One and only disclaimer: Sasori and Deidara, as well as the rest of the Naruto cast, especially the Akatsuki...are not mine...if they were, Sasori and Deidara would be together...and you'd see Pein a hell of a lot more...and Sasori and Dei would not die...TT So sad...also...you'd see alot more of Gaara XD


Author's Note: Alright...I've been thinking of this fic for forever. Ever since I got into DeixSaso. Which was A LONG time ago...anyways...I have just now gotten around to it due to the on-going GaaraxOC fic I have been doing. Which should end relatively soon...Anyways...entertain yourself with the fic.

Also...I apologize in advance for any OoC that may occur...On that note...the story begins.


Art is Art No Matter How Corrupted

Chapter 1: Meeting


The young Iwa-nin had been running for days. It was not clear where he was, nor who was around. At the time, he did not care. All he cared was escaping his year long captor. The bastard had held the poor blond captive for over three years. The things he did to the artist were despicable and beyond forgiveness. The artist had grown scared and terrified. Before he was held captive and imprisoned to become a "toy," the boy had actually been very friendly and bubbly. Now, however, things were different. Being held captive for such a long time, people changed. Being tortured, raped, and even bound could do things to the psyche that could mentally damage someone for a very long time.

As the blond ran through the forest, trying to escape, he heard a slithering behind him. This only scared the boy further, breaking into a faster sprint. He nearly tripped due to his body wanting to move faster than his feet could carry him. He was, in no way, in his right mind. He was defiled. Corrupted. Changed. Tears streamed down the boy's face. He'll never forget the one time someone had actually stuck up for him. It was about five years ago. When he was thirteen, a young red headed boy had stepped in against his future captor. This went on for a while until the red head eventually stopped showing up. The blond figured he moved. Figured he gave up. In any case, it was not beneficial to the blond artist.

Lost in his current memories, the blond started to stumble more and lose his balance, eventually tripping and falling onto the ground. His face hit the ground roughly. His once heavenly blond hair now soiled with mud and many other earthly things. He tried to get up. He realized he couldn't. He had twisted his ankle. He beat the ground repeatedly in defeat, crying in frustration. How pathetic he must have looked to any bystanders. He had run miles from Oto (sound village). In fact, from the looks of his surroundings, he was close to Konoha. He had no specific destination, but something was drawing him toward Konoha. Probably because he heard of the ninja skills they had. The blond had been trained to be a ninja from Iwa. But that all ended, even though his training was complete anyways, when a certain snake had kidnapped him right from his home. He escaped once. He went back to Iwa for a few months. Only to be shunned and banned from the village for his emo mentality and hobby for blowing things up. This didn't affect him, however. He was now so desperate to get away from the slithering snake-nin that he didn't care about being banned from his village for his artwork. All he cared about was finding a new home. If he couldn't find one in Konoha, he would move to Suna. After all, the one that had saved him looked like a Suna ninja.

"Dei-chan," called a deep ominous voice. The boy's eyes widened. How had he caught up to him so quickly? Had he really been so lost in thought that he had forgotten to get up and run some more? Or was it that he lost track of time due to his heavy, highly rare, thinking. In any case, his captor was not approaching way too fast. The boy forced himself to his feet with a sharp pain darting up his leg and reaching his brain. His ankle was definitely twisted. Nonetheless, the boy pushed on, desperate to regain his life. He pushed on until something wrapped around his leg and dragged him to the ground. He screamed as he slid backward, much to his dismay. He screamed bloody murder and then was rendered unconscious by a sharp blow to his head. He had failed.


Hours later, the blond awoke to a pain in his head. His eyes fluttered open and he looked around. He brought his hand up to his head, holding his forehead as if he had a hangover. He groaned in pain and then he remembered past events before he fell asleep. His eyes widened with a gasp. He shot up to a sitting position and looked at his wrists. His eyes widened. He wasn't bound. His cerulean orbs searched the room. It wasn't the room where the snake-nin kept him for his torture or devious sex acts...so where was he? As he continued to search around, his eyes landed upon a figure in the corner. It was fairly dark so he could not see it well. His eyes just simply lingered on the shadowed figure. The only thing that was for certain was the red hair that stuck out. He looked harder, his eyes adjusting to the dark. The figure moved and started to walk toward him. The boy's breathing increased due to anticipation and fear. He started to inch away and fell off the bed, knocking his head on the wall. He groaned again, this time, with a whimper added. The figure shuffled over to his side and gently and gingerly touched his cheek. The skin upon skin was soft. The artist's vision snapped to his side and he started to back further away against the wall, coming to a corner. The figure spoke. His voice monotonous and devoid of emotion. "Don't be afraid. I'm not going to hurt you," it said simply.

The artist remained quiet. He didn't know what to make of this situation. The voice did not belong to the captor he had endured for years. The blond tilted his head sideways for the man to continue. It was no doubt night considering the scarce lighting. "W-who are you, un?" he asked. His voice held fear. He was used to it. He had spoken this way for years. It did not surprise him in the least that he was scared now.

The figure remained silent. The blond made out a smirk. The figure drew closer and reached past the blond to turn on a light. Light flooded a small portion of the room and the blond rubbed his eyes fiercely, trying to adapt to the intrusion. He whined a little until he could finally remove his hand from his eyes, used to the light now. He had become somewhat nocturnal due to the dim to no lighting in the place he was held for so long. He feared it messed with his eyes. As soon as the blond opened his eyes, he saw a red headed man kneeling in front of him. His eyes were a reddish brown, almost auburn. The artist stared on. His face was devoid of any emotion. He looked so young. He could be younger than the blond. But then again, looks never said anything about a person. His eyes were blank, as was his facial expressions. He wore a black cloak with red clouds printed on them. His hand rested on an uplifted knee as he stared at the blond. The artist's cerulean eyes met the brown ones once again. He waited for the man to explain. Seeing this, the man smirked. He got up and started to walk away. The blond was about to call out until the man started to speak. His voice level and somewhat soft. "Sasori," he said simply. He answered the blond's question at least. He turned back to the blond on the other side of the bed, still huddled in the corner, hugging his knees now. He looked pathetic. The red head walked back and saw the blond visibly shrink and flinch. No doubt he had been abused. The man known as Sasori extended a hand to the blond. He tried to smile, but all that came out was another smirk. The blond's vision drifted to the red head's hand and then back at his eyes. It looked as if he wouldn't hurt him. The blond reluctantly took his hand and the red head grasped it, pulling him up and into his chest accidentally. The blond stayed there and made no signs of moving. Sasori looked down at him and stepped away nonchalantly. He walked back on the other side of the room and to a desk, seating himself. He sat there, working on something that the blond couldn't really see.

The blond finally spoke in the smallest voice. "D-Deidara..." he said quietly, sitting back on the bed, playing with his hands in his lap, head drooped down depressingly. Sasori turned to him and nodded, facing him completely, dropping his tools to turn his full attention to the blond, knowing full well that there would be many questions he was expecting to have to answer, much to his disliking. The blond just sat there quietly, though.

Sasori was confused. Did he not have any questions for him? Did he not find it odd that he was in the middle of the forest, near naked, and now he was with a mysterious person that he didn't even know, now clothed, in the man's bed? This guy was either stupid, or too shocked to care at the moment. Sasori decided to strike up something that might push the blond to ask questions. Sasori sighed quietly and leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, inspecting the blond. "What were you doing in the forest half-naked?" he asked, devoid of all emotions.

Deidara flinched and tears started to stream from his face. "I..." he started, voice shaking worse than anything Sasori had ever heard. "I was...escaping..." he said quietly. Sasori didn't understand and waited for the blond to continue. He did after a minute or two. "I was imprisoned..." he said, averting his glance to the side, his blond hair covering the left side of his face, shielding the entirety of his face. Sasori just remained quiet. He hated to be made waiting, but he could see that Deidara was having some kind of issues. After all, it did seem traumatizing to him. Suddenly, Deidara looked at the man to see him gazing intently at him. "I...don't want to talk about it, un," he said sadly.

Sasori nodded. He returned to his work on the desk without another word. A knock came at his door and Deidara jumped. Sasori didn't let this go unnoticed. He looked at the blond and raised an eyebrow quizzically. Deidara was now shaking involuntarily and rather violently from what the red head could tell. Pushing it aside for the time being, he got up and answered the door. Deidara watched on and saw a man with blue tinted skin standing at the door, peering inside a little past Sasori. Sasori let him in freely, against his will from what the young artist could tell. The blue skinned man walked over to Deidara quietly, grinning madly. His teeth were pointed like those of a shark. Deidara even saw gills on his cheeks. Deidara started to shake even more violently. Sasori noticed this and spoke to the shark man, clad in the same attire as himself. "That's far enough, Kisame," he said with authority.

The shark, known as Kisame stopped and continued to inspect the blond from where he was. He looked at Sasori and saw impatience on his face like always. "Itachi told me to come get you two for a meeting. Leader wishes to speak with us," he grinned, his voice somewhat teasing and somewhat annoying to Deidara. He remained quiet though, until he heard the "you two" part.

"Wh-why me?" he asked quietly, fearful for his life yet again. Escape one weirdo, gain two more. Just perfect.

Kisame smirked. He looked at the broken blond. "He has an offer for you, blondie," he smirked. He looked to Sasori, who nodded in understanding, signaling for the shark man to leave. He did and Sasori's attention immediately shot back to the blond.

Deidara looked broken. He looked depressed. He looked unstable. Sasori approached the blond and stared down at his pathetic form for a minute before speaking. "Come. Leader doesn't like waiting, much like myself," he said in a matter-of-fact tone. Deidara nodded and hesitantly got off the bed. He looked down at his clothes to see that he was wearing a black tank with fish net over it and black pants, resembling Sasori's under the cloak, which Sasori quickly buttoned up. Sasori walked over to the door and looked back at Deidara, waiting for him to hurry up. Deidara did and met up with Sasori out of the door, following him skittishly. He looked around the place he was in and suddenly felt at home. They walked down a hallway, doors on either side. They walked out of the hallway and to the left was a kitchen. It was rather messy and Deidara resisted the undying urge to clean it. He had always been a sort of neat freak. Past the kitchen, directly in front of it, was a living room, complete with a sofa, two chairs, a table, and papers strewn about the table. Deidara's brow suddenly twitched as he took on the sight. 'How messy, un,' he thought to himself with annoyance. He noticed that Sasori had glanced back at him and stopped walking. Apparently, Deidara had stopped to investigate and take in the messy sight. As soon as Deidara realized that he had stopped and Sasori was waiting, somewhat impatiently, he resumed his place behind Sasori, following him out the door and next door to a bigger building.

They entered and Deidara immediately noticed the other six people there. They all sat in a certain order. He noticed someone in front of him, in his line of sight. He had orangish-brown hair with piercings everywhere. Nose studs, lips, ears...probably more that weren't visible. He looked intimidating with his fiery eyes. His chair had a symbol on the back: "zero." To the man's right, there was an empty chair with the symbol for "blue." To the right of that chair, there was a woman with blue hair pulled back in a neat bun with a paper flower. Deidara deemed her beautiful. The back of her chair read "white." She sat quietly, eyes closed, hands in her lap. To her right was a black haired man with red eyes. He had bags under his eyes. He didn't look too friendly either. The back of his chair read "scarlet." To his right sat a green venus-fly-trap-looking man. The right side of his face was black with a yellow eye. The left looked human enough, save the green skin, with a yellow eye as well. He looked impassive. The back of his chair read "boar." Deidara stopped partly at the weird names these chairs had. He continued on his investigation and looked at the others. To the plant man's right, there was another empty chair. The back of that chair read "sky." Deidara's eyes widened. He recognized that sign before. That was the snake-nin's ring he always wore! Deidara refrained from screaming and breaking down right there. He moved on quickly. To the right of that feared chair was the shark man from before, Kisame. The back of his chair "south." To his right sat a peculiar looking man with beady eyes wearing a mask. He looked rather odd. Deidara brushed it off. He was in no position to judge how people looked. He too must not look like a beauty queen right now. The back of the man's chair read "north." To his right was a silver haired man. He looked rather ill-tempered. Deidara made a mental note not to piss him off, just to be sure. On the back of his chair was "three." And finally, to the right of that man, sat Sasori. On the back of the red head's chair read "jewel." All of them donned the same black cloaks with red clouds.

Once he was done inspecting the chairs and people, he heard a voice calling him. It was deep. He followed the voice and saw that the "zero" man with orangish hair was speaking. He motioned Deidara over to a seat next to him. Deidara followed, head down and sat next to him. He felt so nervous for some reason. It was then that he noticed that everyone's eyes were on him. He shifted uncomfortably under their gazes. The man to his left cleared his throat. He started to speak. "What's your name, kid?" he asked, more like demanded.

Deidara sort of jumped. "Deidara, un," he answered, avoiding eye contact, keeping his head down and his hands nervously in his lap.

The man nodded, acknowledging his answer. "Well, Deidara. It has come to our attention that Orochimaru had come into contact with you. We hear that you have a unique kekkei genkai. Iwa, yes?" he asked again. Deidara nodded. The man nodded as well. "Your kekkei genkai would be useful to us."

"Useful to you, un?" he asked, looking up at the man, who was burning holes in his eyes with his impenetrable stare. Deidara stared, nonetheless.

The man nodded and smirked. "Ever heard of the Akatsuki?" he asked, looking at him, the others quiet and looking on.

Deidara's eyes grew wide for a moment. He then nodded and smiled brightly. "The Akatsuki is a well known, and feared, group of rogue ninja that are all listed in the Bingo book. All are said to be S-class criminals that severed all ties with their villages," he said as if reading it from a history book.

Everyone's eyes grew wide, including the man next to Deidara. Kisame was the one to speak. "Certainly did his homework, huh?" he laughed. Sasori was even slightly impressed. This did not go unnoticed by the man that had just spoke with Deidara. Kisame continued. "How you know so much about us, kid?" he asked with a grin.

Deidara sighed and pressed his fingers to his forehead. "How could I not hear about you guys, un?" he sighed with frustration. "My village refused to let me back in, claiming that I was a part of you guys, considering me a terrorist for my...art, un," he grinned.

The man to Deidara's left smirked. "I see. Well. Your services are requested," he said as an invitation into the group. Deidara sighed and shook his head. Everyone looked rather disappointed, except for the red-eyed, black-haired man. He just looked annoyed and offended. "Why not?" the man pressed further, getting harsher by the minute.

"Orochimaru is a part of your little 'organization.' I wish no part in any contact with that loathsome man, yeah," he said simply, shrugging his shoulders, his eyes hard and hateful.

The black-haired man stood and worked his way over to Deidara. Said blond looked up at him and earned a punch in the jaw, flying out of his chair. Deidara sat up and glared at the man, wiping his lip. "What was that for, un?!" he growled.

The man just stared evilly at him. "When Leader offers an invitation, it is not a deniable request. It is an order. You are joining the Akatsuki," he ordered. Everyone watched on and Sasori looked somewhat flustered. He gripped the sides of the chair, holding himself in place.

Deidara smirked and stood up, taking on a fighting stance. "I said, 'no,'" Deidara said defiantly.

Before the man that clocked him could intervene and punch him again, the "Leader" stood between them. "Enough, Itachi." The man now known as Itachi stood motionlessly, glaring at the blond. The Leader then turned to Deidara. "Here is how it will work. If you can defeat Itachi in a fight, you will not be obligated to join. However, if you lose, you are required to join us. Is that understood?" he said authoritatively.

Deidara sighed and stood straight, holding his head. "Fine..." he said, looking at the ground. There was no easy way to win with these guys. Deidara sighed again and looked back at the leader. "When?" he said with evident boredom.

The leader smirked. "Tomorrow afternoon. For now, rest. You look like a train wreck." With that, the Leader started to walk off. He stopped in the doorway to what looked like his "office" and looked over his shoulder at them all. "Meeting dismissed." With that, he went into a room. Everyone started to leave, save Deidara, Itachi, Kisame, and Sasori.

Deidara glared at Itachi while Sasori was ready to jump in and Kisame looked at Sasori, observing the ex-Suna's movements carefully. He smirked. Sasori had taken a liking to this boy. Kisame looked back at the other two and could literally see sparks flying between them as they stared, or rather...glared, at each other. If looks could kill...Kisame sighed and stepped in. He sighed again. "Come on, guys. Save it for tomorrow. Sasori, could ya take the brat to your room?" he asked the red head.

Sasori quietly nodded and walked up to the blond, grabbing his arm. Deidara visibly relaxed and went along with Sasori. Once in the room, Sasori closed and locked the door. He turned to Deidara. Deidara had his head low again. No doubt he would get scolded or even worse...beaten. Sasori sighed and Deidara looked up at him. He was waiting for a slap, a yell, anything. Nothing came. Just Sasori looking at him. "Wh-what, un?" Deidara asked quietly.

Sasori rolled his eyes. "Itachi has a point," he said simply. He went over to his work place and sat down again. Deidara took his place on the bed. With that, Sasori took to being quiet. Deidara became impatient. He was about to say something until Sasori continued. "Something is on your mind?" he stated.

Deidara's eyes widened a little. It was eerie how the man could read him without looking at him. "Er...should I know anything before fighting this Itachi guy, un?" he asked, looking out the window. Sasori snickered a little. Deidara's vision drifted back to Sasori. "What's so funny, un?" he asked defensively.

"Quiet, brat," Sasori said half heartedly. Deidara raised an eyebrow, but obeyed. "Do you honestly think I would betray a team mate on a whim?" he asked, looking at Deidara, amusement playing on his face. Deidara blushed and slumped a little. "Heh. Now you understand." Sasori turned back to the table and started to mess with vials. Deidara looked at Sasori again and averted his sight to the ground again. "Just know that he uses the Mangekyo Sharingan."

Deidara's eyes widened. "No way, un!" he said, falling on his back on the bed with his hand over his eyes. "I'm so screwed, yeah!" he whined. He heard Sasori sigh. Deidara sighed as well. He started to look around. A thought occurred to him. "You didn't happen to see my pouch, un?" he asked, looking around the room.

Sasori looked curiously at him for a minute. "Pouch?" he repeated. He thought for a moment. Sasori got up and went to his closet. He opened it and picked up a pouch, showing it to Deidara. He raised an eyebrow. "This it, brat?" he asked, throwing it to him.

Deidara smiled and nodded. "Yep. Thanks, un. I'm going to need it..." he sighed. He unzipped it and looked inside. 'Plenty...if I'm lucky,' he thought to himself, regrettably. It would have to be enough. He looked at his hands and saw that he still had the gloves on. He was partly thankful. He noticed Sasori get back to his desk. He started working again. Deidara couldn't help but wonder what he was doing. He brushed it off and laid down on the bed.

Sasori heard rustling and didn't bother to turn. 'Brat...' he thought to himself. "Get some sleep, brat. You're going to need to be at full power tomorrow," Sasori said.

Deidara brushed off the "brat" comment yet again. No sense in worrying about it considering he would be out of here soon enough. He'd beat Itachi shamelessly and waltz right out as if nothing ever happened. But then what? This thought saddened Deidara. Become part of the Akatsuki and become a wanted criminal, but escape Orochimaru. Or. Beat Itachi and not join Akatsuki, and risk being made into another "toy" by Orochimaru. Neither were favorable. In fact, it just made the young artist's head spin. He slumped into the covers and soon, sleep overcame him. Hopefully the red head wouldn't pull an Orochimaru while he was sleeping...


TBC