A/N: This was supposed to be a one-shot, but... uh. Yeah. It's now a really long two-shot? Mhmm, it's your soulmate AU. Thank you to the SpideyPool fandom for introducing me to the concept a few years back. I don't remember reading any TobiDei soulmate/soulmark AU's, hence why I've tossed one into the pile. Though, I haven't read much fanfiction recently, so maybe that's changed. Oh, and if things get heated next chapter, the explicit stuff will be posted on AO3, not here.

"We"

Deidara scratched at his wrist.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Kurotsuchi stepped up from behind him.

He'd been staring off into the distance, body there but mind gone. Her words made him focus on the curves and sharp lines of Iwagakure. The infrastructure stood tall and proud, and it had for decades.

"It's hideous."

She didn't react for a moment, thinking she'd misheard him, then a confused, "What?"

"You don't have an artistic bone in your body, hm. I wouldn't expect you to understand," Deidara didn't look at her when he stood up and left.

That night, he discovered what his soul had been craving since his birth, and used it to manifest true art.

Before he left, he looked back just once.

Iwagakure had never looked so divine.

The skin on his wrist was irritating him, and the itch had progressed to a searing pain. At first, he'd thought it was the dirt and clay that coated his arms, but it soon became apparent that it wasn't. Deidara picked off the crumbling grime from his wrist as he flew away, suddenly doubting himself. He was worried the Forbidden Technique wasn't compatible with his body. He reassured himself. The new mouths were hungry and wild, but they listened to him. They spoke to him – with him. They were the first to understand him so wholly. There was no way the kinjustu would fail him.

But then supressed memories resurfaced. He remembered the small words whispered by the orphans, words filled with hope and wonder by children who didn't know any better.

When he looked down again, a name was written on hist wrist, engraved in neat black strokes.

Uchiha Obito.

Hell.

The world was hell.

The rage and hurt, the grief, it all sank into him. It wouldn't stop sinking. Over and over again, the sun set and rose, and more innocents fell victim to circumstance, killed because humans could not control their greed.

Rin...

Obito's rage ran deeper than the wounds he inflicted on them. Vengeance tasted stale.

And Madara watched him. Gaze as dead as his own, Madara watched.

The burning in his left wrist became incessant. In the back of his mind, he knew what he'd find: a mark that came too late. Aching and numb, he glanced down.

And as if the gods mocked him, there forever written into his skin wasn't her name.

He'd been mistaken.

This whole time... It hadn't been her.

He had loved her, but it hadn't been her.

Deidara.

He wasn't even given a family name – likely an orphan – to find them and slaughter them. Deidara was fortunate to have no traceable identity, because Obito was desperate for death. If only the name had made an appearance on his other arm, an ink stain on a white sheet. He could have cut it off then, never to see it again.

He hated Deidara.

He hated this world.

"Hi, I'm Tobi!" he stuck out his hand, the one attached to his unmarked wrist, "Pleased to meet you!"

Their most recent addition to the Akatsuki, it was him – he was still a kid, Deidara was just a boy – with his lively blue eyes and furious golden hair.

Tobi despised him.

He's hated him for ten years.

At one point, he thought they'd never meet because so much time had passed. Tobi made sure to forget, but sometimes he'd accidently move his wrist in sight, or the mark would itch, and he'd remember. Memories of that night would surface with it, clinging onto the name like it was the air it breathed.

The name now had a face.

Deidara wasn't Rin, and he hated him for it.

The boy was surveying him, taking him in. Tobi had to triple check to ensure his posture was laidback. He threw in an awkward laugh to get the job done.

Apparently, Deidara didn't like what he saw because the offered hand was ignored.

"Deidara, hm," he continued, "I've seen you with that plant freak. Are you with the Akatsuki? You don't have a uniform, hm."

Tobi noted the speech pattern of the latest member, then brushed it off. He'd encountered stranger habits. Instead of mentioning it, he replied, "I'll be one you guys someday! Just you wait! I've always wanted to be a member. It's been my dream since forever!"

Deidara grimaced at his enthusiasm, "You want to join."

It was a statement, and not a question.

That was right, Tobi thought, recalling Zetsu's report. Deidara was the brat who attempted to outwit Itachi when he was admitted. They had to force this one into the organization.

"Hey... what's with that tone? The Akatsuki's great! Everyone's so cool! Especially you, Deidara-senpai!"

The blond thing was quick to snap, "Don't call me that, hm."

"Tobi?" a familiar voice called him. It was softly spoken, but rough, raspy. White Zetsu.

He turned around and acknowledged the spy, "Zetsu-san! I've been looking for you everywhere!"

"Sorry, Tobi."

"We're going."

"Wait! Wait for me!"

Frustratingly drawn to the boy who's haunted his mind, Tobi glanced back at Deidara for one final look. He wasn't surprised to see Deidara already walking away. In the very back of his mind, he wondered if Obito's name had appeared on that frail wrist yet.

Deidara ignored Sasori's silence as best as he could, but the quiet was far too loud.

It was dusk, so the mosquitos were out. He swatted one away, lost in thought.

"I'm going to go get a drink, hm."

His partner didn't respond, not that Deidara expected him too. A quiet, little sigh escaped him before he disappeared from sight. A stream was nearby, so that was where he went. Deidara appreciated the sight of the rushing water; it was constantly changing, never in the same state as it was before. And right then, the noise was something he was desperate for.

Reaching into one of the many hidden compartments of his cloak, Deidara grabbed his flask and twisted it open. He wasn't even thirsty. Deidara dipped the container into the stream, to preoccupy himself if anything.

The sleeve of the cloak was getting wet, so reluctantly, he rolled it up. Black characters on his skin were unveiled, each stroke a burden to carry.

He hated the Uchiha for trapping him in that genjutsu and threatening his art. Itachi duped him into the Akatsuki, and now he was captive to follow the cheap ideals of a delusional leader. And to put icing on the cake, Itachi had massacred the entire Uchiha clan, excluding his brother. You know what that meant?

It meant that the scrawl on his wrist meant nothing anymore. It was useless.

The dark strokes had gotten under his skin – he had started to feel hope. It was a whimsical notion, knowing there was someone out there who was perfect for you. Deidara had even begun to believe it. Maybe this Obito Uchiha wouldn't just appreciate true art, but feel it on a deeper level too. Deidara didn't suffer through any true loss, besides his crushed hopes, for their death. They had just been a faceless figure with a personality Deidara had created before he slept, but... He'd like to have met them, even once, before they were murdered by Itachi.

He remembered when he was young, desperately hunting for assignments, the excitement of being able to exhibit his honed art at the forefront of his mind. He'd asked around, "Do you know anything about the Uchiha clan?". The response he'd get was always the same, "You don't know? They're the strongest clan from the Hidden Leaf Village". That spiked his interest alright. He took it as a challenge. Could the Uchiha hold up against his art, if they were that legendary?

He researched the Uchiha for a brief period of time, but he was quick to recognize that the Sharingan seemed phony – bland. It held nothing against the sublimity of an explosion. During all those missions, he'd never crossed paths with any Uchiha, or at least none who carried the Sharingan. The ones he did stumble into were weak; they died in moments.

Then it was too late. He heard the whispers, felt the air of death from miles away. He never met Obito, never would. Deidara yearned for vengeance; no one took what was his. What little trust Deidara had in fate broke with his potential lover's death. Or that was the case, until his encounter with the son-of-a-bitch himself. Itachi was given to him on a silver platter. It was like the gods were apologizing to him.

Fuck them, anyways.

He breathed out through his nose, his head hurting. Deidara stood up, having already tucked away the flask.

But when he turned around, he had to take a step back, nearly walking right into the stream.

"You again?" he blinked hard, just in case he was seeing things. Hallucinating. Day-dreaming. It happened too often, now-a-days.

Deidara pretended that this man didn't sneak up on him and that his heart wasn't pounding. It had been a few months since their last meeting, and even then, he'd hardly been listening, so he struggled to remember the name.

But then it hit him.

Tobi.

"Is that Deidara-senpai?" Tobi asked, moving a branch to step through the foliage.

The snark came out before he could stop it, "No, it's me, Kisame, hm."

The strange man in the orange mask cocked his head, "Really? You look different."

"No!" Deidara couldn't believe this guy. Did he seriously just fall for that? He had the mind of a four-year-old!

Tobi backed up, hands up in surrender, "Yikes, you don't need to shout."

"And would you stop calling me that? I'm not your senpai, hm. Deidara is fine as it is," Deidara explained. He wasn't comfortable with honorifics attached to his name. Or at least, not when this guy did it.

Tobi shrugged, "Sure thing, senpai. Hey, have you seen Zetsu around? I always lose track of him. You know how sneaky spies are."

Deidara gaped. This... this bastard was toying with him!

"Hey... Tobi," he grit out.

"Aw man, look at that flower! It's blue. Like your eyes!" Tobi pointed, then put his hands on his hips, "And the sky. And water. Uh, but not when it's in a cup, because then it's clear. I meant like the ocean. Oh wait, did you say something?"

"Run."

Like Madara had watched Tobi, Tobi watched him – the boy. From a distance and undetected, he observed the bane of his existence like a curious cat that didn't know any better. Tobi cursed himself every night he disappeared from Zetsu's side to watch the boy in his sleep. He was careful not to alert Sasori, who never slept. In spite of all his precaution, he was still dangerously preoccupied by the child. Distracted.

And he saw the name of someone familiar on that tanned wrist. The characters were nostalgic, strokes he hadn't seen together in decades.

Obito Uchiha.

So then it was true. He was destined to fall in love with this baby? Maybe Obito's fate was to care for this brat, but Tobi's only purpose was to bring an end to hell. That was it. Besides, Obito was gone. He died with Rin.

Tobi blinked slowly, awakening from his thoughts. His surrounds came back into view, and he registered where he was.

Deidara.

Distaste filled him at the sight of never-ending, sunny hair. It wasn't short, nor was it the dark silk he loved. He wasn't her.

Why...

Why did he do this to himself?

Why did Tobi come back so often, torturing himself like this? Was this punishment, for failing her, for failing himself, decades ago?

They said the names were gifts from the gods given to those at a time they'd need it most. A name was a reminder that hope and love existed. What lies... The gods were truly horrible. They doused the thorns with sweet smelling honey to tempt you into grabbing what would ultimately destroy you.

Sasori was gone, having left to meet with one of his chain of spies. Deidara was alone, asleep and somewhat hidden under the dying leaves of autumn and night sky. His hair was still too bright, and the moonlight gave away his position. In these part of the woods, Deidara wasn't safe.

Tobi leapt down from the tree he'd been concealed in, landing without a sound nearby the boy's head.

He hesitated for a brief moment, contemplating. His mind screamed at him, but he still found himself crouching down next to his most recent hire. Up close like this, with the boy asleep, Tobi could not tell the difference between an innocent civilian and the professional, far too experienced bomber he was. Fast asleep, no one could tell this child saw beauty in the screams of his victims.

Art. If he was anyone else, he would have scoffed. Art was meaningless.

Tobi gently ran his fingers through the ends of the thin strands, cautious not to touch his scalp. Swallowing, he moved the hair closer to Deidara's body, before covering it and the revealed face with more leaves.

For a few moments, Tobi hovered over him, silent.

Deidara was now nothing but a pile of dried shrubbery and twigs, camouflaged by the dense coverage of the forest.

Tobi felt the nausea before he felt the regret.

He should not have done that.

He activated Kamui and vanished into thin air.

Deidara was walking ahead of him, following Sasori like another addition to his collection of puppets. The ex Suna-nin was a good distance away from them. Tobi ran to catch up, calling out and waving, "Senpai! Senpai!"

"You again?" the voice, which had been irritating to hear the first time, was much more melodic than he last remembered.

Tobi fluttered his fingers in a cute wave once he was in-step with the bomber, "Hi, senpai!"

"Are you the Akatsuki's mascot or something?" Deidara frowned, "You're always following us around, hm. What's the deal?"

"Oh, no, the organization can't afford a mascot," Tobi explained, moving the conversation somewhere else. He didn't want to linger on questions about himself, "Kakuzu hoards all the money. Maybe I should volunteer! What a good idea, Deidara-senpai!"

"And how do you know that?"

The boy sure knew how to circle a conversation. He'd be a good interrogator. Perhaps the next time Tobi had to resort to torture, he'd have this brat have a go at it first. Without missing another beat, he replied, "His last partner told me! That really tall one, remember him? He's gone now, the poor thing."

"He's dead already?" Deidara smirked, "He didn't last long, hm."

"I miss him," Tobi said, acting sullen, "We'd always sit down over a cup of tea – well, he'd be drinking, you know, the 's' word. It rhymes with ake. Yeah anyways, he'd tell me about all his problems. It was wonderful! I'd listen to every last one. I have a good ear, if you ever need to talk, by the way. Oh, with him, it was always Kakuzu this and Kakuzu that. I don't think he was that fond of Kakuzu. Well, Kakuzu killed him just yesterday, so – ."

"You're super conversational, hm," the artist commented, cutting off his rambling. Good thing too, Tobi was quickly growing tired of prattling on and on.

He replied, "You must think everyone talks a lot, since you're partnered with Sasori. The only quieter member is Itachi!"

Deidara tensed up, but Tobi knew exactly what he was doing, and that was the reaction he wanted. The boy needed a reminder. He'd heard about Deidara's fixation with his work – art, explosives, endings. Pein was quick to inform him that Itachi wasn't on the boy's list of favourites, apparently having something to do with their first meeting. Tobi didn't buy it. He knew what name was written on Deidara's wrist and what was left of it.

Tobi continued, "Itachi doesn't need to speak. His eyes do all the talking for him! The Sharingan is just so beautiful! Ne, don't you think so too, senpai?"

Deidara had stopped walking a while ago, but Tobi pretended he just noticed then.

"Hey, what's wrong? Are you okay?" Tobi asked, walking towards him.

"I wouldn't expect someone as ignorant as you to understand that the Sharingan is an overrated tool. True art is an explosion. There is nothing more beautiful that the rush of a single moment," Deidara began, heat in his voice.

A bit startled by the emotion in his voice, Tobi swiftly tuned him out.

Was the brat seriously that offended over something so trivial?

Interestingly enough, he didn't comment on Itachi at all. But Tobi had seen him flinch at the Uchiha's name just a moment ago. It seemed it was too deep of a conversation to be having with this childish 'stranger'. That's what Tobi was to Deidara. A stranger. It was an odd thought, considering he'd known of the boy for nearly half his life.

Though, Tobi didn't deny his spike of curiosity. How attached was Deidara to the name on his wrist?

"Senpai!"

Deidara jolted from his thoughts at the horrible screech. He didn't think he'd ever get used to it. Tobi always seemed to find him moments after Sasori gives up with him and leaves to do his own business. Deidara refused to believe in coincidences.

"What is that?" Tobi sounded horrified.

"A spider," he said, pretty sure that was what Tobi was referring to. Deidara peered at the tiny creature handing in the web. It was black, and a thin, orange stripe ran down its back. A redback? He noticed Tobi trying to pick it up, "Wait! It's poisonous, hm. Don't disturb it."

"Sorry!"

His brow rose, "Have you never seen a spider before?"

"Uh... yeah, I have? I think so. But they're usually smaller."

"Hey," Deidara reached into his pouches, then opened his palms for Tobi to see, "Look, hm."

"Is that...?"

"Yeah, hm. Spiders are cool."

Tobi tossed the ring in the air.

Sasori was dead.

They'd need a new member, and he knew it was time for him to join. They'd be expecting him to. It was unfortunate that the first to die had been Sasori. He had been reliable and powerful. The timing was lamentable.

Now he was to be partnered with Deidara.

The ring dropped into the crevice.

As he scrambled to snatch back the ring, shamelessly using Kamui to fit his arm through the tiny cracks, he thought about his situation. He'd be spending hours in a day, everyday, with the boy. The little thing had grown over the years, though not by much, mind you. Tobi still towered over his short stature. Ever determined to outdo Itachi, Deidara's skills had increased tremendously as well, but his weakness was still his... infatuation with art. It made him hotheaded, quick to be offended, and reckless. But his eyes were sharp, in every meaning of the word. He was excellent at observing his surrounding, no doubt due to the meticulous sight of any artist. He could formulate strategies in battle. There was a youthful creativity in him that was lacking in his other pawns. Deidara was a great addition to the Akatsuki.

But...

The mark on his wrist still burned him from the inside out. Like dying embers, they would reignite at the thought of him.

There was so much hate running through his veins.

He breathed out, attempting to relax. Tobi had to be objective about this. Deidara was insignificant. He didn't matter. Nothing real mattered, not as long as the plan was successful.

-•-

Deidara couldn't believe he was stuck with this idiot until one of them either died or abandoned the Akatsuki – which meant death. If only Pein didn't have a comprehensive file on Deidara's fighting capabilities and loyal S-ranked nin at his disposal. Still, he could "accidentally" kill his partner. Kakuzu did it all the time, and he was hardly reprimanded.

Now there was a positive way to look at things! He'd just compare himself to the Zombie Combo. Hidan would have to be a pain to deal with, and Kakuzu couldn't do shit about it. At least if Tobi really pissed him off, Deidara's threats would work.

Hidan was a fool. He brushed Kakuzu off because he thought he was untouchable. Deidara didn't believe that in the slightest. Hidan and Kakuzu's skills were fraud; immortality was bullshit. All life ended... eventually.

Sasori refused to believe it, up until the evidence was in front of him, greeting him with welcoming arms.

Deidara smirked, leisurely stretching the fingers of his left hand.

His other arm was currently in Kakuzu's deft fingers, as he tried to fit it with a few elbows he gathered. One was too big, the other just incompatible. It looked like Kakuzu approved of the one he was holding, judging by his agitated mutter, "Finally."

"Hold on. Is that what I think it is?" Hidan cackled like a madman.

Deidara stiffened, suddenly remembering that Kakuzu was holding the marked hand.

Hidan leaned into Kakuzu, trying to get a better glance at the name, "...Obi..to Uchiha?"

Kakuzu shoved his partner out of his space, then said to Deidara, "Turn to the side."

Deidara complied, pulling his hair out of the way and over his other shoulder. He offered Kakuzu his stub. Hidan could go fuck himself and mind his own business.

"That probably sucks dick, haha! Didn't Itachi kill his entire clan?" Hidan laughed again, "It's all crap is what it is. Soulmates? Ahaha! A sin for the unworthy! An act against Jashin – "

"Shut up, Hidan," Kakuzu snapped. There was something torrid in his eyes, and it left Deidara wondering. ...Did Kakuzu...?

"Why don't you make me, bitch?"

Nah. Deidara was overthinking things. Hidan wouldn't ever look past his religion and killing, while Kakuzu was a stiff, old miser with nothing better to do. Still though, Deidara's guts were kicking, whispering to him that Kakuzu was marked.

At the sudden prick of Kakuzu's threads, he brought his attention back to the present. Processing Hidan's earlier words, Deidara frowned, feeling unnecessarily defensive over someone he'd never meet. He looked between the pair, sensing this was a regular conversation between the two. Deidara sided with Kakuzu on this one; Hidan really was irritating.

Tobi, who had been abnormally silent for a long while, spoke up, "I think it's a wonderful thing to have. It's so romantic!"

Still not liking the topic of conversation, Deidara wished everyone would just shut up. He said flatly, "No one asked for your opinion, hm."

"Romance? What good does that do?" Hidan interjected, looking genuinely confused.

Deidara felt bad for him. There was nothing good about a mind that was void of fascination.

"Oh, well it gives you hugs and kisses and cuddling..."

Deidara have never seen Hidan look so disgusted before. The preacher said bluntly, "Why don't you just fuck someone instead?"

Deidara and Tobi briefly turned to glance at each other as the two started arguing again. "They sorta remind me of us."

He said to Tobi without hesitating, "I don't see it, hm."

"I'll disembowel the waste in your empty skull and fuck it right now if you don't shut that useless mouth of yours, Hidan."

Tobi winced, covering his ears.

Damn Kakashi Hatake and that freakish sand for landing him here and putting him through this.

"Keep your puny wrinkled dick away from me, you sick geezer," Hidan spit out, "And how come you're only threatening me? These two are talking just as much as I am!"

Kakuzu didn't reply with words, instead he finally looked up from Deidara's arm and stared at Hidan. There shared a long, still gaze.

"...Tch," Hidan finally broke the silence. He stood up and left, giving his partner the finger before the shōji slid shut, muttering loud enough for everyone to hear, "Bitch."

It was quiet as Kakuzu finished up the stitches. It didn't take much longer. Threading flesh was the easy part, seeing as it was his specialty. Realigning limbs was evidently a bit harder – they'd been at it for nearly a half hour. But you'd think with Hidan as a partner, Kakuzu would have more practice. Though the words were on the tip of his tongue, Deidara wouldn't mock him; the man was taught and ready to snap. Plus, Deidara was grateful to have his working mouths back.

Kakuzu snapped off the end of his knot, rising to his feet.

Deidara flexed his fingers, touched the palm of his hand, and stuck a finger into the mouth. The teeth sunk into his flesh, testing the foreign material that entered the cavern. He nodded, "It works as good as it used to, hm. Thanks."

"Of course it does," Kakuzu towered over the seated pair, then held out his hand, "My money."

"What?! You're making me pay?!"

"I won't ask twice," Kakuzu's inhuman eyes bore into him. That cheap skank. Hidan was right. Kakuzu was a dick.

Searching for some coins, Deidara shoved a hand into his pocket, muttering under his breath, "You didn't even ask once, hm."

A hand was placed on his shoulder, and Deidara looked up in time to see Tobi reach out with a thick wad of cash, handing it to Kakuzu, "Thanks for saving senpai's life."

Deidara stared dumbly as the old man counted the bills and rubbed at them, ensuring they were genuine. The crinkle in his brow lessened by half an inch before he left, so Deidara could assume he was satisfied. How much did Tobi even give him? And where the hell did Tobi get it from? He had no job since before he was admitted to the Akatsuki, from what Deidara knew. And better yet, why did he do that?! Deidara wouldn't have ever payed for someone else's debts.

Oh no...

Tobi just handed over their mission-funding to Kakuzu, didn't he?

Goddammit!

"You do realize you just threw the last of this month's money we had in the trash, right?" Deidara said, voice flat and expression devoid of emotion.

"Eh? You don't sound pleased. I thought you'd be happy!"

"You moron!"

"That's not very nice. Besides," Tobi looked at him over his shoulder, a single finger to his mask in an innocent posture, "That wasn't our money."

"Then... Who's was it?"

"It was his own! I pickpocketed him when he wasn't looking."

How Tobi managed to do that, he didn't have time to wonder, too caught up in the moment. Deidara burst into laughter, "Ahaha! No way! Ahaha, I can't believe I'm saying this, hm, but nice one Tobi. He's going to lose it when he finds out! Ahaa... Speaking of which, we better get out of here."

Tobi's pranks weren't all that bad, when they weren't directed towards him, Deidara thought.

Then he added, "And you weren't saving my life, hm. It doesn't need saving, yeah."

"Sure thing, senpai."

"Don't brush me off, hm."

"I'd never!" Tobi brought a hand to his chest, then dropped it to his side, "Weren't we in a rush to get out of here?"

"Right," he scrambled to shrug on his cloak, "Go, go, go!"

Deidara didn't see him grab at his wrist as soon as they disappeared from the safe house.

"Tobi, come closer for a second," Deidara beckoned him.

The orange mask tilted, "But why?"

Deidara didn't explain, because if he did, Tobi would suddenly find something very distracting and run off. He repeated, "Come, hm."

"Did he find out about the time I...? Or when I – ?" Tobi gasped, muttering under his breath, loud enough for him to hear, "This is it. I'm going to die. It was a nice life."

"You do this every time, hm," Deidara stepped closer to him.

Tobi stepped back, "It's not hard to tell me what you plan on doing!"

"If I tell you, you'll run away!"

"So it is bad! You're going to do horrible things!"

"No! No, it's nothing bad, I just want to take a closer look at your mask, hm," Deidara saw him tense up, "Hold on! I'm not going to take it off. I just want a closer look, hm."

"But why?" Tobi repeated, touching the orange on his face.

Deidara leaned in, pushing Tobi's hand aside to feel the ridges himself. The mouths on his hands tried to bite at the molding, but the material would not crack. His fingers followed one of the swirls, trailing to the eye opening. The orange paint was well-made and higher grade, and as Deidara focused on the colour, he noted that the orange wasn't flat at all. Shading and highlights were brushed on by whoever made it. Tiny cracks littered the mask, some filled with crusted blood and specs of dirt. The mask was old. Deidara tried to sneak a peak into the black depth of the eyehole, but all he could see was darkness.

"What's it made out of? It doesn't feel like clay, hm."

"Zetsu made it for Tobi," he shrugged.

Deidara didn't really want to know how Zetsu made anything. He sighed, backing away, "Thanks, hm. Your mask is really stupid looking."

It was actually interesting – creative enough to catch the eye – god, the colour was horrid though – but Deidara wouldn't let him know that.

They sat down on an outdoor bench of some joint. A length of time passed in an awkward silence, before Deidara cut it like a knife, "Can I wear your mask?"

"Of course!" Tobi said, "...Not! Why would you even ask that?"

Deidara cringed at his defensive tone, then relaxed, playing it off cool once he noticed his own poor reaction, "Figured I'd give it a shot, hm."

An idea struck him. It went against every rule in the book, but...

Tobi watched him mold some clay, seeing it take form, "Don't tell me – !"

"Tadaa!" Deidara grinned, holding out a near-perfect replica of Tobi's mask, down to the very last crack. He was a master sculptor, and anything less than flawless was unacceptable.

Tobi seemed a bit bothered by the mask, "Isn't forgery a sham?"

"It is, hm," Deidara said, distracted. He patted his cloak, searching for the wired strings he rarely used. What was the point in making a mask if you couldn't wear it?

Tobi began, "But aren't you do – ."

"Shut up for a minute, would you?" Deidara cut him off.

He finished stringing up the clay and tied it around his head. It was hard to see with the mask on. He prided himself with his sight and was dependent on his peripherals. Now, besides the compact gap of light and colour, most of his vision consisted of darkness. That wasn't where the discomfort ended. It was impractical to wear with his forehead protector on underneath, and his scope got in the way too. And even after the few seconds he put it on, he was quickly starting to notice how little air passed through the mask.

"How do you even breathe with this on, Tobi?" Deidara asked. His voice sounded muffled.

Tobi brought a finger to his chin, "You look dashing."

"You're only saying that because I look like you now, hm," Deidara lifted up the mask half way to suck in a deep breath of oxygen.

"We should try and swap places! The others won't be able to spot the difference!" Tobi exclaimed, jumping up to his feet.

If someone just met Tobi, they'd think he was joking. It was too bad Deidara's known him for a few years too many. Meaning, Tobi wasn't joking. Because he's come to grasp Tobi's personality to this awfully familiar degree, Deidara also understood that explaining to him why it wouldn't work would be a waste of time.

That was why he went along with it, "Let's find Kisame and Itachi, hm."

" – Good thinking, senpai! If Itachi can't tell, then no one can! Shouldn't we up our game though? Maybe you should cut your hair, so it's short like mine."

Tobi had hesitated, the movement so slight that if Deidara was anyone else, he might not have noticed. He wondered why. It had something to do with either Kisame or Itachi, or maybe both.

"But wait. Don't you hate Itachi with all your guts?"

He did. With every last fibre of his being. It was why he had to check up on him. Word was that the Uchiha was ill, thanks to the physical and mental pressure of his constantly activated Sharingan. Deidara didn't want to kill him if he was weak and already half-dead. That wasn't the point. He had to prove to Itachi that there were worthier ways to fight.

Deidara smirked, then pulled off the mask, "Kisame's alright at least, hm."

Tobi pressed his two fingers together, looking nervous, "Won't you, er, attack Itachi though?"

"Are you suggesting I don't have self-control?" he asked, eye narrowed.

"N-no! Of course not. It's just, getting into a fight would be bad, you know? Itachi's really powerful – eep!"

Deidara tossed and caught the clay bomb in his hand again, teasing and threatening. He didn't have to use words anymore. Tobi knew when to shut up.

"I changed my mind, ahaa, let's not go visit them. They're probably very busy or very far away."

"No, I need to see him, hm," Deidara reminded. The idea was caught in his mind. He wouldn't be able to stop thinking about it until he checked up on the man he'd kill one day.

"K-Kisame-senpai?"

"No, Itachi!"

Blood was still crusted under his finger nails, and the metallic smell was overwhelming, despite the numerous times he'd dipped his arms in frigid water and scrubbed until his skin was raw. He avoided getting his hands dirty, literally and figuratively, but once in a while, he couldn't trust others to get a certain type of job done with the amount of precision it required.

Tobi patted down his forearms with the edge of his cloak, then dried between his fingers. Some kills needed to be completed by his own hands; that's how delicate the missions were. He hated them. This was the bloodshed he was trying to end. Blatantly ignoring the name on his wrist, Tobi rolled down his sleeves and slipped on his gloves. A bit more red, a little more violence, and soon hatred would be a concept of the past.

Tobi let out a shaky breath, rising to his feet.

He could see his reflection in the still water, but not as well as he'd like. The night's coverage did little to hide the dark spots on the light of his mask. There was still blood caked on the orange headpiece. He used his sleeve to wipe it off. It hadn't had enough time to dry, so it cleaned with ease.

The Akatsuki uniform always reeked of rotting flesh and earth, so he didn't bother worrying over it. Grabbing a replacement from the other dimension was easy enough. He had to be careful to ensure Deidara couldn't tell he's had a fresh kill.

-•-

When the two appeared from behind the dense foliage, Tobi causing a ruckus as he fought against the branches in his way, they were greeted by Kisame's wide grin and Itachi's impassive eyes.

Tobi whispered loudly, "Are you sure you want to do this? It's not too late to back out."

Deidara elbowed him.

"Oof!"

Kisame swung Samehada over his shoulder, "Tobi. Deidara. What a pleasant surprise."

"Kisame, my man," Deidara then side-eyed the crow, "Uchiha."

His Sharingan was active, his face expressionless, but the barrier did nothing to hide the exhaustion his body painted. Deidara could see the white of his eyes were bloodshot, dry. His skin was paler than he remembered, lacking in lustre, resembling the grey of a shuriken. Itachi was thin.

He really was dying.

The notion festered. This was what he deserved, to fade away slowly, painfully. It was such a hideous way to die, the worst possible kind – second only to aging. Deidara wondered if letting him succumb to his illness was a truer vengeance. Itachi didn't earn the right to converge with art.

"Wow, senpai!" Tobi brushed the dirt off his shoulders, then pointed, "You somehow manage to look even smaller standing next to Kisame!"

Deidara had to blink a few times before he fully processed what Tobi said. By the time he did, Kisame was already roaring in laughter.

"Fuck off, Tobi!"

Itachi went straight to business, "Why are you here?"

"Senpai wanted to check up on Itachi!" Tobi said, excited, "To determine his strength!"

Kisame turned to Deidara, looking amused, "Is that so?"

Deidara wasn't foolish enough to try lying to Kisame. Not that it was a secret anyways.

"That's right, hm," he grinned, then scrutinized the pale man. He was done for now. He said to Tobi, "I have what I need, hm. Let's go."

As they disappeared, he heard Kisame say to Itachi, "If looks could kill, you'd be long dead, Itachi-san."

Tobi distracted him, "That's it?"

"Yeah."

"You didn't even threaten him!"

"Yeah, I changed my mind, hm," Deidara said, leaving it at that.

He was still going to prove the Uchiha wrong and defeat the Sharingan, but...

Itachi's death would be stagnant. There was not a more tragic way to end.

Deidara lay his head down against the futon. It was raining outside the inn, pouring. A storm was coming. Between their futons stood an oil lamp, and it was the only source of light in the modest room. He was sure that if the building ran on electricity, the power would cut within the hour. It was hard not to miss the buzz of charge in the air and under his limbs, especially as an earth-style user. Deidara did his best not to focus on the coming storm, instead studying his partner.

The tall, dark-haired man was slipping off his cloak. Deidara watched him fold the fabric into a neat square, as he did every night they stayed inside. He was mysterious, more so than the member's who rarely spoke. With a mouth like that, you'd think Tobi wouldn't be able to hide anything at all. Deidara was sure he had more knowledge on Konan than he did Tobi.

The corners of his lip twitched. Okay, that was an exaggeration, and he knew it. Konan was a blank sheet of paper.

But as often as Tobi rambled, he never did talk about himself. His past. Deidara didn't think too hard on it. Tobi wasn't the first person he'd met who kept quiet about certain things.

– Like an itch he couldn't scratch, what did piss him off was that mask –

When Tobi wasn't biting his ear off, like right then, when he was quiet and thoughtful, Deidara could consider him with a clearer head. Their bickering was fun, a good change to the dull routine that his life with Sasori had become. Tobi was predictably unpredictable. There was a line between entertaining and annoying, and Tobi was jumping back and forth between the two as he pleased. Deidara didn't mind it. Well, in the moment he did, but... he was grateful. He needed the distraction.

"Tobi," he mumbled, inspecting the black markings on his wrist, "Thanks, hm."

The orange masked head lifted up almost curiously. Tobi peered at him, then said softly, "Ne, did you ever get to meet them?"

Deidara didn't know what Tobi was talking about, until his sight centered on the name. He didn't want to talk about it, but maybe he'd bottled it in for too long, because too many words spilled out, "No, hm. The name showed up the night I left my village. It was right after I perfected my kekkei genkai. I was too far-gone at the time to care, hm. And then I found out all the Uchiha were massacred. That was when I decided they mattered. You don't realize what you've had until it's gone, hm. Funny thing is, for a time I was positive the sole survivor, Itachi's little brother, had to be Obito."

Tobi was silent, then, "Heh, gross. Wouldn't that have made Itachi your brother-in-law?"

Deidara's lips twitched, "Only if we married."

"I feel sorry for whoever ends up tied down to you."

They'd been doing so well too.

He didn't take the words to heart, though they felt oddly sincere, even coming from Tobi's mouth. His guts were clenching at Tobi's tone, his instincts screaming. Deidara was really starting to regret letting a bit of himself out in the open. It felt like he shouldn't have said anything. There was a reason why shinobi didn't talk about their past.

Shoving the warning bells away from the front of his mind, he sighed, "Tobi..."

"Sorry, sorry," Tobi said, not sounding sorry at all.

Deidara watched him get comfortable under his blanket, "Do you have a name?"

Tobi did an awful job at pretending he didn't hear him, "Hey, senpai, is that why you hate Itachi so much? Because he killed your soulmate?"

"It's part of the reason, hm. I hate Itachi and his Sharingan for mocking my art. You know that," Deidara dimmed the lamp, "Let's get some sleep, hm."

"Good night, Deidara-senpai," Tobi mumbled. He was snoring in seconds.

Deidara rolled over, whispering as the first flash of lightning brightened the room, "Night, idiot."

-•-

Deidara considered him to be the chatty one, yet every member knew the artist had a mouth that rivaled Hidan's. It was ironic, Tobi thought, listening to another one of Deidara's many lengthy speeches of art liberty, expression, and philosophy. If he sat down with a pen and paper, he was sure he'd be able to publish a novel with the amount of artistry knowledge he's suddenly gained since his initial meeting with Deidara.

Tobi was annoyed to find he was beginning to earnestly listen to Deidara's rambles.

"Do you even realize how pathetic a world without creativity would be? Everything would be the same. There would be no room for progression. No advancement, hm."

He did have a point. Not even the basic of kunai could have been designed on logic alone. Tobi nodded along enthusiastically, "Wow, I never thought of that, senpai!"

"Are you passionate about anything, Tobi?" Deidara suddenly asked, tone grave.

Tobi regarded the man with golden hair and a blue, blue eye. For as cool as the hue was, the emotion behind it was as hot as a burning star. Tobi grimaced, noticing that not only was he getting distracted, but he was also able to distinguish and label colours as an artist would. Kami, the brat was rubbing off on him. He turned away.

What to tell him, what not to...

"Well, I love nature and food, especially sweets, and impressing senpai, and peace, and happiness, and – "

"That's not what – ," Deidara spoke up, ready to correct him. Then, seeming to change his mind, his gaze softened. The pink lips stretched into a gentle smile, and he nodded, "Yeah, hm. What else?"

Taken aback by the sudden change in Deidara's temperament, and he cursed himself for this, but Tobi stuttered for real, "A-and, and love and an end to violence aaaand, uh, good things."

There was a still moment of silence before Deidara raised his hands in disbelief, "Why are you in the Akatsuki?!"

Tobi shrugged, "I go with the flow?"

"You begged to join, hm," Deidara retaliated.

"It turned out for the better. I met the coolest, nicest people here. Including you, obviously."

He and Deidara held 'eye contact' for a few heartbeats, before Tobi started noticing a hint of a red flush on the man's tanned skin. What's this? Did Deidara get shy when he was complimented? How quaint. Tobi tested the idea.

He continued, "And I feel safe around you, senpai. I know you can protect me."

" – You should learn how to protect yourself, hm," Deidara's face noticeably heated further, and there was a panicked, sharp edge to his voice.

That easy?

Endearing.

Attention over his artwork got an entirely different reaction than this. He tried it out, "Why would I do that? Your bombs can do all the work for me."

"My clay bombs aren't work, hm! Explosions are an expression of beauty: the prime, singular moment!"

His wrist felt like it was on fire, but Tobi was well aware it was his own mind projecting onto it. The mark hadn't burned since it's first appearance. Deidara's own hands were hidden by the sleeves of his cloak, and for that he was grateful. He didn't think he could bare to see the ghost of himself written on that skin.

For what had to be the thousandth time just that day, Tobi studied him.

The man was kissed by the sun. Every part of him reflected it. Under the curtain of a cloak, Deidara was small for his age, but he was well-built – sturdy – from copious, strenuous missions. The bright of his eyes and the gentleness to his step were meant to lead others astray, until someone took a closer look. His stare was wild, his footwork experienced. There was something dangerous about his semblance. The Akatsuki's cloud was the only warning sign Deidara gave away.

He was... he was beautiful.

Objectively speaking.

Tobi grit his teeth.

Deidara sat down cross-legged in the cheap inn they booked. His sandals and cloak were in the entranceway, each item replaced with a cup of water and an empty bowl that lay next to him. Deidara squirt some toothpaste onto the brush, being generous with the amount. The inn didn't have a private washroom or a sink, so he was stuck here doing this. The mouths of his hands were always clean, since food never rot their teeth, and they were highly sensitive to even the smallest of clay particles, but sometimes it was nice to pamper them. They deserved the extra attention.

He dipped the brush in the cup of water and began brushing the teeth of his left hand, just as Tobi walked in, the shōji screen closing shut behind him with a snap.

"I brought tea! And sweets," Tobi sing-songed, then stopped once he saw Deidara, "Oh, this again?"

The taller man set down the tray and slipped off his sandals. He grabbed it again and walked over, "The owner was super nice! Look, there's some for both of us. She even gave us all kinds of yokan and daifuku! Do you want dibs on the strawberry one or the... I think she said it was cinnamon?"

Deidara looked at the food, then at Tobi and all of his excitement over something as mundane as desserts. He was so enamoured with the world, to a point where it had to be pathetic, and Deidara's heart burst with emotion at it. Deidara couldn't bring himself to discourage Tobi. The man's giddiness was infectious.

He smiled, "You choose what you want first, hm."

Deidara finished up brushing and flossing his teeth, before joining Tobi.

The masked man had already wolfed down his half of the sweets while Deidara wasn't looking. Disappointing. Deidara eyed the hot cup tea resting innocently in front of Tobi. At least there was that opportunity.

He took a bite of a honey flavoured yokan. It wasn't bad, he thought, with brows raised. Deidara took another small bite, then started, "So, Tobi."

Tobi's voice was velvet, patient, "Yes, senpai?"

"Let's have a heart-to-heart, hm. To put aside our differences, yeah?"

"Of course! But I'm afraid I don't know what you mean. I hadn't realized we didn't get along."

Deidara grabbed his cup and blew against the amber liquid, feeling serene, "Let's start there then. You annoy me – not always, but just about always. Do I ever get on your nerves?"

Tobi was quiet, thinking. Deidara watched his gloved finger trace the rim of his cup, back and forth, and back and forth. Tobi was quiet for a long while, until at last he said, "Nope."

"Seriously?" After a dramatic pause like that, Deidara was expecting all of Tobi's wrath to just burst out.

"Yup."

Deidara sipped at his tea, "Not even when I blow you up?"

"Try to blow me up," Tobi amended, "And no, not really."

"Not even when I warn you to shut up? Hm."

Tobi shrugged, "Everyone tells Tobi to shut up."

Okay, that was actually quite sad. Deidara didn't feel bad per se, but... yeah. He cleared his throat, "Do you even feel negative emotions?"

"Of course! I've been angry before!"

"Like when?"

"Like when I, you know, umm."

Deidara rose both his brows, waiting.

Tobi brought a fist down to his palm, "Now I remember! When a baby bird fell from the tree and none of the other birds helped her. I was so mad!"

Deidara tried not to spit out his drink. He choked it down, then guffawed in laughter. Was this guy for real? Deidara grabbed at his torso, unable to breathe.

"Holy shit!" he cried, struggling for air, "You're an angel, hm!"

Tobi brought a hand to his chest, blatantly ignoring Deidara's rambunctious, unrestrained hysterics, "Aw, senpai! That's so nice of you to say. But since we're having a heart-to-heart, I think you're the real angel. You're glowing right now!"

It took a few more moments before Deidara calmed down enough to communicate. He took a sip of his tea, "I'm willing to bet it's all a show, hm. No one's a sweet, perfect, little flower like you. I know your game, Tobi. It's just a matter of time, hm. You'll slip up eventually."

Tobi brought his hands together, settling them over his lap, "You think I'm evil?"

Deidara smirked, "I think you're hiding something from us, that's all, hm."

"I think you're looking too deep into things, senpai," Tobi said.

They sat across from each other, enjoying the silence for a few minutes, before Tobi interrupted it, "If I have nothing against you, but you dislike me, wouldn't that make you the root of the problem?"

Deidara placed down his cup, "Me? Maybe there's a reason why I find you irritating? Hm."

"Someone wise once told me to never change who I am for someone else."

"Change who you are for yourself," Deidara looked off into the distance, which wasn't that far, seeing as the inn's tight walls were only a few meters away, "Otherwise you'll never see a difference, hm."

The quiet returned, and Deidara glanced back at Tobi. Something was off. He scanned the dark figure in front of him, but then his gaze settled on the other cup between them.

It was empty.

Dammit!

Tobi was sleeping in the futon next to him, his head no where near his pillow. His eyes roamed over the figure. Tobi molded with the darkness, his body almost strategically placed right outside of the moonlight's reach. Deidara closed his eyes, willing himself to sleep.

He was comfortable with Tobi. Too comfortable.

To the point where he was even looking at Obito's name on his wrist and wondering what would have happened if Tobi's name was there instead.

Deidara's chest felt heavy. It felt like he was betraying someone he'd never even met before.

.

.

.

The birds chirped and tweeted from the other side of the inn walls. Deidara blinked slowly, getting accustomed to the morning sunlight. Kami, he felt like shit. He was positive he'd only fallen asleep a few minutes ago.

He rolled over, throwing the blanket over his head.

Only for it to be yanked down, followed by a voice he was starting to hate, "Nuh, uh, sleepyhead. Rise and shine! Come on, it's time to wake up!"

Deidara curled in on himself, already back in that horrible half-asleep, half-awake state.

"Senpai," Tobi tutted.

A pair of large, gloved hands gripped onto his shoulders – they were cold, fuck – and shook him. Deidara opened an eye and glared at this – this monster. A morning person.

He grabbed Tobi by the fabric of his shirt and yanked down. Tobi toppled onto him with a quiet, "Umpf!", and welcoming the body heat, Deidara fell back asleep.

.

.

.

They woke to the sound of knocking on the door. Deidara was the first to register that someone wanted to see them, but he was far too comfortable where he was. He peered into a coal, black eye and held eye-contact for what had to be eternity. And just like that, his thought processes broke, his mind shut down, and he froze completely. Tobi patted his cheek and stood up, untangling their legs and walking away to answer the door. As Deidara picked up on bits and pieces of Tobi's cheerful conversation with the innkeeper, he struggled to remember the basics of breathing.

Did they just – ?

Was that Tobi's – ?

Deidara dropped his arm over his eyes.

"Well, shit."

He heard the shoji screen shut closed and the loud footsteps of Tobi approaching, before, "Senpai! It's time to go!"

"I'm up, I'm up. Stop shouting, hm," Deidara sat up, resisting the urge to pinch himself.

"Your hair's a mess."

Deidara ignored him, "What time is it?"

"Two thirty," Tobi explained, "Didn't we have to a meeting for our next assignment at noon?"

He groaned, remembering, "Yeah, yeah, we did, hm."

Before leaving, they gave the innkeeper a few extra coins for holding her end of the bargain and not outing them.

Deidara was still floored that he and Tobi held eye contact.