DISCLAIM IT: I'll never, ever, ever, ever OWN. MK owns. Bastard.

A/N: Sorry it took so long, but I had to do crap to get into college. Err, and this MIGHT be the last update for awhile, you know? 'Cos I have to get ready for school and yadeyadayada. whatever. it's in two weeks and I'm scared. -Flails-

WARNINGS: Semi-angst, humour, AU/AR, language, and MM. Haters beware of the garbage heap full of flames, lol. Minor TobiDei, but ultimately SasoDei.

SECOND A/N: I know this is in Tobi's POV, but there's a reason for this. It's still SasoDei, so yeah. Uhm. Enjoy, luverpies. :D

Possession

Tobi had a good life. Nice relatives, roof above his head, food to eat and a place to call home. He had cousins that didn't laugh at him for his mismatched eyes and a charitable aunt that took him in when his parents had kicked the bucket.

Life was good.

He liked the chores he was assigned to do, even if his cousins had never been given any. After all, he had to pay them back for their generosity somehow, though he never really needed to. He just liked how he had to cook for them and prepare their meals: it made him feel needed, and not at all like the charity case he really was.

But what he didn't like was the men that sauntered into his home, laying greasy fingers over the expensive vases he had just polished. He didn't like how those men would eye his cousins as if they were meat on display, though they certainly acted like it (but he kept that to himself).

And not only that, but Tobi honestly didn't like how sometimes, in the middle of the night, Itachi, his eldest cousin, would stumble back home, bleeding all over the white marble floor.

It took him ages to clean the blood off!

Sometimes though, Tobi was glad for Itachi's company at night. The intimidating teen with red eyes and enough body piercings to scare grandmothers was always genial to him, even if all he did was stutter in return.

And tonight, was doubtlessly one of those nights.

"Did you have a good time with your friends?" Tobi managed to ask, and the silent teen shrugged, as if to say:

"It could've been better."

"Ahh..I see…" Tobi tittered around Itachi for a moment, trying to help clean the teen up.

Multiple lacerations lined Itachi's toned arms and cuts zigzagged around his back. Tobi guessed they'd leave thin scars when they healed.

Taking note of the rest of his cousin's injuries, angry red cigarette burns taunted Tobi's vision as he bent down and rubbed ointment into the blisters. The clumsy boy massaged povidone-iodine onto Itachi's firm chest, tongue sticking out and dark brows furrowed as he did so.

The cuts weren't too deep to be disfiguring or unattractive, meaning that they would possibly heal in three weeks. There wasn't as much damage as he originally suspected, so Tobi nodded to himself and covered Itachi with gauze, then proceeded to pat a Snoopy Band-Aid on the scratch across his cousin's upper lip.

Tonight was certainly one of Itachi's better nights, Tobi thought, not moving his gaze away from his cousin's.

Before he could even ask, Itachi's hot breath whooshed through his lips, making Tobi crane his head to stare at the impassive teen.

"I don't take shit from anyone," Itachi said, as if trying to convince himself of that fact.

Tobi could only give his cousin an arched brow. "Then why do you keep going back?" he questioned, carefully putting the medical kit under the kitchen sink. He then stood up, one red eye and hazel inspecting his work.

Spotting one loose bandage, he pulled it taut, then stood back, finally satisfied with everything.

"Well?" he addressed Itachi expectedly, after a minute of silence.

A frown flit across Itachi's naturally blank features; his normally bright red eyes a dimmed mahogany; "They're almost finished," Itachi explained, as he stretched his arms above his head, muscles rippling in the dim light. "I only have tomorrow to worry about."

"Tomorrow-?"

Tobi was rather curious about Itachi's underground life, and who could fault him? Itachi was so full of mystery and intrigue that his prodigy status shadowed in comparison.

The frown on the teen's face deepened. "It's—well—it's complicated," Itachi admitted, frustration seeping into his tone. "I can't tell you anything, so don't try to pry."

With that admission said, Tobi didn't question him any further.

When the next day began, and Sasuke was readying himself for school, Tobi found Itachi smiling at him from the corner of the dining room. It was admittedly an eerie sight, but not unwelcome. No one ever smiled at him. Thus, mildly surprised but very chipper, Tobi beamed back at his cousin, moving to do his chores.

Though today seemed to start off with an odd beat, Tobi treated the change with a skip to his step.

Usually, Itachi would only ever ignore him, step all over his feet (or whatever part of his body was on the floor), then proceed to laugh about his miserable existence to those weird friends of his. Sasuke would simply chirp a 'Morning Itoko!' on days when he wasn't late, however most of the time he shot Tobi a grin before speeding off into the Uchiha District.

Today seems different, Tobi thought, mindlessly sweeping the floor.

He suddenly put a hand over his eyes and squinted up at the sunlight filtering through the filmy curtains.

I like the sound of that, his mind confessed.

A smile quirked the corner of his mouth as he continued his task.

The doorbell chimed.

Repeatedly.

Tobi took it upon himself to descend from the third floor and to the large iron gates. He happily noted that the Aureas he planted were growing their beautiful, but-not-quite-ready forms, their bodies idly draped across the front lawn.

He couldn't wait to see them in full bloom.

Humming a quiet tune, Tobi skipped towards the entrance, all thoughts on planting his favourite shrub: the Hypericum Calycinum. Should he do the planting today?—or tomorrow? Tobi was rather indecisive when matters like these arose.

A rude and very deep voice broke through his pleasant thoughts:

"Hey, yeah! Are you going to open this stupid piece of shit or not? I've been waiting for nearly an hour, yeah!"

This caused Tobi to blink, then tilt his head sideways. He was glad that he wore his mask today, or else his Aunt would've scolded him again.

"No one can see who you are, Tobi, or you'll get hurt," was the first thing she told him, as she handed him the ugly orange mask. "It's for your own good, Tobi. Someday, you'll understand why."

He took her word without complaint.

"Earth to freak, yeah! Are you going to open up or what?" called the voice insistently, and Tobi laughed a little sheepishly.

"Sorry," he apologized, and keyed in the code. Seconds later, the gate rumbled, revealing a haggard-looking blonde haired girl. She swiftly jogged in, narrowly avoiding the audible snapsnapsnap of the gate closing behind her.

The cute teen wiped the sweat off her forehead with a dramatic flair, saying "Phew, now that was close, yeah!"

Hm, Tobi thought, eyebrows furrowing. Since when did girls have flat chests and deep voices? Tobi was totally sure that girls did not have any of the former—unless he was really missing something.

"Are you a girl?" Tobi asked, immediately regretting it as pretty fingers twisted around his throat. His breath rattled in his throat as the girl choked him, deep blue eyes glaring holes into his mask:

"I. AM. A. MAN. YEAH!" she—he (Tobi corrected himself)—punctuated every word with a firm shake. "Did you think I was a girl, huh?" the blond hissed, "Girls don't have flat chests! And they definitely don't have voices as deep as mine!"

"Unless—unless they're deformed," he managed through a delightful mouthful of air, throat convulsing as the air refused to go down the right way. Abruptly finding his back on the ground, Tobi felt shapely legs squeezing his thighs in some heavenly form of restriction. If he told the blond to keep at it, would the stranger take it the wrong way?

Apparently so.

"Die, you idiot pervert, yeah!" shrilled the blond, shaking Tobi for all he was worth.

Maybe he shouldn't have said anything.

The grip on his throat tightened painfully, and Tobi was sure that he'd bruise by the next day.

If he lived.

Just when he was starting to feel light-headed, Tobi saw the graceful silhouette of his cousin stalking towards them, scowling.

Oh thank God, he thought, black spots swimming in his vision as the stranger was forcefully pried off him. This allowed Tobi to greedily guzzle in air, chest heaving with the effort of maintaining some semblance of normality.

Ohhhhh maaaan, Tobi internally groaned. He sat up, only to see the world as a kaleidoscope of spinning colours. The dizzy spell lasted no more than a few seconds, but in that time, Tobi was sprawled on the ground, ducks waltzing in his peripheral view.

This was it! Tobi wheezed pathetically. He would never take oxygen for granted. Ever. Again.

And that was a promise!

"Deidara, don't kill my cousin," was what Tobi heard Itachi tell the blond, disdain easily recognizable in his elegant voice. "He's the maid."

Rolling upwards to stare at the two figures, Tobi watched as Itachi easily lifted the small blond's collar, forcing him up so they were eye to eye.

"Don't do that again, you hear me?" Itachi growled lowly.

Deidara snorted and crossed his arms. Tobi could only label his expression as extremely sulky.

"You know I wouldn't have done it yeah, if he didn't ask if I was a girl," spat the blond.

"But all the same," Itachi said, lips curling, "Don't overdo it. He's an idiot, so you have to forgive him."

This was then, that Tobi chose to speak up on his behalf,

"Er. If you haven't noticed, I'm still here-?"

This remark earned him a roundhouse kick to the face, courtesy of an irritated Deidara. The cute blond was still rather miffed about being called a girl, even if he technically did look like one. A very pretty but manlyish girl.

The last words that drifted into his ears, as peaceful oblivion punched him (or it might've been Deidara, who knew?) was a snarky reply and an exasperated sigh:

"You didn't say I couldn't kick him," Deidara was saying smugly, his voice lilting into an enchanting accent.

There was a deep sigh and a murmur of: "What is Sasori going to do with you?"

And that was how he met Deidara.

The first time that Tobi was introduced to Sasori—he was floored.

Instead of being some pleasant-seeming grey-haired man that Tobi had envisioned, Sasori had turned out to be an extremely wealthy toymaker. He wasn't grey, nor was he any older than thirty, so that meant that Sasori was young and very suave. He had constantly windswept red hair that was borderline auburn, with a few chestnut streaks highlighting the pretty mass. He had honey brown eyes that had specks of green and grey in them, and Tobi was very, very jealous of them.

Although Sasori was short in comparison to Itachi and Tobi, he was slightly taller than Deidara and had a cool personality that dominated all others. Even Itachi had to sometimes pause in his sentences and let Sasori speak.

He just demanded that kind of respect.

Which again, made Tobi envious (and a tad bit resentful).

To put it bluntly, Tobi found himself fearing Sasori. Not only because the redhead was daunting, but mostly because he was everything Tobi wasn't:

Richlaidbackcharmingcoolsuave.

The definition of everything not Tobi.

When Deidara had brought an obviously reluctantly Sasori inside the main compound, Tobi had thought he was going to blow a fuse. Maybe even a major artery.

Why? Because Sasori was glaring.

When? Deidara pulled his Armani-clad body into a painfully traditional-looking community.

Where? To where Tobi was currently washing clothes. Without his mask on.

What? No, seriously, WHAT--?!

Panicky and unprepared for their visit, Tobi did the first thing he could think of: wet his hair. Even if the water was somewhat soapy and smelled of Snuggle detergent, Tobi had to do it. He just couldn't bear to think of Deidara thinking he was some sort of freak.

Which he was.

The water matted his hair down, causing his erratically spiky locks to fall into his face, thus thankfully covering it. For the time being.

Good thing he had skipped his monthly trim.

"Hey, Tobi, yeah! Meet Sasori-danna!" The cheery blond shouted, shoving Sasori to the front of him and grinning widely. He gestured to the both of them, saying, "Sasori-danna, Tobi. Tobi, Sasori-danna!"

Sasori looked vaguely annoyed.

But he still held out a contemptuous hand and said, "Pleasure to meet you. Deidara's told me so much about you." Sarcasm laced every word and it stung Tobi.

Can I punch your handsome face in and feed you to the carnivores?

Tobi forced a smile, "Nice to meet you too, Sasori-san." He stood up from his little stool and bypassed the curious duo, walking over to the tables and reaching for his mask.

He put it on.

"Why do you wear a mask, yeah?" Deidara asked, once again dragging Sasori to Tobi.

Tobi shrugged, "Because I have to."

Sasori's brow quirked but he refrained from saying anything, while Deidara whinged and wondered aloud.

"Come inside, take off your shoes and sit at the table," he said, shoulders tense as he showed them the way inside the Uchiha household.

Tobi didn't know why he was acting—so not him. Like. Mean. Tobi was never mean.

But that was weird, because he could swear he was being mean to Sasori.

He couldn't help the mutinous scowl that plastered his face as he stalked to the kitchens. It was his duty as a host to grab some snacks for his uninvited (and very not welcomed) guests. Mechanically snatching some steamed rice cakes, ice-cream mochi, and tea, Tobi placed them on a serving dish.

"Here," he said, conjuring a pleasant countenance and voice. He plopped the platter onto the low table, all the while glaring heatedly at Sasori.

"Thanks, yeah!" Deidara beamed and dug in.

Sasori didn't even bother to say anything and just chose to sip at the tea.

Tobi's fists clenched.

And that was how he first met Sasori.

As the months passed by, Tobi learned to conceal his tangible hatred for the quiet redheaded man. All he had to do was keep his lips pressed tightly behind his mask and fists clenched inside his sleeves.

When he was feeling particularly incensed by the man's presence, he'd excuse himself and go to a secluded glade of the Uchiha residence, a small, straw doll in his hand. It was a voodoo doll for Sasori, and he always felt better after stabbing it a few times.

Violent?

You have noooo idea.

He stabbed it in its crotch area one last time, before letting it be pinned to the tree and wiping the sweat away from his eyes.

Today, he chose to not wear his mask.

It wasn't for anything like vanity—Jashin forbid he had any of that—it was just really humid on this day.

Tobi stalked back to the Uchiha compound, his feet crunching loudly onto dead leaves and twigs. He made sure to mask his presence from his oncoming Aunt and Uncle, then sidle his way inside the crack of the backdoor.

"Tobi."

Startled, Tobi yelped and whirled around, heart beating rapidly in his chest.

It was Sasori.

His deep grey eyes bore into Tobi's mismatched ones, and a maroon eyebrow quirked.

"I see. That's why you choose to cover your face," the redhead mused aloud, a slender hand moving up to caress Tobi's cheek in a bad parody of a loving touch.

Tobi's eyes narrowed.

"Why are you here, Sasori-san?" he asked coldly. "Shouldn't you be back at the parlour room, with Deidara?"

Sasori shrugged an elegant shoulder.

"He's currently playing Monopoly with Sasuke. He told me to go somewhere because I was distracting him."

In more ways than one, Tobi's mind spat, and he outwardly snorted.

"And you thought I'd appreciate it if you bothered me instead?" he sneered.

"Look," Sasori said firmly, steel in his rough voice, "I know you don't like me, but for the sake of Deidara, please don't act that way in front of him."

Tobi plastered an innocuous look, "What way?"

Sighing, the older man shook his head, "That way. He already suspects something, but you know how he is—he's easily distracted and forgets easily."

"And your point?" Tobi refused to change his expression. "It's not like it's my fault—"

"It is," Sasori hissed, "I didn't ask for Deidara to fall in love with me, or me with him. I don't know what your problem with that is, but please don't do anything to me or him. I'm begging you."

Mismatched eyes wide, Tobi felt them water slightly. "I—I…I'm sorry," he whispered, head downcast and dark hair obscuring his view. "I hadn't—I'm sorry."

He hadn't realized that Deidara reciprocated Sasori's feelings and the other way around.

Right now, at this moment, all he wanted to do was curl up in his futon and wish the world away.

It took some time for Sasori to leave, but when he did, his footsteps were clangingclangingclanging in Tobi's ears.

Numbly, and robotic-like, Tobi Madara stepped out of the house and back to where he had pinned that doll.

And that's the day that he comprehended that he'd never have a chance in Hell.

It was a nice, clear day, a year or two later that Tobi's heart finally mended. It was a long process, and it hadn't helped that Deidara still visited every other day, lugging an obviously adverse Sasori behind him.

He and Sasori remained civil, but Tobi knew his place. He knew better than to bare his hostility out with fangs.

Hedidn'tstandachance.

Not against someone who was so Sasori.

Sweeping in the front yard cleared Tobi's mind, and for some reason, like that day so many months ago, he hadn't placed his mask on. He let his spiky hair grow out, the long locks cascading down his shoulders in a manner akin to a porcupine. He was only twenty-one, and his body had at long last matured.

His gold-tinted skin glowed in the sun while his mismatched eyes shined with life. Out in the open, with no mask concealing anyone's view; Tobi lulled most of the passer-bys with his odd sense of serenity and quiet beauty.

As people passed by and cast him appreciative glances, Tobi never noticed.

Because the one person that he wanted to pay attention to him wasn't—

Wasn't his.

A/N: Haha. You see why I said you'd understand why it was in Tobi's POV? Talk about unrequited love. I'm so evil and mean to Tobi, mwhahaha. xD