to leave, Kisame grabbed his wrist. His grip was so tight it hurt. "I know what you're scheming," he growled.
"Ow, shit," Deidara gasped. He tried to wrench free but the grip only tightened. "Let go," he grated.
Kisame didn't let go. "Listen to me," he snarled. "If you try to fight Itachi, you'll have to go through me. Do you understand?" He sounded furious and slightly desperate.
"No, I don't understand," Deidara snapped, confused. "Why the fuck would you protect him?!"
"I'm protecting you, not him," the swordsman growled. "I know this hurts your ego, but you're no match for Itachi. He's stronger than you think and he's also out of his fucking mind right now... if you start shit with him, he'll murder you without hesitation. Do you understand?" His appearance had suddenly shifted from passive to threatening - he looked absolutely terrifying.
Deidara averted his eyes, fighting down a wave of fear. "How did you expect me to react?" he said weakly. The grip around his wrist was becoming agonizing, cutting off the circulation to his hand.
"I expected you to react exactly like this," Kisame said. "So that's why I'm telling you. Don't fight Itachi. I'll break your arms if I have to!" It was clear in his tone that it wasn't an idle threat. "Now tell me you understand!" he urged.
"Fine, I understand!" Deidara heaved, wincing. "Now let go of me!" When Kisame finally released his grip, the blonde cursed and clutched his aching wrist. It hurt like hell, but his ego hurt even more. He thinks I'm such a weakling, he seethed. I'm not some child he needs to watch over! "I need to be alone," he muttered. When he turned to leave this time, the swordsman didn't stop him.
* * *
The day passed slowly. Tension was so high it felt like electricity in the air. Deidara didn't go in the water again - he was afraid that Itachi would show up the second he got undressed. Despite Kisame's threats, he still wanted to be prepared for the worst. I'm going to ask Itachi what happened regardless, he thought. If a fight ensues, I'll call it self-defense. He wouldn't break my arms over that, would he? Despite reason telling him to keep his distance from the Uchiha, he couldn't help but plot for battle. He made sure he had enough clay and agonized over various strategies. Ever since his last fight with Itachi, he'd been training his left eye to counter sharingan, unbeknownst to his comrades. I have a few edges that no one knows about, he brooded. Sharingan or not, he wouldn't be able to counter my C4 Karura...
The thought of Itachi disintigrating into a bloody heap was so enticing it almost made him hard. Even the looming threat of Kisame - who was terrifying in battle - stepping in to stop him wasn't enough to dissuade him completely. Getting revenge on Itachi was something he wanted more than anything... whether it happened today or years down the road, ultimately nothing could prevent it.
Morning turned to afternoon, afternoon turned to evening, and still there was no sign of Itachi. Perhaps he's afraid to fight me, Deidara thought. No... that's ridiculous. Maybe he died or something! That would be disappointing. He considered going and asking Kisame what the hold-up was but pushed away the thought. He doesn't know any better than I do, he told himself. We'll probably just end up having another dispute. He hadn't seen Kisame or Sasori since earlier... everyone was too pissed off to interact with eachother.
When the sun finally set, Deidara felt a queue from Pain. He closed his eyes and answered, finding himself immediately in a cave surrounded by the other members. He looked around suspiciously to find everyone there but Itachi. Damnit, he *did* die, he thought. I jinxed myself!
* * *
Kisame wasn't at all surprised not to find Itachi at the meeting. He's doing the same thing he did last time he fucked me up, he thought bitterly. He's hiding like a bitch.
Everyone started talking at once, various versions of 'where's Itachi?' It wasn't until Pain literally started shouting that they all shut up.
"Itachi's not going on the mission," their leader snapped, irritated. After another bout of mumbling and noise from the other members, he interjected, "He's taking some time off. The details don't concern you!"
"What the hell?" Hidan griped. "Why does he get time off? I haven't had a single break since I joined!"
"You only joined a few months ago," Kakuzu growled. "So quit whining."
"Like I said, the details don't concern you," Pain repeated. "You're to continue this mission without him."
"None of us are sensory types," Sasori pointed out. "It's going to make things a lot more difficult."
"Kisame's somewhat of a sensory type," Pain replied - the swordsman shrugged as if to say, only somewhat. "And Deidara should be able to find the compound from the sky."
"That's not the problem," the redhead insisted. "How are we supposed to know who's inside? Orochimaru could be in there with an entire army and we'd be clueless!"
"Yah, Samehada can pick up on chakra, but it can't tell me who it senses," Kisame said dryly. "We should just abort the mission. It's too risky."
"You're not aborting the mission," Pain insisted. "Hidan and Kakuzu are nearby if you need backup - just call a meeting if anything goes wrong."
"If we're being mauled by Orochimaru and his cronies, it's going to be difficult to call a meeting!" the swordsman growled. "This is ridiculous!"
"It's also an order," Pain snapped. "Now everyone disperse... except for you, Kisame."
Kisame sighed as the images of the other members disappeared. Yah, this is exactly like what happened last time, he brooded. Down to a tee.
Something flickered next to Pain - Kisame was shocked when he saw that it was none other than Madara. He hadn't seen their leader since he'd left Kiri... he'd begun to think that the elusive man was just a figment of his imagination.
"It's been a while, Kisame," Madara said. His sharingan gave the swordsman a chill - it was brighter and somehow more malicious than Itachi's.
Kisame was so caught offguard that he was tongue-tied for a moment. Finally, he managed to stammer a formal greeting of some sort.
"I'm just here because I want to know what happened to Itachi," Madara continued. "You see, he's here with us in Amegakure... he came in looking like a drowned rat."
"That's probably because it was raining," Kisame said bitterly. Met with not one pair of intimidating eyes but two, he sighed and said, "I'm guessing he didn't tell you anything, or else you'd know that I'm not the one at fault here. Can't you tell that just by looking at me?"
"You look like you're indulging in self-pity," Madara stated bluntly. "Just get over yourself and let Samehada heal you."
"Itachi's a wreck," Pain added. "He's had a mental breakdown. You must have had something to do with it, so just tell us!"
"What the fuck," Kisame shouted, furious. "He beat me within an inch of my life and left me for dead, and that's my fault somehow? I'm the one who's a wreck here and you two just dote on Itachi like he's a goddamned child!"
"Watch your mouth," Madara snapped. "Say another insult and I'll kill you myself! You don't know a damn thing about Itachi and what he's been through!"
"It's not my fault he doesn't tell me anything," the swordsman growled. "Either way, we had an argument over something stupid and he just snapped, alright? After kicking me like a dog when I was down, he gave me one of his little 'if you seek revenge' speeches, then left me to freeze to death in a fuckin' cave! He's probably feeling guilt, if anything!"
Madara and Pain were silent for a moment as they both seemed to contemplate. They're probably still trying to justify blaming me for this, Kisame thought miserably. This *is* just like last time, only there's two people interrogating me instead of one. When Itachi had subjected him to the Tsukiyomi, it had been the same story. Even though the Uchiha had been the aggressor, he had wound up being perceived as the victim. Kisame was certain that the reason was mostly physical - he was the sharky brute while Itachi was the innocent looking pretty boy. I'm getting blamed because of my appearance, he seethed. They probably think I raped him! Oh, the irony!
"Fine, I believe you," Madara finally said. "Itachi's been under a lot of stress... I suppose it wouldn't be below him to take it out on you. You do seem to bring out the worst in him sometimes."
You have no idea, Kisame thought bitterly. "So he gets a break while I go blindly into a dangerous mission?" he said.
"We're not giving him a break," Madara snapped. "He simply isn't... functioning. Don't mistake this for some kind of Uchiha clan preference, alright?"
"So next time I'm feeling shitty, I can go to Amegakure and pity myself for a while?" the swordsman said sarcastically.
"Don't push it, Kisame," Madara growled. "And man up. You've been through worse."
"No, I haven't," Kisame curtly replied.
"I made you an Akatsuki member because you have a solid character," Madara stated. "Don't prove me wrong. It's bad enough that Itachi's down for the count right now... like trying to play shogi without all the pieces. If I lose another pawn, I'll be pissed! And for crying out loud, just heal yourself. No one wants to see your stupid wounds." And then he was gone.
For a minute Pain just stared at him before speaking. "I would have called off the mission if you weren't there," he finally said. "Don't shatter like Itachi did... weapons that break under stress are useless to the Akatsuki." He then followed Madara's lead and vanished, leaving Kisame with a mouthful of bitter responses.
First Madara calls me a pawn, then Pain has to add in the weapon analogy, he seethed. But aparently Itachi can 'shatter' all he wants and still be considered useful. Regradless of how unfair it was, Kisame didn't exactly disagree with either man's metaphore - he had accepted the fact that he was little more than a tool when he was just a child. I suppose I'm being a hypocrite, he told himself. It's unprofessional to let myself waste away like this.
When he opened his eyes, he found Sasori and Deidara looming over him, as if they might divulge something from his unuttered conversation.
"Damnit, you two," he muttered. "Mind your own business."
"Where the hell is Itachi?" Deidara pressed, undaunted.
"Having a nervous breakdown somewhere," Kisame growled as he stiffly rose to his feet. "Now leave me alone... I just got bitched out by Pain for... I don't even know why. So I'm in no mood to talk." He deliberately left out the part about Madara... as far as he knew, Itachi, Kakuzu and Zetsu were the only others members who knew of their true leader's existance. Everyone else was kept in the dark to prevent the information from leaking, a reasonable precaution.
"Don't flatter yourself," Sasori sneered. "I don't give a shit about your problems. I just want to know when we can finally start this ridiculous mission."
Kisame sighed and popped his back. "Well, we have no choice but to start in the morning," he stated. "There's no point in searching around blindly in the dark."
"Fine," Sasori said. "I'm going to go tune up my puppets and think about how much I hate you." He strode off into the treeline, cursing under his breath.
"He's been a dick ever since we arrived here," Deidara explained, as if apologizing in the redhead's lieu. "The idea of us together bothers the hell out of him for some reason."
"If I was him, I'd be pissed off, too," Kisame said as he shifted Samehada on his back. "Someone as pretty as you, attracted to an ugly bastard like me... even I'm confused."
Deidara shrugged, blushing slightly. "I have a weird taste in men, what can I say?" he stammered. "I think you're fuckin' hot." When he reached out and touched Kisame's shoulder, it took the swordsman every ounce of willpower not to flinch. "Do you really have to be alone right now?" he asked shyly.
Kisame muttered a curse, too emotionally exhausted to know what he was feeling. "I'm sorry," he finally said, brushing Deidara's hand away. "I need some time to myself."
The expression on the blonde's face was the textbook definition of disappointment. "You've been by yourself all day!" he huffed. "Don't you miss me at all?"
Kisame shifted uncomfortably and looked out to the sea. "I guess," he muttered. "But I just can't handle being around anyone right now. I have too much on my mind." With that said, he turned and walked away, leaving Deidara standing alone on the beach. "And don't follow me," he growled over his shoulder.
He went back to his makeshift camp feeling like a worthless piece of shit. His coldness towards Deidara had actually shocked him - he didn't know he had it in him to be such a dick. As he sat down on the mat of palm fronds he had arranged over the ground, he was slightly disappointed that the blonde hadn't doggedly followed him. Perhaps I've finally managed to drive him away, he brooded. I suppose it would be for his own good. Nonetheless, the thought gave him no consolation - it made him feel worse, if that was even possible.
For a while, he was too embroiled in his own misery to do anything. He just sat still as stone, glaring at nothing in particular as terrible thoughts raced through his mind. All the things he usually blocked out were leaking into his consciousness - regrets, failed ambitions, that sinking feeling he got sometimes that he was falling off a cliff. He wished he had some booze... anything to take the edge off.
About half an hour passed before he finally let Samehada heal him. It was for the mission more than anything, although Madara had made him feel like an idiot for not doing it sooner. Honestly, he hadn't realized that his injuries had become so dire until Deidara brought attention to them. When the process was over, he blandly glanced over himself. The wounds were gone but he was still way too thin - neither he nor Samehada had very much chakra at the moment, relatively speaking. I need to eat something, he told himself. This is getting ridiculous. But the idea of putting anything in his mouth still repulsed him to the point where just thinking about it made his stomach turn. Either way, he didn't even have any food - the bit he had bought at the beginning of his journey had gone bad days ago. While it would be easy enough to catch a few fish, it was even easier not to bother. The nuances of living that people usually did without thinking had become like unbearable tasks in his mind. He remembered waking up on the cold cave floor that one morning, slipping in and out of death's embrace. How easy it would have been just to succumb! Now, a week later, part of him wanted to feel it again, that welcoming sensation of just... letting go.
He hadn't even realized he'd fallen asleep until the feel of someone's finger poking his shoulder snapped him back into consciousness. His fist swung out before he could stop it, connecting with what felt like a face.
"Goddamnit, Kisame! What the fuck!!"
The swordsman's eyes focused to find Deidara crouched at his side, scowling and clutching his mouth. A trickle of blood oozed through his fingers, black in the moonlight.
"Shit," he growled, rising to a sitting position. "You gotta stop waking me up like that."
"Obviously," Deidara huffed, his voice muffled against his hand. "That fuckin' hurt!"
Kisame sighed and shrugged, wondering bleakly if he had broken the blonde's jaw as he forced himself fully awake. "Sorry," he muttered. "But what the hell were you thinking?"
Deidara pulled his hand away and spit out a mouthful of blood. "I was thinking about how much I miss you, you asshole," he heaved, glaring at the swordsman accusingly. After a moment or so, his glare finally softened, replaced with the shy, nervous look Kisame had begun to recognize as his 'I have such a huge crush on you' face. "Well... I guess I wasn't thinking about much else," he stammered. "I didn't mean to scare you."
"Whatever," Kisame sighed, too exhausted to feel guilty. He reached up and roughly probed the blonde's jawline, looking for a break. Luckily, it was still intact. "I thought I told you to leave me alone," he added blandly as he withdrew his hand.
"Fuck you, Kisame," Deidara said bitterly. "Isn't it obvious that I'm worried about you?"
"It is," Kisame stated. "And you need to stop. It's pointless to be concerned." He laid back down and looked up at the sky, noting half-heartedly that the moisture from the sea cloaked most of the stars. A small part of him was glad that Deidara had shown up but the rest just wanted him to go away. The feeling reminded him of the way animals crawled off to be alone while they died.
"Well then, I guess what I'm feeling is just pointless," Deidara murmured. "But I can't help it." He shifted a little and Kisame noticed out of the corner of his eye that the blonde was holding a bottle of sake. The fact that he hadn't noticed it sooner just proved that his senses were slipping due to starvation... the realization should have distressed him but it didn't.
"Where'd you get the sake?" he growled. "Did you burn down another encampment?"
Deidara laughed softly, his eyes gleaming in the moonlight. "No, you prick," he said. "I bought it a few days ago when Sasori and I passed through a village. I was saving it for a special occasion, hmm?"
"Meaning me?" Kisame asked increduously. "The last time we got drunk together, I fucked you so hard you bled!" When he saw that the blonde was blushing and biting his lip, he remembered that rough treatment was one of the brat's turn-ons. Sighing, he propped himself up on one elbow and snatched the bottle, uncorking it with his teeth. "We have a mission in the morning," he said blandly after he spat out the cork, trying to dissuade himself more than anything. But I guess I don't give a shit, he thought, raising it to his lips. I've never wanted booze so bad in my life! He took a big slam, glaring up at the muted, pastel stars as he consumed enough to ensure that he'd feel it immediately.
When he lowered the bottle, Deidara was grinning shyly. "I forgot how bad you hog booze," he said, although there was nothing accusing in his tone.
"I'm bigger than you," Kisame muttered, letting the blonde take the bottle from his hand. "It takes more to get me drunk."
"I have my doubts about that," Deidara said after taking a drink. "You look like you haven't eaten in weeks... you should be careful."
A wry smirk slid briefly over the swordsman's lips. "I've been nowhere near careful lately," he mused. When he brushed some sand off his bare torso, he finally noticed in full how thin he had become - he had been purposely trying to ignore it. There was just... less of him than usual, as if some dumb magician was trying to make him disappear with only partial success. It was a lot of mass to lose in so little time... the physical strain of his journey had obviously taken a large toll. My body's starting to cannibalize itself, he noted apathetically.
"Hey," Deidara said, his eyes wide as if he was having some sort of an epiphany. "Did you heal yourself?"
"Umm, obviously I did," Kisame growled. He hadn't bothered to unwrap the bandages from his extremities, so he supposed it was possible to overlook something so blatant. "I had to for the mission..." he added, mildly embarrassed. "Sorry I wasted your time earlier."
"No, it's alright," Deidara replied softly. "I'm glad you did it. Although you're still thin as a rail."
Kisame shrugged listlessly. "Can't have everything," he muttered. He could hear that his words were slurring together slightly and was unnerved that so little alcohol was already affecting him. He looked up at Deidara, who was taking another shwill of sake, and wondered what the blonde was making of his situation. If he saw Deidara in a similar state - emaciated and half-dead - he would be furious. I can't blame him for wanting to kick Itachi's ass, he thought to himself. I'd react the same way.
For a while, both men were silent as they passed the sake back and forth, both of them drinking with a grim determination to get hammered. When the bottle was finally empty, Kisame sighed and tossed it into some bushes. "I could drink about three more of those," he muttered... although he wasn't sure of the fact. He could barely see straight.
Deidara snorted, rolling his eyes. "You're ridiculous," he said. He was sprawled out next to the swordsman, leaning back on his elbows. Their bodies were close together but not quite touching... Kisame had a feeling the blonde was using a fair amount of restraint to keep a bit of distance. "You know, I never thought I'd see you act this way," he added sourly.
"Act what way?" Kisame growled irritably. He had known that this conversation was going to happen eventually... the younger man was too damn nosy to leave it alone.
"Like this," Deidara sighed, as if to say 'do I need to explain?' He rummaged through his cloak and pulled something out. "It seems like you've just... given up," he murmured.
"Are you seriously lecturing me?" Kisame asked bitterly. He cursed, bristling involuntarily, when the blonde took his hand and placed the object in it.
"It's a food pill," Deidara stated. "Eat it, for crying out loud."
"I'm not-"
"Don't be a bitch," the blonde hissed, abruptly cutting him off. "Just eat it before I force it down your skinny throat." His voice sounded harsh and slightly desperate.
"I'm not fuckin' hungry," Kisame growled. He felt an urge to cram the pill somewhere into Deidara's body where it wasn't supposed to go. An eyesocket, maybe. He held it between his thumb and forefinger, glaring at it dully. "These things are bad for you anyway," he muttered as he began to crush it in his fingers.
It had barely begun to crack when the blonde snatched it from his grip. "That's it," he snapped, his tone suggesting that his patience had reached its limit. He muttered something under his breath - it sounded like 'I'm sorry' - then suddenly slapped the swordsman, hard, in the face. Dizzy and shocked, Kisame barely registered what had just happened before Deidara was on top of him, straddling his lap. Something smooth slithered around his wrists, binding them quickly above his head - he saw out of the corner of his eye that it was a clay snake. He cursed loudly, furious, and tried to throw the blonde off him but only succeeded in earning himself another slap - a backhand this time.
"What the fuck are you doing?!" he shouted hysterically. His ears were ringing from the blow and there was a metallic taste in his mouth - either blood or adrenaline, he couldn't tell.
"I'm trying to help you," Deidara hissed, breathing quickly. His large eyes were bright in the moonlight and his normally gentle face looked like it was carved out of stone. "I won't just sit idly by while you fuckin' starve yourself!" he growled through clenched teeth. He put a hand on the swordsman's forehead, using all his might to force the man's head to the ground.
"Put that fucking pill near my mouth and I'll bite your fingers off!!" Kisame raged, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. Being restrained like this was bringing forth a flashback so lucid it bordered on insanity. "I'll fucking kill you!" he shouted hoarsely. In his delerium, the blonde's moonlit eyes blurred and morphed into sharingan and his concerned expression became a horny leer.
"There's a clay bomb around your wrists," Deidara said quietly. "I'll detonate it if that's what it takes." He held up the pill and eased it cautiously to the swordsman's lips. "Just eat the goddamned pill and I'll let you go," he stated.
But Kisame was no longer listening. He struggled furiously at his binds, blind with animalistic panic. When Deidara deftly popped the food pill into his mouth, he snapped his jaw shut so hard it chipped a few teeth, missing the blonde's fingers by a hairswidth. Before he could spit the pill out, Deidara's hand clamped firmly over his mouth, forcing it closed with so much pressure he could feel the teeth lining the younger man's palm grating against his own. He couldn't understand why the blonde was overpowering him so easily - when had he gotten so strong?
"You're weak because you're starving," Deidara panted, as if reading his thoughts. His arms were trembling with strain and his face was flushed. "I shouldn't be able to hold you down like this! Now swallow the fucking pill!"
Kisame's eyes were wide with fury, seeing nothing but sharingan red as he continued to struggle with a madness and desperation he didn't know he possessed. When Deidara grimly covered his nose, he still resisted, growling and choking against the blonde's palm until his lungs burned and his vision tunneled. Deidara was desperately yelling something at him but he couldn't make out the words in his hysteria. Finally the lack of air forced his body to act on its own and reflexively swallow, a shudder running violently down his spine as he felt the pill slide down his throat.
"...fuckin' finally!" Deidara gasped. He released Kisame's mouth and nose, letting the swordsman catch his breath, but kept his head pressed firmly to the ground.
As Kisame gasped for air, his adrenaline dwindled along with his delerium, leaving behind a sickly revulsion that made his stomach clench and his throat tighten. He cursed weakly and gagged, too spent to struggle anymore. "Let me go," he heaved, his voice sounding hoarse and pathetic to his own ears. "I'm gonna fuckin' vomit."
When Deidara released him, dissipating the clay snake with a hand sign, his eyes were wide as if he was looking at a complete stranger. "Please just try to hold it down," he murmured, sounding dazed. He tried to help Kisame sit up but the swordsman weakly shoved him away.
For a while, he could do nothing but kneel and hang his head, fighting the bile rising in his throat. His mouth watered, his vision blurred, and it felt like someone had kicked him in the stomach with steel-toed boots. He hadn't tried to eat anything since he'd first left the Land of Earth... he'd had no idea his condition had gotten so much worse. Food pills were tiny! Yet it sat like a sick lump of lead in his stomach. After a few minutes of coughing and spitting, the nausea finally subsided, leaving him exhausted and trembling. He felt like he might faint.
"Are you alright?" Deidara asked softly. Kisame felt the blonde's hand cautiously touch his back, rubbing it gently the way a parent would do if their kid was throwing up.
"Get away from me," Kisame rasped, his hands clutching his knees so hard the knuckles were white. He had taken off his bandana earlier in the night and his hair hung in messy spikes over his eyes. "I should fuckin'..." He trailed off before he could finish the threat, suddenly too overwhelmed to form words. His breath was coming in ragged, shallow gasps, making him dizzy and lightheaded, and his heart was pounding frantically in his chest. Something wet was running down his face and falling in drops onto the mat of palm fronds on the ground... his vision was so blurry that he couldn't tell what it was. "Am I bleeding?" he choked.
Deidara's fingers paused for a second before massaging his back again, his touch so gentle it was heartbreaking. "No," he said quietly. "Those are tears."
Bullshit, Kisame told himself, biting his lip. It's either blood or rain. He wanted to say it outloud but he was afraid that if he opened his mouth again he'd start sobbing.

*AUTHOR'S NOTE* Meh. Sorry about all the angst. Seriously. This chapter made me wanna curl up into a fetal position and start crying by the end. Ugh... what the hell is the matter with me?! Anyway, expect some DeiKisa in the next chapter - I've already written it, heheh - and a weird flashback where Kisame gets, err... *boned* by someone. Not gonna reveal who though cuz I hope you'll be all biting your lip with suspense. 'Oh my god lauren's such a genius! That's so exciting! I can't fuckin' wait!' That's what you're saying right now... right? Heheh... obviously I'm just kidding.
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