Strawberries

"Seeds."
.

They left the next morning, pinching into and out of space with the means of his Kamui.

"We should stay on the move, hm," Deidara had suggested, and he'd agreed.

There was trouble brewing because of him. Until they were prepared – and for Tobi's case, fully recovered – confronting either party of the war was unideal. He needed to strategize. Yet for once, he felt reluctant to do so. He was being lazy. As rare of a treat this break was, the urge to be productive itched at his brain.

What motivated him to think was, to no surprise, Deidara.

Because if he was careless, the man next to him could die.

If he predicted wrong and proved to be incapable of adapting to the future, the odds would be ill in their favour. For now, he had an advantage. No one but Deidara and Konan knew of his... shifting perspective. If he was wrong about this, at the very least, no one knew of their whereabouts. And as long as they kept moving, no one would know. For now, they were safe. And he had time to think.

His priority would be to keep the jinchuuriki away from the Akatsuki – or should he say, Zetsu and Kabuto. What would work to their advantage? Killing off Kabuto quietly, or getting the rest of the nations involved? No... Tobi couldn't take the risk of facing Kabuto's Madara alone. He needed to –

He stopped, unable to breathe, a cold sweat dripping down his face. Why he was struggling, he couldn't say.

Deidara noticed him rooted in place, "What's wrong? Hm."

Tobi swallowed, trembling, "I can't say."

"Let's take a break, hm. You're still injured," he reminded.

"That won't be necessary."

Deidara stepped closer, securitizing, "Shouldn't you be healed by now?"

"I am," he lifted both his arms as if to say see?.

"You're still weak," he said, "You look like some genin after their first fight, hm."

"I'll be fine," at Deidara's disbelieving look, Tobi resorted to using an excuse, "Konan was unexpected. That's all."

"If you say so..."

Tobi wasn't sure what to make of the apathy that settled over his heart. It was neither bitter nor cold, and true to its nature, it did not hold any warmth. It was only there. Nothing.

He'd clung onto the past for so long; letting it all go should have made him feel something, anything. But he supposed he already relinquished it a long time ago. The decision hadn't been spontaneous; he'd been second-guessing the plan in some shape or form since Deidara squirmed his way into his life. Rather, labelling this as a decision didn't feel right at all. What was there to decide? He loved Deidara. With every breath they both took, he loved him. Deidara was more important than some whimsical, childhood dream.

He was both offering a farewell and welcoming an Obito he had since forgotten.

There was no longer a weight on his shoulders. He felt lighter, free from burdens, and for once he didn't think. But something tight wrapped around his heart. Threatening. Hurting. It didn't add up. He was content, and if he dared to say it, happy. So, why was he hurting?

It had taken him a while, but he eventually realized the pain wasn't psychological at all. There was something physically wrapped around his heart. It squeezed any time he thought of Deidara or the plan, and especially together. It had burned when he had doubts. And right now, it was scorching. Like a sentient being, it noticed when he had thoughts of abandoning his life's work. How, he didn't know. How to get rid of it, he knew even less. Madara had always been thorough.

He had been such a fool. Tobi was still a brainwashed tool being held hostage, and he never suspected. His mind had eaten whatever was fed to him without question. Where it came from, why it was being given... he had never thought to ask himself.

Who was he now?

There was nothing left. Who he was, who he had been, who he wanted to be, who came out for the world to see – there was no congruency.

Who was Tobi?

A body, a weapon, a partner. But these were only titles.

He liked things, hated others. But these were only opinions.

He had goals, but they were a means to an end.

A breeze shook the trees. He lifted his head, enjoying the sensation. It never crossed his mind, how nice it could be to take in his surroundings.

At least, he had company. It was like before, them walking side by side under the canopy of trees. But it wasn't like before.

Tobi's mask was cracked, and their cloaks, gone. They were dirty and tired. When before the air had been comfortable, it was now filled with tension, ready to snap at any moment. Tobi wanted to pull at it, to see how far it would give. Would it pull them closer or further apart?

Tobi sucked in a breath, and he switched, voice sweet, "Deidara-senpai?"

If Deidara cared about the change in behaviour, he didn't show it, continuing to walk ahead of him in leisure, "Yeah? Hm."

Without a moment's delay, Tobi grabbed a fistful of golden hair and yanked, pulling Deidara in.

The man flailed, "What the fuck! Tobi!"

He twisted the hair in his hand, and Deidara's chin arched up with it. Meeting a wide eye with his own, Tobi grinned under his mask, nearly laughing at his expression, "Mm. I've always wanted to do that, senpai."

Deidara only gazed up at him, anger slipping away until something soft fell over it. He was smiling. Like he was fond.

Hm.

That was – this was good.

Maybe there was a chance –

No.

No, no, of course not. Only miserable hopes were left, and they were influencing his thoughts. The chances were slim, and the risk simply wasn't worth it. He didn't want to break what delicate relationship they had because of temptation. Physical needs were primitive and, as far as he was concerned, controllable. He had control.

Tobi let him go, letting out a breath with the effort.

Deidara brushed a hand through his hair, looking a little lost. Up and down. Finally, his arm fell to the side. Tobi saw his throat ripple as he swallowed, and his voice wavered when he said, "That hurt, hm."

Tobi replied as himself, disagreeing, "It didn't."

"Oh yeah? How would you know?"

They've long since stopped walking, now standing under the shadows of the trees. As much of a mess they both were, Deidara's hair remained tangle-free today.

Tobi reached out again and held a few strands of gold between his gloved fingers, twisting idly, "You've had limbs severed off and hardly flinched. What's a little hair pulling?"

Tobi then also added, teasing, "You've grown weaker, senpai."

"Say that again. I dare you, hm," he glared, but there was no heat in it. If anything, Tobi could see the laughter dancing in his eyes.

God, he could kiss him.

He could.

Feeling as lost as Deidara looked, Tobi ran his hands through the river of gold. It seemed to take ages until his fingers reached the end. He finally said, "Your hair. It's grown."

Strangely, Deidara let him touch it, but he also asked, "Why are you so obsessed with my hair?"

"I'm not," Tobi denied, a bit too quickly.

It was him entirely. Even if, right then, he were to pull out a kunai and slice off every last strand, Deidara would still be Deidara, and that made him the most perfect thing in the world.

"You are," Deidara crossed his arms.

Letting his hand fall to the side, Tobi stole his earlier words, wondering if his tone gave his thoughts away, "How would you know?"

Deidara said nothing for a long moment, eyes searching. Finally, he smirked. A small quirk of the lips.

It revealed nothing.

How nerve-racking.

Tobi said gravely, "I, too, have a question."

Appreciating that neither of them had backed away yet, he bent down low and close, so close, Deidara's curious eye was all he could see. The glow of his Sharingan was bright enough that he could see the speck of red reflecting off the crystal-clear blue. They dusted frost over his skin, melting him wherever they trailed. Breathtaking. Easily distracting.

Deidara's brows squished together in what he assumed to be confusion.

He waited until the man flat-out squirmed in unease.

"What – ," Deidara began.

Tobi cut him off, and tone light, he parroted him again, "Why are you so obsessed with my eye?"

Deidara bristled, "You know why! Hm. Itachi – !"

"– Is not here," he finished.

"...Right, hm," Deidara looked annoyed.

Sasuke was an annoyance, Tobi mused, following Deidara's thought pattern.

He'd wanted to bring up all the instances he'd caught him staring at his Sharingan if only to pester him a bit more, but a different thought drew his attention. He gently grabbed Deidara's shoulder, "My Sharingan is yours. Use me."

Deidara hesitated.

"I mean it," he insisted.

Eventually, Deidara sighed, "I know, hm."

It was neither a yes nor a no.

Tobi couldn't help himself; uncaring if he was being obvious, he let out, "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too, sometimes I guess, hm," he flushed, seeming to be embarrassed by admitting it.

It was so endearing.

Unable to take his eye off him, Tobi added, "I still miss you, senpai."

"But I'm here, Tobi," Deidara bit his lip, and Tobi's gaze dropped down to it.

His mouth was strawberry pink. Plump.

Shit.

Hastily, he let go of him, turning away. His insides had the nerve to flutter. Kami, he wasn't some baby with a crush. Why was he getting shy?

To cover up his sudden movements, Tobi went on as if nothing happened, "Since you've always been intrigued by my face, you can have a glimpse whenever you want to, senpai!"

"How generous," Deidara scoffed, "You're full of yourself, man, hm."

"You sound defensive," he observed.

"I'm not!"

"And all those schemes and your attempts to get me out of my mask?"

The hesitation gave him away when he eventually responded, "Non-existent, hm."

Tobi cleared his throat. He held out his palm, fingers stretched out. With each point, he pushed a finger down, "The lemonade. The countless attempts of tempting me with sweets. For instance, the dango shop. The baths. When I was pretending to sleep. The sake – ."

"Okay! Fine, hm. I get it, yeah," he grumbled, pouting.

...Cute.

And amusing.

Lowering his tone ever so slightly, he then added, ominously, "Even right now."

Deidara's brow rose. He crossed his arms, "That doesn't even make any sense, hm. Clearly, I'm not."

"Don't worry. It's understandable. You're not the first – but you've been the most insistent," Tobi told him. He was poking at Deidara, but he was only point out the truth. Deidara's curiosity had always been unparalleled, "I can see it in your face. It's plain as day. You're practically begging me to take it off."

"As if!" Deidara exclaimed, "You can do what you want, man. I don't care, hm."

He sniffled, "So, you find me hideous."

"That's not what I said," Deidara tried.

He shook his head, once, "Well, I am, senpai."

"What? No, you're gor – ," he abruptly cut himself off. Looking frustrated, Deidara then amended, "Your mask – it's – your mask is hideous."

It wasn't difficult to predict what Deidara had been about to say.

Gorgeous. Him?

He'd been expecting Deidara to agree—there was nothing attractive about his withering face.

Feeling too much, he remembered to breathe, but it shook.

This gave him hope. And hope was flawed. It did not exist to be kind.

He wanted to crush it, clench his fist around it, so it burst like a piece of fruit in his hands. But he couldn't bring himself to.

Because...

What if...?

Unwilling for Deidara to catch wind of his internal panic, Tobi didn't address his stutter. When he spoke, he was no longer aware nor in control, an uncomfortable clash of Obito, Tobi, and Tobi, "My mask is hideous? But it greatly resembles your work, Deidara. The difference only resides in the paint."

"Why you – !"

Tobi laughed, ready to dodge whatever bomb Deidara sent his way, but it never came. He paused, turning around in confusion to find the man staring at him, jaw slack.

Now, Tobi was on guard. He asked, "What is it?"

Deidara scowled, "...Nothing. Never mind, hm."

He stormed ahead, and Tobi watched him with a tilted head, thinking.

This is short and might be viewed as filler, but I needed to establish where they are before things progress any further. Thank you for your patience with me. My god, it's been over five years since chapter 1.