Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto

Word Count: 1,226 (not including A/N's etc.)

Warnings: Contains self harming/self injury, blood and character death. Oh, and a little bit of language. I think it's OOC and AU I guess? If any of this offends you, or you don't like it, please hit the back button, or whatever...

Thank you FallenForTheDraco for helping me out (love you my beta! 3)

Red - a colour associated mostly with love. However, it could also represent hatred and anger. A primary colour. The colour of blood.

Deidara stared at the kunai in his hand. It teased him as he held it loosely in his right hand, his hand mouth licking at the cold hilt. His blue eye was dark and full of hate; so different to how happy it normally was.

He had had enough of it already. The whole of the Akatsuki messed with him, only talking to him if they needed help or wanted him to do their own dirty work. He was tired of it.

Tired of being used.

Anger boiled up inside of him. Why was he even here? To be used as some work puppy? It hurt him so much to think like that.

Suddenly he dropped the kunai in the sink in front of him. He placed his slightly tanned arms on the edge of the basin and looked up to stare at his own reflection.

His nornally smooth blond hair was now completely down in a dull thin mess. He had bags under his eyes for all the times he could not fall asleep - times when he had a chance to think about who truly cared about him. He would cry himself to sleep some nights whilst Sasori was in the room. But the puppeteer was as cold and heartless as ever, telling him to just "Shut up and go to sleep". At least he had done one of those things. His lips were chapped for he hardly ate or drank anything for the past few weeks. Once more, he looked at his reflection in the bathroom mirror.

He was wearing a black wife beater with a fishnet shirt underneath it and his usual blue training trousers. He was no longer as musular as he had used to be.

Deidara had to admit he looked like shit.

He was angry again. His mouth curled into a wicked scowl as he raised his right arm.

With a quick and fluid movement, he punched the centre of the mirror, not bothering to remove his hand as the glass pieces shattered around his arm, flying out and digging into his fist.

Deidara looked up to see his cracked reflection. There, now it looked like him. Shattered, cracked, free.

He chuckled humourlessly.

Was he going insane? Perhaps.

There was a knocking at the door.

"Brat? What happened in there? I heard glass shatter." Sasori questioned from the other side.

Deidat didn't want to burden him with his problems.

"It wasn't anything important, Danna un. Just my art." Sasori would never care if it had something to do with his art. With any luck, he would just leave.

"Don't lie to me brat. I can smell blood. Don't tell me you're harming yourself..."

Deidara was shocked! How had he known about what he was planning to do? Did he actually care? Was after all? Questions ran through his head; he was slowly coming out the darkness in hopes that the light would help him.

"I don't want to clean up any body. You cause me enough trouble when you're alive. I don't want more if you die." Sasori scoffed.

Dark thoughts clouded deidaras mind yet again.

He had actually hoped that someone - Sasori, would suddenly rush into the bathroom telling him that everything would be alright. Hold him and comfort him like a friend.

But the thought was fleeting.

Just like his art.

That was the final trigger. He glared at his own reflection in the cracked glass. Then, he preceded to pick up one of the shards. Perhaps it would be better to end it all now. What did he have to lose anyway? As a shinobi, he'd eventually be killed anyway.

He had no friends that would miss him,

No family, that cared for him,

No love.

Scowling, he placed the glass on his wrist, the cold mirror on his left arm. Suddenly, he hesitated! Was it really the right thing to do?

Deidara gritted his teeth together shook his head to get rid of the thought. He had wasted enough time. Taking a good grip on the shar, he applied pressure and dragged downwards.

Blood leaked out from the deep cut; crimson tears trickled slowly down his arm, as if crying for him.

He smiled.

The deep red liquid felt warm against his cold skin. he felt a number of sensations and emotions flood into him. Pain and regret however, were not one of them.

Happiness.

Comfort.

Relief.

It felt so good. He needed this so much.

Slash, slash, pause.

The shard of glass was not tainted in a deep red and splattered with droplets. Deidara dropped in and it shattered into tiny fragments. Picking up the kunai he had previously left abandoned in the sink. The cuts across his arm was still bleeding, but it wasn't enough...he needed more. Taking the kunai, this time in his left hand, he made identical cuts and just let the blood flow out. The bathroom's white floor now had small puddles of blood, drops slowly dripping down from his arms.

As a shinobi, and the fact he was partners with Sasori, Deidara knew quite a bit about human anatomy. He knew that on the wrists, there was an artery that was directly from the heart and, if you cut along, it could cause consequences.

He needed it.

The kunai was now as bloody as the piece of mirror had been, but still sharp, was back in his right hand. He held it to where he knew the artery was and dug it deep into his skin and brought it up along the length of his forearm.

His left arm was almost instantly drenched in blood, spilling down onto the floor. All of the negative feeling he had had flooded out with it: rage, hurt, rejection and more.

Deidara could feel the strength draining out of him. He gradually felt himself become weaker by the second when he eventually fell on the ground with a small thud, landing on a few stray pieces of the broken mirror. His bang was long enough to cover his face and also touch the crimson pool which was slowly beginning to form around his.

He began to feel tired, but like he was about to finally fall to a peacefull sleep. His thick, blonde hair was sprawled under him and acted like some sort of pillow. His senses began to waver. The objects around him were beginning to look blurred; his arms (or even body) felt completely light; he could no longer smell the metallic blood and he could only faintly hear someone at the door.

They were knocking, or so he thought. He even thought that it was Sasori, calling his name! He even sounded worried!

No. No one here would care what happened to me, especially not Danna. It's my imagination. He thought. He glanced at the burgandy door, but his vision began to form small black spots, which slowly began to cover the images.

The blackness was taking over now; he welcomed it. Before he shut his eyes completely, he had one observed the scene around him and had his final thought

Wasn't it ironic that his blood, was red - the colour of love.

Something he had died without.

A/N: Hm, so how was my first Angst fic?

Long A/N ahead :)

IMPORTANT FIRST POINT, PLEASE READ!

No, I do not really support self injury. I know people who have self harmed before, and it's hard to stop.

I wrote this for two reasons

1) Today is Self Injury Awareness Day (March 1st). Loads of people today are going 'Oh, it's Justin Bieber's birthday!' I don't hate him, I don't like him. I'm sort of mutual now. But I wanted to make sure at least a few people know that today is also SIAD. There are people in the world who cut. Not for attention, but because of things happening in their lives and emotional pain. It's a sad thought...but some people do indeed commit suicide. I just wanted you guys to know...

2) You don't have to read this one. I've been feeling quite upset and depressed lately. I wrote this a couple of weeks back, (the idea) and decided to develop it. I'm still not feeling like my old happy self, hence this fic. I've been feeling like how I portrayed Deidara at the beginning, so this was something to vent out and stuff.

To readers of my other fics: Shut Up!'s last chapter is almost finished. As explained in 2), I haven't been feeling great, but it's almost done, I promise you that. I have tests this week and next, so I don't know when I can work on it properly. Plus, I have a History essay.

I might have a Akatsuki First World War AU trenches story soon. I'm doing a history project, (essay and story). I'm going to write it out if fanfiction first probably, and then change the names and descriptions, then hand it in :) I doubt my History teacher knows what Naruto is anyway.

If you got this far, well done :)

Thanks for reading!

P.S It's almost 1am and I wake up at 6:30. I have a French test tomorrow...

X~midnight-lady123123~X

EDIT 22/3/11: Fixed a couple of spelling and grammar mistakes that I found. Decided that the Trenches Akatsuki story might not be written, unless I'm bothered...oh and in case you're wondering I got 77% in my French! I was pretty happy! :)