The summer air warmed the small Iwagakure park, and the light breeze blew sand onto my uncovered feet. I stared at the clump of sand before me, until my mother's hand on my shoulder interrupted my thoughts. I peered up at her as she said, "Deidara, look." She turned me around to face a woman with her hand on a girl's shoulder in the same fashion. The woman smiled warmly, her brown hair blowing into her face slightly. Her daughter, on the other hand, had diluted blonde hair that was long in front and shaped her face, but the back was a few inches shorter. She stared at me in wonder, her dull, blue eyes boring into mine. "Deidara..." Mother's voice caused me to look up at her, "This is Okamoto Misako."

I looked back to the girl, who had a small, kind smile on her face, "Happy birthday." I grinned at her in reply. Her voice was beautiful, though she was my age... still a child.

It was my fifth birthday. It was also the day I met my new friend, Misako.

Mother walked me closer to Misako, and Misako's mother walked her closer to me. We stood silent for a while, analyzing each other, until she held out her hand. I shook her hand hesitantly, and our mothers looked down at us in awe. We froze again, still holding hands, until our mothers patted our backs and walked back to a nearby bench to chat. Misako and I didn't take our eyes off each other. Finally, she said, "I like your hair, Deidara." I felt myself blush at the compliment. Did she mean my yellow, shoulder-length hair that covered my left eye? My hair was too blonde for its own good.

"I like your hair, too," I muttered. I wasn't the social type of kid. All of my 'friends' were kids of my mother's friends. None of them stood out to me, and neither did this girl. Though she was less stupid and immature as the rest, she didn't want to be near such a strange kid like the rest. Like all the others before, she'll be forced to hang around me for a month, then slowly find more normal children to be around, and when her mother asks her why she hasn't seen me in a long time, she'll just complain that I wasn't normal like her new, self-chosen friends. That's why I didn't make an effort to make friends, since they all ended up leaving me anyways.

Realizing we were still shaking hands, I quickly brought my hand down, avoiding her eyes shyly. She didn't seem to mind anything I did, though. Nothing I said made her cringe in disgust. She never isolated me when her mother wasn't looking. Our mothers would look over at us building separate sand castles periodically and giggle to each other about how cute we were, and we'd both look back at them with huge grins plastered on our faces, and when we'd turn back our faces would be as emotionless as they were before. My smile, like hers, was usually a facade when regarding our guardians. We had nothing against them, they just didn't understand our minds were not like other children on the playground around us.

Every time I'd go do something around the park – whether it was to climb a tree, go down a slide, ask Mother a question, or sit in the sandbox – she'd follow me there and stand behind me while I did whatever I went there to do. She rarely spoke to me unless I said something to her in which she needed to respond or to compliment me. No matter how much I told myself she wasn't going to be around for long... she was.

********

"Haha!" I yelled triumphantly, holding a superhero pose, one leg placed on top of a small boulder. "You think you can beat me? Think again!" My grin widened as I looked back at the shy Misako, "Isn't that right, Misako-chan?"

She looked up from the ground, and smiled, "Of course, Deidara-kun, you're always right." My toothy smile grew bigger at her submission to my greatness, as usual, and gave her a quick thumbs-up. As I began to turn back to the annoying boys that had started the battle, I saw her expression change to neutral, and her eyes move back to the floor, shifting uncomfortably. I saw that all she wanted to do was show she had my back during anything, but I also knew she thought I was the best thing to set foot on earth. In her eyes, I was god. A god that always smiled down on her.

"There's no way we can lose to girls like you two!" one of the boys yelled back. He glanced at Misako, "Hey, why don't you come hang out with us? Why would you stay with him when you could have an older man?" Misako blushed and kept her gaze on the autumn leaves surrounding her feet. When the boy saw she didn't make an effort to leave my side, he said, "Fine, girly, keep hanging around that 10-year-old, even though you had a chance to be with an eleven-year-old."

My brow furrowed at his implications, "Hey! We're not boyfriend and girlfriend, got it?! We're just best friends!" I flipped my elbow-length hair from my aqua blue eyes and saw her frown slightly and her blush darken, but she smiled a little, too. Out of anger, I lifted my hand so my open palm was facing them, and smirked as I felt the mouth on it open and the tongue slip out to lick its lips. The boys' faces turned to horror and disgust, and they back up a few feet, keeping my hand away from them. "Run, you cowards!" I screamed as they turned to retreat, admitting defeat at last. I laughed victoriously until I felt Misako push my arm down with her hand.

"Deidara-kun, stop that! Your mother doesn't like when you show it to people, and you know that!" She didn't yell or raise her voice. She never did. Her tone was soft and stern. My face scrunched a little in pity and apology. I forgot how uncomfortable it made her feel, and how she didn't like when people looked at me like I was a freak. I muttered a quick apology before having the tongue retreat back into the mouth, closing it.

We stood still and silent for a long while until I looked at her and smiled gratefully, "Thanks, you're always looking out for me."

********

The short, dead grass swayed as the wind blew over the cliff. I stood silently, the mouths on my hands at work. I inhaled deeply, lifting my arm until it was straight out in front of me, palm facing the cloudy sky. I concentrated as I felt the mouth open and spit the wad of clay into the palm of my hand in the shape of a small bird. As the mouth shut, I closed my hand to form a fist, holding the new piece of intricate art. I exhaled slowly, opening my eyes. I peeked down to see Misako standing at the bottom of the cliff, arms folded, watching me perform. I smiled wide, "I did it!" I saw her smile vaguely.

"Took long enough, Deidara-san," she yelled to me sarcastically.

I leaped off the edge of the cliff, falling until I landed on the ground in a crouched position, smashing the new sculpture on the dry dirt. I stood up, walking over to where she stood. "You're very talented, Deidara-san..." I placed a hand on her head, mussing up her hair. She seemed somewhat annoyed by the action, but turned around without a word, walking back toward the village.

"Ne, Misako-chan... can I stay at your place again tonight?" For the past few weeks, I'd go home in the middle of the night, and leaving early the next morning. I didn't like being around my mother much anymore, being thirteen, and Misako had been more than willing to let me crash with her whenever I didn't want to deal with the stress of going home. Besides, my mother had my younger sister to deal with, anyways.

"Sure," she responded. I ran to catch up with her, beginning our long walk back to Iwagakure.

I was training myself to perform jutsu not many could, unless they had the odd physical defect I had. Though the couple extra mouths enabled me to create beautiful works of art with clay, my abnormality tended to disturb people. I'd been praised for my innate artistic skills for years, but I wanted to acquire a much larger prize than just admiration. A few teachers from the past had asked to keep a masterpiece or two, and I always impolitely declined. None of them understood what art truly was... It was not something to keep in a museum forever – it was a momentary display of absolute beauty. Anyone who believed anything different was an uneducated fool.

"So, Deidara-san," she said quietly, "why are you so into your clay ninjutsu? I haven't seen you do much within the past couple months besides work on it."

I grinned down at her; she could say such stupid things sometimes, "It is pure art, Misako-chan."

"I-I'm sorry, but I don't think I understand –"

"I don't blame you for not understanding, of course. I don't think you could understand if you tried, actually. It's something you learn. It's just a matter of whether you learn correctly. You have grown up imagining that art is a painting, or something decorative to keep for centuries – but it's not. Art is something that doesn't keep. Something artistic is special. It lasts no more than a second. They say the best things in life are quick and last but a moment. Art is that 'best moment'. If you feel it's not quick, or that you don't have to check to make sure you actually saw it, then it wasn't art. Art is fleeting. Art is transient. Art is..." I paused to think of the right word.

"...An explosion," she whispered softly. I felt what she had just said click in my head, and I looked down at her.

I grinned, "That's right, Misako-chan. Art... is an explosion."

********

Misako's shadow in the doorway caught my attention, "Deidara-sama? Are you here?" Her soft, mature voice echoed throughout the room. I turned in time to see her enter, wearing a purple kimono with pink flowers on it and carrying a tea tray, with her blonde-beige hair tied up in a messy ponytail, a few strands hanging loose around her pale face, "I brought you some tea, just as you asked. I hope you're not overworking yourself, Deidara-sama..." I walked to meet her at the entrance of my home, pointing to a table for her to set the tray down on. She looked at me with a concerned expression, seeing the beads of sweat on my face. The feeling of the March air blow through the room cooled me, and I remembered it was Misako's birthday last week. Attempting to look up at her, my eyes halted at her breasts, which were busting out the top of her kimono. Fifteen must be the magic number, eh?

I put my hand on her shoulder, "It's been a month since I've seen you, hasn't it, Misako?" She nodded, looking around the room. "I took your advice and decorated it a little. Maybe wooden statues of gods weren't what you had in mind, Misako, but I think it shows my serious, artistic style."

She turned to me suddenly, shaking my hand off, "Deidara-sama, I saw some people in odd cloaks headed this way. I can't imagine they're clients of yours, so I thought I'd make you aware." She's always looking out for me, even if I don't ask her to.

After I fled the village for stealing a kinjutsu that enabled me to explode my clay creations as weapons and killing my pursuers, I realized I had finally found the art I had been searching for: Art of a Single Moment. I became a missing-nin and worked as a terrorist bomber for those who needed an assassination done through explosions. I moved away from my family, of course, to a much smaller civilian town where I could work in private. About a week or so later, Misako appeared in my doorway, saying she'd tracked me somehow. Her loyalty to a criminal astounded me, and she offered to get me anything I needed so I could avoid being seen. So, every couple weeks, she'd appear with food and supplies, and, somewhere along the line, she decided to start wearing a kimono. She wouldn't tell me the excuse she gave to her mother whenever she traveled all the way here, but I respected her for going out of her way for me. Every time I'd ask her why she followed me, she'd simply respond, "Because I swore to protect you, Deidara-sama" and that'd be the end of it.

I looked beyond Misako and saw three men not too far, and walking in our direction: A tall one with black hair and pale skin, an all-around large one with small eyes and blue skin, and the third looked like a giant turtle with a wooden face and a black mask. They all wore black, button-down cloaks with red clouds, long, baggy sleeves, and an upturned collar.

"Misako, I need you to leave," I said gently, narrowing my eyes at the nearing men. She complied, stepping outside to stand on the steps, waiting to greet them.

As they approached her, she bowed slightly, muttering a soft, "Irasshaimase." The pale one glared at her before nodding in acknowledgment, and the blue one smirked at her, revealing shark-like fangs.

"Deidara?" the raven-haired one asked as his foot made contact with the wooden floor of my home.

"Who's asking?" I asked cautiously, still glaring.

The three entered the room, walking past me, scanning the place. I felt my lip twitched into a small grin as they looked at the art, probably in awe. ...No. They had to be in awe.

Now they were on the other side of the room, and I turned to face them completely when I heard the pale man speak again, "Deidara. We have come to recruit you and make you a member of Akatsuki."

My eyes narrowed again. "Akatsuki?" I spat at them. "Like I care! Don't interfere with my appreciation of art." What nuisances!

The wooden man with the mask muttered something, then turned to the pale one slowly, "He's feisty, but looks like the type to die young."

"It's our leader's orders... we could use his powers," he responded, not turning away from me. My powers? Just how much did they know about me? These guys...

"You know about my power?" I questioned, "Just who the hell are –" The blue one cut me off.

"You're the bomb terrorist who's been supporting the anti-government factions in various lands. What purpose would that serve a rogue ninja like you?" he said casually.

These guys didn't get it at all. "Purpose? I have no purpose!" I scoffed at them. "I get requests to set off explosions, so I do. With my creations!" I added.

"Creations?" the wooden man repeated.

"That's right." I smirked at the opportunity to show off to these imbeciles as I clasped my hands together and ripped them apart again, a new masterpiece popping up in my palm. "Look!" I said, smiling, proud of my beautiful art. After a moment of no response, I pushed further for a reaction, "Well? Such refined lines, and a form that pursues two-dimensional deform. This is art!" The men just looked on, emotionless. I decided I'd have to show them and explain more to receive the reaction I wanted out of them. "But that's not all there is to my art! My creations flow! When it has shape, it's simply molded clay, un! But this explodes! And the explosion causes sublimation, and for the first time, the essence of my creation appears! That instant of sublimation is when I experience true art, hmm!" The tongue on my right hand-mouth licked its lips as I continued my speech. "Art is ...an explosion!" I yelled, quoting Misako. I stopped to catch my breath, exhausted from my incredible and philosophical lecture.

After a few moments of silence, the wooden man was the first to comment, "How annoying..."

"Is he done?" the blue man asked just as casually.

"Who knows..." the pale man replied.

My eyes widened with shock at their poor reactions. How could they deny the beauty of my art?

Then the pale man spoke again, closing his eyes,"Never mind... I'll do it." When his eyes opened again, they were a crimson colour. My eyes narrowed again, coming down from my high. What's with his eyes?

"You wanna fight?" I asked him, sensing the eye change was a sign of aggression.

He breathed a sigh, "If I win, you will become a member of Akatsuki."

I placed my creation in my right hand and shoved my left into the bag on my belt, allowing the mouth to stuff itself with clay. "Don't belittle me... or my art!" I shouted, "My ninjutsu is nothing but noble, refined art, un!" I put my hand behind my back as a newly formed clay centipede exited from the mouth on it, falling into the crack on the floor, probably growing larger and slithering to the men underground. "Feel my art!" I yelled, flinging the plump creation from before at the man with the oddly red eyes. He jumped up and back, right into the clay creature's path, as I shouted triumphantly, "Katsu!"

The man landed safely off to the side, though, completely unharmed. Then, right on cue, my clay centipede burst out through the wooden floor, surprising the man, and wrapping itself around him. I stepped back from my stance, laughing, "You talked big, but is that all you have?" I moved my hand to form that single hand seal, "It's over, hm!"

Just as I was about to set it off, the man spoke, "You should take a good look at yourself."

My eyes went wide again, "Huh?" His eyes went red again, and I suddenly couldn't move. "Wh-what?!" I struggled against the sudden bonds. The centipede was wrapped around me instead! A little later, and I would've exploded myself.

"That was close," the blue man said. "A little later and you would've blown yourself up."

"I told you he was the type to die young," was the wooden man's calm response.

"A Genjutsu? When?!" I asked in confusion, ignoring the previous remarks.

"From the very beginning. From the moment you looked into Itachi-san's Sharingan eye,you were under his Genjutsu," the blue man replied.

I stared at the floor in shock and confusion, until a bright stream of light shone into my eyes from where the wall had broken earlier. As my eyes adjusted, I looked up to see that man, Itachi, standing where the hole in the wall had formed, the sunlight silhouetting him. He looked like a saint, and it seemed everyone else, including Misako, had just disappeared; it was just him and me. I stared up at him in complete awe, mouth agape at the sight. Those Sharingan eyes looking down at me like a god's.

'Beautiful...' I thought, 'This is... art!' My clay centipede fell off of me to lay in a pile on the floor. The sound of it thudding shook me from the trance, and I bent over, my hand gripping at my eye.

"Damn! I became fascinated by the abilities of another?!" I murmured to myself. I moved my hand down a little to look back at the shining man. "That's art? No way... I refuse to acknowledge it!"

Itachi continued to stare down at me expressionlessly, "You lose."

I looked up at him again, helplessly. 'Don't mess with me!' I thought, 'I'm better than you! My ability is flawless... It's art that is unbeatable! I'm better than you! I can't lose...!' I felt the anger overcome me. 'Lose to such a...' I bit my lip until it bled, losing control of my fury, "Lose to such a...!"

********

"Gah... Master Sasori," I gasped, digging my nails into his polished, wooden back. Sweat covered my body, and my waist-length hair clung to my face. I shut my eyes tight as I was pushed over the edge, the white liquid splashing our stomachs. I collapsed on his bed as he towered over me, the expressionless glare boring into my tear-filled eyes.

This relationship with my Akatsuki partner, Sasori, began shortly after I was recruited into the organization. There were no feelings whatsoever, just pure business. He needed sex; I needed sex. Simple. Master Sasori would crack a humourless joke every so often after our "fling", referring to me as his virgin. Technically, though, I was. I had never been with a woman. There weren't any women around that I'd really go for, anyways, and I was probably the only person who'd go for a wooden child such as my master. I mean, not to say Sasori was unattractive, nor am I saying Konan, the only female Akatsuki, is either, but Sasori is made of wood, and Konan usually hangs out with the boss, Pein.

"We have a mission tomorrow, Deidara. You'd better get some rest," he said clearly, putting on his pants with his back turned to me.

I nodded, wiping the tears away with the back of my hand, and grabbed my cloak that had been discarded at some point. Our loveless relationship fulfilled everything we wanted: mindless sex with no strings attached. He was my master, and I was his puppet.

I opened the door and left without a word, walking across the narrow hallway to my own bedroom door. I turned the doorknob and it creaked open slowly, looking both ways to be sure no one saw me in this vulnerable state. Once I was safely inside with the door locked, I sobbed quietly into my hands, the tears being absorbed by the long sleeves of my cloak. I didn't know why I was crying, since it had never happened before after my sessions with Sasori. I simply felt this aching in my heart; a sudden emptiness. Though he and I agreed our sexual incidents had no feelings involved, I couldn't help feel a little lonely. I certainly didn't feel any connection with my master other than pure sexual desire and lust, but I suppose the thought of going through these risky acts every time we craved each other without much meaning attached to them depressed me a bit. I guess I felt I'd be taking these dangerous risks with more of a reward if I took them. I'm not too good at explaining my own emotions, even in my head. I did know one thing, though: I was still the inferior. I was the slave. I was the pet. I was the lackey everyone ordered around and questioned their abilities.

If I hadn't been trained so well to be a follower over the past three years, I definitely would've argued my artistic point of view further with Sasori. He believed in an art that lasted forever, which was opposite of me. We often debated on such subjects, but were quickly dismissed because Sasori would demand intercourse or some sort of intimate physical contact.

I sighed and walked to the opposite wall to look at my sweaty face in the mirror. I grunted and grabbed hold of my hair, bunching it together into a neat ponytail, leaving half of it hanging down since it couldn't all fit in my hand. I pulled the thick hair tie from my wrist, tying it around my hair. A remaining clump of hair hung over my left eye, completing my hairstyle. I slapped myself across the face gently to help get rid of some of the blush on my cheeks. I sighed again. This whole thing with Master Sasori and I... I'm not sure if it'll work anymore.

********

"W-what?!" I almost yelled at the petite woman before me.

"Deidara-sama... I came back for you," she said hopefully. She wore a knee-length dress that barely covered her shoulders and a tie around her waist to make it flatter her hips. There were slits on either side of the skirt portion from the waist down to the bottom. The trim was crimson and the background was black, except for the red clouds that decorated the fabric. She had black gloves that reached above her elbows and had the same crimson trim at the top. She also had stockings of the same fashion. She wore a black shirt beneath it that had a black mask attached to the top for easy disguise. When she pulled the mask down from her face, I almost didn't recognize her. She had cut her hair so it was long on one side, and was cut diagonally. The right side of her hair was longer than the left, but was still the same dull and sandy tone I remember.

"Misako... I don't need rescuing," I whispered, afraid my partner would overhear me. "I was recruited. Similar to how shinobi are recruited onto missions, except... my mission lasts for the rest of my life."

"Well..." she began, "I could always stay here, with you. Then we could run away from here and live the life we used to. Deidara-sama..." She paused. "...I was so lonely without you." Then I remembered. Misako was miserable without me there to guide her. Even after I'd assured her that I'd be safe living as a terrorist, she still came after me, less for me and more for her. Her naivete made me feel like I shouldn't leave her. I was afraid of what she'd do if I left her again.

"Misako... we were best friends, but my life has changed since two years ago," I began.

"But your partner died, didn't he? A konoha kunoichi killed him, right? So that means I could join Akatsuki--" I grabbed her shoulders instantly and shook her.

"Don't you ever think about joining this organization!" I yelled furiously. Ever since Sasori died on that mission... I couldn't handle it anymore. I went through a sexual withdrawal, and a deep depression due to sudden loneliness. He'd always said I was the type to die young, and I'd never expected him to go first. Even he had told me how he felt at certain points in Akatsuki. How he sometimes thought he'd end it himself. No one supported you. You were all on your own. I didn't want Misako to feel the same way, especially since I knew she wouldn't be able to handle it.

Tears welled up in her big, sky blue eyes. They began to fall, staining her cheeks. "I'm so sorry, Deidara-sama..." she sobbed, "I didn't realize how much you'd changed."

I pulled her into a tight embrace, wrapping my arms around her small waist. She just stood there, though, not hugging me back. Her head just kind of fell forwards as she cried harder, her hair blocking her face.

"Misako-chan... no matter how much I tell you to go, you're here to stay, aren't you?"

********

Chapter One is complete~! Hope you enjoyed all of Dei-chan's flashbacks. ^.^

I worked hard on this thing for a month, so please review and favourite! Review even if you didn't like it. ;P

There will soon be art done by a friend of mine on Misako's appearance, which I will post the link to next chapter. Thanks!

- Alice Rose