Title: "A Brief History; or The Enigma and the Clay Shaper"
Author: Yukari Rin
Word Count: 2,238
Notes: Written in the Oshima High livejournal RP universe. Thanks to Fuyumiko-sama for letting me borrow her Shisui for this. I fear I didn't capture him as well as I had hoped, but I don't think anyone can write him the way you do. Slight shounen-ai if you squint, possibly.
Disclaimer: Naruto and related properties belong to Masashi Kishimoto and related parties.
"A Brief History; or The Enigma and the Clay Shaper"
The first time they met was the first day of school their freshman year during third period Physical Education. Deidara was walking slowly onto the field, fingers moving out of habit, even without clay to shape. His long blond hair waved in the breeze, blocking his view. He peered around the uniformed students looking for the teacher, who he spotted heatedly talking to one of the female students.
His artists' eye immediately took in the girl's figure and face as she stood with a vaguely disinterested expression listening to the teacher. Her black hair lay gently on her shoulders and she had clear ivory skin. Her black eyes were full of light, but blank. She caught his eye and faintly smiled. It caught the teacher's attention and he turned to see Deidara holding a uniform in his hands. "Why aren't you dressed, miss?" the teacher asked gruffly.
"Because I'm not a girl," Deidara spoke slowly, trying to get his irritation across even through his thick accent.
"For crying out loud, another one?" the teacher cried out in exasperation. Deidara lifted a brow and glanced back to the student in the girls' uniform that the teacher had been speaking to. A pink paper was thrust into his hand, and the other student received one as well. "Go to the athletic office and get the right uniforms. And hurry! You're already late, Bakuhatsu."
Deidara bobbed his head and turned to go back to the building. He could see his classmate following at a leisurely pace, not a concern for the world showing on his face. "You get the wrong uniform, too, yeah?" he asked as slowly as before.
His classmate glanced at him with the same small smile. "Yes."
"So why are you wearing it?" the confusion clear in his voice and expression.
"Why not?" was the reply as the boy focused on the Kesannuma Bay.
They remained silent for the rest of the walk to the athletic office where the basketball coach was filling out forms. Deidara knew from an alumnus of the school that Coach Momochi was a force to be reckoned with, and he nervously tapped on the open door. Coach Momochi glowered at the two students. "May I help you ladies?" he asked rudely.
"We've been assigned the wrong uniforms for physical education and were sent to retrieve the proper ones," Deidara's classmate spoke smoothly and elegantly. The coach glanced at the students, especially the boy in the incorrect uniform, before rising to get the boys' uniform. Handing them to the students he told them a complaint would be filed to the main office.
Deidara peeked at his fellow effeminate male peer as they changed in the locker room. Yep, he was a boy. "Do you like the way I look?" Deidara was asked.
"You have a nice face," Deidara mumbled out, glad for his thick Iwa accent. "Yeah."
The other boy stopped folding the girls' shirt and looked at Deidara. "Thank you. Though it seems to be a touch too feminine for the secretary, don't you think?"
The Iwa native lifted his head, surprised that he had been understood. "... Yeah."
"Shisui Uchiha," the dark-haired student held out his hand.
"Deidara Bakuhatsu," the blond replied, shaking the hand held out to him.
Their friendship had begun.
It wasn't until the second semester that Deidara asked if Shisui would sit for him. Shisui gave him a bright smile and twirled a lock of his dark hair as he gladly granted the request. They agreed that two days later they would meet in the handicrafts studio after the last class had been let out for the day.
When it was time for the sitting Shisui entered the studio and scanned the large room before stepping away from the door. Deidara recalled the Uchiha explaining his lack of talent with the arts and his subsequent avoidance of the classrooms devoted to its studies. Seeing Shisui fully examine every object in the room brought Deidara's own memories of his first time entering his father's studio. It was like entering a new world with new scents and objects to discover. It was magical. He allowed Shisui to walk around and inspect the works in progress before directing him to a chair near the back of the room, facing the window. Shisui complied and Deidara set to work.
Neither of them spoke. Deidara quickly worked himself into a trance-like state, forgetting that his model was alive, and not just a larger version of what he was currently shaping out of the oil-based clay. There would be no need to worry about the clay drying before the blond was happy with its position. Shisui kept his gaze focused on the world outside, watching the birds fly and the trees wave. Several students were enjoying some free time on the lawn, happy to have another day of school over. Occasionally he would look out of the edge of his eyes and watch his friend work. He had never seen anyone so intent on their craft before.
Three hours later Deidara bobbed his head and smiled.
Shisui turned and gasped quietly. On the low table his friend had been working on sat an exact replica of himself, a few feet tall. He slowly crept over to the sculpture and crouched down to stare at the miniature version of his face. Deidara reached for a hand mirror on one of the tables and handed it to the dark-haired boy. Shisui glanced back and forth between the mirror and the sculpture several times before offering the first genuine smile the blond had seen from him.
They left for a shared supper where they spoke about their circle of friends and their summer plans before retreating to their separate apartments. What Deidara had kept from Shisui was that the sculpture was his final exam. The topic his teacher had assigned him had been to capture tranquility. The first thing that had popped into his mind had been Shisui, whom he swore was the essence of everything peaceful. He received the highest grade out of all the handicrafts specialists, and many art galleries on the main island sent him requests to show it. He turned them all down, wanting to give it to Shisui. But the night he tried to bring it to the Uchiha's apartment some of the seniors stopped him and destroyed the statue after beating up the "uppity foreigner" as they called him.
The next day he skipped school. Tayuya visited him that night with the offer to teach him how to fight and the news that Shisui repaid the seniors the kindness they had shown his blond friend.
It was during their sophomore year that Deidara first set fire to one of the orchards on school property. It really had been an accident, and he was never found out, but Shisui knew about it and asked if Deidara would ever set off fireworks again. A week later Deidara received a package from his mother containing a few left over shells from a show she had done, and he quickly took the box to Shisui's house. They called up their circle of friends, the same people as last year plus one freshman deemed worthy of their company, and met up on one of the trails on Mount Mihara to set the explosives off, shooting them over the town.
The whole time Shisui watched with wide eyes as the fuses burned down and sent the casings flying only to explode seconds later into bright bursts of color and noise. They used all of the fireworks in a matter of minutes and quickly headed to a camp ground so that they could wash off the smell of gunpowder. They walked back to the campus at a leisurely pace, discussing whether or not Shisui should host a party before or after the midterm exams. Deidara listened, but didn't join in the conversation until Shisui asked him if he could pull off an even larger fireworks demonstration for the party. The blond replied he could, but it would take time to get the supplies from his mother who was rather busy this time of year.
It was decided that the party would be after the exams, but that the fireworks would wait until the spring semester so that there was enough time to prepare the show.
Contrary to popular belief, the first fight Deidara was involved in was not with Sasori. It was with Shisui. The spring party had come, and with it – the fireworks. But as tended to happen every so often, something went wrong and one of the smaller rockets went off course and flew through one of the closed windows of the second floor to Shisui's house. Luckily the rocket turned out to be a dud and was quickly diffused by dumping water on it, but the damage had been done. Shisui wouldn't speak to Deidara for a month afterward.
The two made up over a private show on the beach. Deidara only used blue fireworks and ones that sounded like rain falling as they burned.
Junior year they only had one class together the entire year, and most of their group had been split a similar way. Deidara spent most of his time devoted to sculpting during the day and at night getting together with his friends and destroying school property. Not spending as much time with Shisui allowed Deidara to rediscover his friend's beauty. He once again found himself making small likenesses of the nicer of the two Uchiha in his acquaintance before quickly rolling the clay back into a ball and creating more abstract objects.
Shisui noticed the new style his friend had taken up and even commented on it once, and asked why the blond had changed his outlook. Deidara replied that his outlook hadn't changed so much as his muse made him question everything differently. Shisui and he then got into a discussion over art which Sasori joined in. The dark-haired friend ended up having to mediate the argument as both his artist friends fought over whether or not art should be purposely beautiful or accidentally so.
That year his final exam topic was "mystery". Once again Shisui was the first thing that came to mind, and once again he obliged his friend and sat for him. Deidara chose to do a life-sized bust. When he informed his teacher of the project he immediately regretted announcing it in class because when it came time for Shisui to visit the studio the room was full of girls eagerly waiting to photograph the shirtless model. Shisui didn't mind the attention at all, but seeing his friend's hackles raised he politely asked the girls to leave, promising that the bust would be so realistic that they wouldn't be able to tell which was the human and which was the clay.
With the room emptied and the squealing girls far away from the door, Deidara settled into the silence and set to work, constantly scanning every part of his friend's face and torso. He was using water-based clay this time. Now that he knew Shisui better, Deidara realized that the dark-haired boy was more like water than oil.
The torso was finished rather quickly, and once finished; Shisui stood to examine it and to stretch a bit before being confined to the chair again. Deidara had him sit closer so that he could capture Shisui's expression more clearly. Time passed slowly, and the hours wore on. A few times they each heard the sound of the stomachs growling, though they never expressed their hunger aloud.
The sun was beginning to set as Deidara lowered his hand once last time. He stared at the bust and then at his friend several times, dissatisfaction evident in his behavior. He was about to smush the face into something unrecognizable when his teacher entered and told him he had done a wonderful job. The teacher continued to compliment his talent as Shisui joined her, putting his shirt back on in the quickly chilling room. But Deidara stayed seated, eyes narrowed at the clay ones before him. He hadn't captured Shisui.
He closed his eyes and pictured Shisui in his mind, but even then he wasn't Shisui. Rarely had Deidara or anyone seen him angry, and with his smooth speech and pleasing manner no one could refuse him. He always received a lax punishment, if any, for his inappropriate actions. He was a master of deception and would always be the first to throw a party. He would always be the flirt, and he wouldn't always be as male as maybe he should be. He was devious and secretive. And only he knew exactly what he was.