Chapter one – Investigations
It was Tuesday.
Deidara had seen this much blood many times before in crime photographs, but this was the first time he had been in the presence of this much real, human blood. His face was twisted in a disgusted frown at the amount of blood spilled over the curb. It was his first real job, so he couldn't be blamed for such a reaction. The other investigators were snapping photographs and taking samples, but Deidara couldn't find himself going near the yellow tape that had stretched over the red sea.
He would never expect something so dramatic as this to be his first job – a pedestrian would make more sense; only people that co-workers, friends and families were close to, but something like this – something this heinous and someone so well-known: The Third Kazekage.
Deidara was fresh out of college and already engaged to one of the women he had met in his Physics class. His chief, Kakashi, was a nice man and treated Deidara fairly, as he did the rest of his subordinates; and his job was well-paying and brought bread to the table.
Crime had always fascinated him ever since his father was murdered during the second world war about eight years back – he was fourteen then. Deidara loved to look into the minds of criminals, which was why he was so eager to be a detective. It fascinated him to discover the motives of people; find out why they did what they did, but there was no logical explanation for why someone would kill the Third Kazekage. He was the greatest Kazekage the country of Suna ever had.
His thoughts were interrupted by a slap on his back. He nearly stumbled, but managed to find his footing in the last minute before his face came in contact with the pavement. Deidara was greeted by a pair of stern brown eyes and a welcoming smile.
"You all right there, kid?" his co-worker asked, noticing the vacant expression on his partner's thin face. Deidara nodded and straightened his back, flicking his blonde hair so it fell properly over his face again.
"It's brutal, isn't it?" Shikamaru finished with a sigh, "and we still haven't located the body." He broke his words with an annoyed groan. "…Suna's not going to be happy that their Kazekage has been assassinated on our soil. I hope we don't have a third world war on our hands."
Deidara nodded in agreement. Suna and Konoha were powerful countries, and from the end of the last world war, their relationships were still very brittle. This murder had both countries up on their toes.
Before he could add anything else, Shikamaru pushed a wooden clipboard into Deidara's arms, piled with papers of the Investigation results. The blonde thumbed through the envelopes and pulled out the photos that the security cameras had taken when the murder had been committed, but they were so distorted, it was hard to tell who the silhouettes belonged to.
The first paper was a profile of the Third Kazekage, including his weight, height, and date of birth. The next was a copy of his autopsy report – blank, of course, besides his approximate time of death since the body and murder weapon were missing.
The second paper was a list of witnesses – only three – who had claimed to see some parts of the murder.
"Kakashi's assigned you to this one." Shikamaru said, jabbing a black and white photo of the teenage boy Deidara was looking at. Deidara followed his reading with one of his fingers, scanning over his profile:
Name: Sasori Kou Akasuna
D.O.B.: January 23rd
Weight: Aprox. 97lbs
"His residence is on Madison Drive. Number Five. Second floor. Room Thirteen." Shikamaru reminded Deidara even though he had already finished reading the boy's profile. "I've supplied you with plenty of paper. Go down to his apartment and get as much information as you can out of him. If you suspect anything about his testimony, alert the office and we'll bring him in to questioning tomorrow. Do you understand?"
Shikamaru said this slowly, as if he were trying to explain this to a small child, but Deidara still obliged.
His nose was invaded by an unpleasant smell. He turned to see his partner pull a lighter to the end of the cigarette he had kept tucked behind his ear. Shikamaru inhaled slowly and pulled it from his lips with his fingers, blowing a thick cloud of swirling smoke into the air before it dispersed. He set it between his teeth and outstretched his hand toward Deidara with a pack of five or so cigarettes left in the container. "You want one?"
Deidara shook his head. "…No…"
"…Ah, I see. Your fiancée would be upset with you."
"…Not just that, I have a baby coming soon…"
"How far along are you?"
Shikamaru grinned at his beaming partner, flicking his cigarette into a patch of snow and crushing it with his foot. "Do you know what his name is gonna be?"
"Her's, actually, and I think Sakura's still thinking of one." He shrugged. "She doesn't like my suggestions."
"I see…" There was a long pause. "…You sure you don't want one?" He offered again, shoving the box in front of Deidara's face. Deidara groaned and took one, shoving it into his pocket. "Fine, fine! I'll take it!!"
His partner chuckled. "Well, I'd best be going. I have to start my interview."
Deidara snapped back into reality and realized that he had best be doing the same. He waved to his partner and headed for the curb, getting into his black Volvo and retreating from Main Street at sixty miles an hour.
Madison Drive was in the rundown side of Konoha. It was the kind of place where most of the homeless people resided, as well as the people who could barely afford the housing they lived in. For a person fresh out of college, Deidara had a rather nice apartment, but seeing this made him feel like he lived in a Victorian Mansion. He was noticing the looks that the people on the street were giving him, like the Hokage himself was driving down their street. Then again, in a car this fancy, it would be hard not to avoid a suspicious, lustful eye from the residents. He ignored the stares and scanned the numbers on the curb for number five.
"Seven… no…" he whispered to himself almost inaudibly. "Six… almost there… Ah! Number five!"
He pulled up to the curb and stepped out of the car after securing his clipboard under his arm. He played with his keys for a bit before he managed to lock his car. The Volvo let out a happy, solitary note to signal that it was locked before its owner turned on it and retreated into the apartment complex.
The stairway was barely lit. It was easy to see where the steps were since his feet had gotten used to the length of his stride, but his eyes were having a hard time adjusting to the fly-infested, flickering light bulbs that were stationed well above his head.
His silence was quickly interrupted by a fit of banging coming from down the hallway. His spine tingled as he felt for the barrel of his gun, contemplating whether to draw it. By further investigation, he discovered it to the drums of some rather loud music. He was even more surprised to find it coming from door number thirteen. Typical behavior for a teenager, right? He used to listen to this type of music, too before he had fallen victim to other genres and his taste had changed.
He knocked firmly on the door, still not removing his hand from his gun. There was an awkward moment of ringing in his ears as the music stopped, but his heart still kept beating unruly against his ribcage. The door swung open in an instant, the wooden frame now occupied by a boy who barely came up to the height of Deidara's shoulders.
"Hello." He spoke softly, liquid velvet pouring from his thin, tinted lips.
Deidara couldn't find himself to speak. Sasori seemed rather kind in appearance, but the way he spoke was enough to slice Deidara's ears off. Just that one word had sent his heart beating faster and had stolen away his breath. He had a mysterious look about him, almost an innocent, childish appearance the way his feathery, light red hair fell, perfectly framed, over his round face and low over his eyes.
The boy was small both in height and in weight. He was unnaturally skinny and pale. His light brown eyes were to the point of graying, and filled with a raw emotion, almost like fear or hostility to some degree, giving Deidara the impression that he was looking at someone ten feet tall rather than five feet short.
Deidara flipped through the clipboard's papers and reread Sasori's profile, as if to check that this beautiful porcelain-skinned teenager was the same boy he read about earlier. He pulled the photo from beneath the paper clip and examined it thoroughly, though he couldn't find himself free of staring into the redhead's dusty brown eyes. He was so expressionless; as if there was some sort of mask he was intent on wearing to hide himself from the world.
Deidara put the clipboard at his feet and pulled the badge from his jacket pocket, showing it to Sasori like he had practiced in front of his mirror many times before. His lips were split into a cocky smile as he recited the words he had taught himself for times like this.
"Deidara Kamen. Konoha Department of Investigation." He said, allowing Sasori a quick glance at the polished badge before he closed the leather pouch and stashed it away into its pocket. Sasori's expression remained motionless, still, much to Deidara's embarrassment, locked on his only visible blue eye.
The redhead took a glance at the newcomer. His chiseled muscles were beautifully detailed from under the thin black shirt he wore. The only shame was the khaki jacket that covered the blonde's muscular arms. But Deidara still wasn't able to elude Sasori's gaze.
Sasori slid past the blonde and closed the door. "You're that detective." Sasori finished his thoughtful gaze with a blunt statement. "Ah, yes. The one the brown-haired detective told me I'd be seeing. I must admit, I was expecting someone a little older…" he trailed off with one of his long, thin fingers resting against his bottom lip. There was something odd about the way he said this.
"Please come in." He added, gesturing Deidara down the skinny hallway. Deidara followed Sasori's gesture with his eyes. The hallway looked like something plucked right from a nightmare. It was thin and claustrophobic, but also dark and seemed like there was no end to it. He had a feeling that if he walked down that hallway, he'd never get to the end of it.
"…Oy… I don't have all day." Sasori snapped, startling the blonde.
Deidara swallowed and obeyed, following behind Sasori as he lead the two of them down the hallway connecting the front door toward what he guessed to be the living room.
"So, you're that troublesome detective come to interrogate me." He repeated, this time with harsher wording. Deidara nodded, his throat still to dry to find words. Sasori walked into the small space occupied by his kitchen – if you could even call it a kitchen.
It had a sink and a fridge, but it was invaded by the living room couch. The fridge had a small TV on it with two antenna sticking in opposite, random directions from the top of it. There was a door to the left that was closed, which he suspected to be the bathroom since Sasori's idea of "Bedroom" was a pillow and a thick blanket draped over the back of his couch. Deidara almost felt sorry for him.
The coffee table was decorated with large, thick books and a heap of scratch paper with notes and drawings all over the pages. His finger curiously flipped through the books, all of them seemed to be medical and biology textbooks from over twenty years ago. These seemed to be where Sasori's money was going to.
"I want to be a surgeon." Sasori said, setting a cup of hot tea on top of the textbook Deidara had been looking through. He bowed his head politely and took the fragile china into his hands, taking a seat in the ripped, maroon chair across from the couch Sasori was sitting on.
Deidara placed the clipboard on his lap and filed through the case information with his thumb.
"Well, I've been assigned to Sandaime's Murder. I'm afraid we can't locate his body, but most people believe he had been assassinated while crossing Main Street to the taxi after his meeting with The Konoha Board of Directors. We can't find any murder weapons… or the body." Deidara finished, his head dropping a bit before his lips met the brim of his cup. "and I'm afraid our department considers you as a suspect for murder."
Sasori seemed unfazed by these words. He remained silent with his gaze on Deidara, his mind obviously occupied by different thoughts as he sipped his tea through a small crack in his lips.
"Deidara, is it?" Sasori stated after a long silence of staring and tea-sipping. He placed the cup on a pile of textbooks and kicked his feet up to rest on the coffee table. Deidara nodded, feeling a tinge of blush on his lips at the way Sasori said his name; it was more pronounced when Sasori said it.
"I can understand why I'm a suspect… since I was found at the crime scene… but… I would never murder anyone. Things like that are so… unforgiveable." There was a tone of sadness in his voice. "…My parents were killed when I was eight years old… ever since then, I've been alone. My grandmother moved to Konoha with me under her custody, but she had a heart attack two years after my parents were murdered. So," He took a deep breath as if to calm himself, "I've been alone since I can remember… I barely live with the money I make…" It was obvious since you could barely see Sasori's ribs budging from under his shirt.
Deidara wasn't sure if this was relevant to proving Sasori innocence, but his heart still reached out for him as he spoke since Deidara, too, had lost his parents.
"…I could never murder anyone…" he repeated. Deidara scribbled a brief summary of Sasori's statement onto a piece of paper. Sasori's face was filled with so much sadness, but it seemed that he couldn't conjure up any tears.
Deidara suddenly felt a great weight on his head, like someone had knocked him out. Sasori watched him from the other side of the couch as Deidara's head fell against his open palm.
"…are you okay?" the redhead asked, watching Deidara struggle to regain consciousness.
"…Ngh… yea…" he replied, clearly lying as he felt his eyelids grow heavy. His head drooped pathetically as his hand tried to maintain its weight. "…Just a little… tired… from work…"
Sasori sipped the last of his tea with his eyebrow raised. Deidara was surprised to find a devious smile hidden behind the cup after the china was lowered back to the table.
"…maybe you should take off from work for a bit." Sasori said with a different tone in his voice now as he watched Deidara with an amused smile.
"…I… I have to go…" Deidara said simply, cradling his head in his hands as he crossed the small room to the hallway. He collapsed against the side of the wall, pushing himself off as he limped toward the door, pulling it open.
It wasn't the front door – it was the closet. Deidara stumbled backward, his eye growing wide at the sight. He was greeted by not only jackets, but different sized jars containing diverse human organs. His bottom lip quivered at the sight of all the blood decorating the Third Kazekage's clothing. He was slumped, obviously dead, against the side of the closet, his bloodshot eyes watching Deidara like a hungry wolf.
His hand jumped to his mouth as tears of disgust formed in the corner of his eyes. He felt something crawl up the back of throat.
Deidara swallowed hard at the sudden realization that he was in the house of a murderer.
"Oh, dammit… that can't make me look too innocent…" said Sasori's icy cool voice from behind him. Deidara couldn't compose himself enough to escape, so he remained, shivering, motionless in the mercy of a killer. He couldn't look in Sasori's eyes, but he imagined them to be bloodshot and engrossed in the fear present everywhere on Deidara's body. He tried to move his legs, but they refused; paralyzed by fear. His lungs froze as his windpipe tightened. The fear stole all of the air from his body.
Sasori was ten feet tall again. He knelt down on one knee to look into the eyes of his victim. "Don't look so pathetic." It sounded more like a demand then a request. Deidara choked as he felt one of Sasori's thin, cold fingers stroke his throat.
"I don't want to kill you." Deidara felt some of the fear subside at these words. But his words sounded incomplete as if he wanted something from Deidara in exchange for his life.
The redhead got to his feet and looked down at Deidara as if he were a hawk watching its helpless prey try and scamper away from its predator. He stepped over Deidara, pulling a key from his jean pocket and locking the door so there would be no means of escape for the helpless blonde.
"What… d-do you… want…?" Deidara asked, afraid of his own question and keeping his gaze to the carpet. Sasori sneered at the thoughts surfacing in his mind, drinking in the fear with a deep breath.
"I want a lot of things, Deidara." Sasori replied. He walked down the hallway, juggling the key to the front door in one of his hands. Deidara realized for this to be an order for him to follow Sasori. He slowly trailed behind the redhead, limping with fresh fear as he crossed the small living room space. The coffee table separated the two of them. Of course, Sasori saw this as no obstacle and walked around it to meet Deidara's side.
The blonde was expecting to feel a gun, a knife, or Sasori's hands around his neck. Sasori brushed Deidara's bangs away to gain better access to his lips. He felt Sasori's hands slip up his chest and pull Deidara free of his khaki jacket, tossing it to the floor.
"What're you--?" Sasori threw Deidara onto his couch before he could finish. The redhead crawled up the other's body, pushing the weight of his frame against Deidara's stomach. Deidara remained dazed, confused, watching the raw emotion swirling in Sasori's face. His hands were pressed against Deidara's shoulders, keeping his upper-body from any form of free movement. He was surprisingly strong for a boy his age – and size, at that.
Deidara's hands, unrestricted by Sasori's compression, brushed against the barrel of his gun. He had been trained for situations like these – but not as physically awkward. He slowly listed the gun out, trying to keep his movements unnoticed by his captor.
In one swift movement, he flipped his hand up to direct it at Sasori, but he soon found his hand imprisoned by Sasori's powerful grip. He squeezed Deidara's wrist painfully and pried the gun from his clutches, pointing it at Deidara's forehead. And now had the tables turned, once again. Sasori leaned back, his legs still straddled over Deidara's waist, this time with a gun pointed directly at Deidara's forehead.
His pupils dilated in fear as he found himself having a staring contest with the mouth of a loaded gun.
"Please… Sa-Sasori…! Let me g-go! I won't tell anyone about what I saw—" His words were hushed, this time, by one of Sasori's fingers pressed against his quivering lips.
"Call me Sasori-Danna from now on." Sasori demanded in his soft, seductive, yet deadly voice. The blonde whimpered, but decided to obey Sasori's simple request.
"Good. Now… I'm not sure if I can trust you." He finished, cocking the gun and keeping it on target. "But I stick with my promises… and I promised I wouldn't kill you. But, in return, you have to make a few promises for me."
He swallowed a lump in his throat. Deidara had a gut feeling about this request, but he definitely didn't want to die. He nodded slowly. "…Yes… Da-Danna…" The words stuck in his throat as he said them.
Sasori grinned. "Now… I want you to clear me of all suspicion in your little investigations team."
Why did Deidara have a feeling that this was just going to get worse? "It'll be hard with all that evidence in your closet."
"Don't worry. They'll be here to pick it up tomorrow."
'They?' Deidara asked himself, deciding it best not to ask Sasori on what he meant.
"Oh, yes… and one more thing."
"I want to see you here… every Tuesday… all day… until I say otherwise." The gun remained locked on Deidara, and he soon realized that it was getting closer to his skin.
Sasori slowly reached across to the table, laying the gun just out of Deidara's reach onto its smooth surface in case he would need to use it later.
Sasori pressed his hands against Deidara's wrists, which were now pinned over his head. Deidara panicked, thrashing his legs before they were bound under the weight of Sasori's pelvis. The redhead's knee was pinned between Deidara's legs, pressing against the bulge in his pants. Deidara bit his lip to burry the almost pleasurable feeling arising in his groin. He felt one of Sasori's hands lift from his wrists, the other one holding both of them captive as the free hand snaked down the blonde's curving body. Instead of going where Deidara assumed, and almost hoped, it to be, it reached for something on his hip: his handcuffs, which were attached to his belt loop. They clicked open and wrapped around his thin wrists, thus giving the redhead no restriction to the use of his hands.
Which is exactly what he did.
"S-Sasori?!" he felt Sasori's hand lift him free of his black shirt. He impatiently bunched the material up by Deidara's wrists since there was no way he could get the shirt over the handcuffs. Deidara used this as something soft to grab on to, treating it like the only thing supplying the gravity from beneath his feet. "…Wa-wait…!"
Sasori ignored him and pulled himself free of his shirt. Deidara didn't pay attention to the band name written on its light brown surface as it fell to the floor. His eyes widened with shock, his breath, once again, stolen away from him.
Sasori's chest was smooth and scrawny with his skin pulled tightly over his developed muscles. On his chest was a deep, ugly scar over where his heart was hidden under his ribcage. Sasori seemed to notice Deidara's reaction by this, but refused to answer the pressing questions itching to escape from Deidara's lips.
His mind was quickly pulled off-track when he noticed the bony, smooth hand slipping down the front of his black jeans. Deidara struggled slightly, his cheeks flushing with an embarrassed shade of pink. The reaction out of this seemed to please the redhead, so he pressed onward by slipping his fingers under the hem of his victim's boxers and grasping his member, pleased by the spike in Deidara's body as he slowly arched off of the couch.
Deidara was tormented by the sudden reality that he was actually enjoying this. He soon found himself free of his own pants and boxers, joining his khaki jacket on the floor. Sasori did nothing more than pull his pants a little way down his small frame, denying Deidara a proper look at him; Instead, flipping the blonde onto his back.
He felt a colossal pain develop from where Sasori had forced himself in. The strength in his arms had fled, and he soon found his face smothering the couch cushions with a fit of moaning and tears. Sasori wasn't lenient and only brought more pain to the blonde by pushing himself in deeper. Deidara was awfully stubborn. He snaked an arm around the blonde's waist for leverage, driving deeper.
"…Sa-…!" Deidara pleaded, his voice too tired and overpowered with raw feeling to manage any proper words. "…Sa-…"
It always seemed like he was speechless around Sasori, anyway.
Sasori still disregarded Deidara's pleas. It didn't carry on for long before the pain subsided into an immense pleasure, but even that didn't last long with Sasori's growing pace. The pleasure faded away into nothingness and Deidara collapsed onto the couch, feeling Sasori pull away and get to his feet.
The redhead impatiently threw the blonde his clothing without a word before he re-clothed himself. Deidara still remained silent while dressing. Surely, his fiancée would have questions for him.
"Next Tuesday. Eight o'clock bright in the morning. No matter what…" Sasori said, keeping his back facing Deidara. Deidara pulled his clipboard to his chest and gave Sasori a slight bow before showing Sasori his back and turning toward the door.
"If the police show up, They will break me out" —There's that 'They' again— "If the police do arrive, I will assume that it was you who told them, and I will kill you."
Deidara swallowed at Sasori's words and turned the doorknob, finding it stuck halfway in its path.
"Danna… the door is—"
Sasori walked up behind him and slipped the key into the door, unlocking it. Again, Deidara bowed and left the door, only to be stopped by a tap on his shoulder. Sasori slipped the key into his hand.
"Now you can get in without raising suspicion."
"…um… thanks…" Deidara muttered, taking his first few steps away from the open door. He hadn't walked more than three feet before the door was shut and locked behind him, followed by another explosion of drums from Sasori's stereo.
He stepped out into the cold, finding his Volvo, surprisingly, still where he had left it. But upon further inspection, he found the passenger window smashed and his radio missing. He groaned and slipped his hand into his pocket, pulling his car key out. His ear caught a light THUMP on the ground beside him. He knelt down, finding its source to the cigarette that Shikamaru had given him earlier. He sighed and unlocked the car, slipping into the driver's seat and sticking the cigarette into his mouth.
He was still a little delirious from the drugs that Sasori had slipped into his tea, not to mention what else Sasori had done to him. He groaned and started the car, the engine startling him at first. Deidara rolled down his non-broken window and let the cool city air rush into the car. It gave him a calming feeling to be on the road again. Since his radio was missing, he didn't know what time it was. The moon's position in the sky suggested that it would be sometime past ten or eleven.
The blonde sighed and reached into his glove box for a lighter. He always kept one in case of emergencies, but he never thought that lighting a cigarette was an emergency. He held the now found lighter to the end of it, waited for the tip to illuminate, before he tossed the lighter into the back seat. He refused to inhale at first, but after a while he managed to adapt to the taste. After all, Shikamaru was his partner, and he smoked any chance he got, so Deidara had grown used to the smell.
When the dark part of the city grew illuminated by night clubs and flashing advertisements, he felt that he was home at last. He drove down the familiar streets until they had brought him to his home, right on the outskirts of town.
It was a small little house, but very comfortable. He drove into the driveway, knowing well enough that the sound of the garage door would wake Sakura. He drove in and quietly closed the door, flicking the cigarette into his damp lawn before kicking off his shoes and walking into the door. He found walking difficult at this point. He was tender with pain from Sasori's brutality. He still found it hard to believe that he had been outsmarted and outmatched by a fifteen year-old boy half his size. But what he found harder to believe was that part of him may have been in love with the boy.
Impossible. Deidara was seven years older than Sasori. Plus, he could be charged with child molestation since Sasori was legally too young to engage in such things.
The light flickered on. On cue, his Fiancée was standing in the doorway, wearing a robe over her light pink nightgown. Her arms were folded bitterly across her chest, but her aquamarine eyes were not filled with anger, but worry at the state her lover had returned in.
"Sorry, honey…" He said, pecking a kiss on her forehead. "I was working late."
She seemed to understand. Technically, it wasn't a lie.
"Your first big case…" She said, trying to sound happy and excited for him, but her voice was still worried.
He nodded and tried to flash her his usual cocky smile, but now all he wanted was a hot shower and bed. She allowed him to pass as he slipped into the bathroom connected to their bedroom. Sakura collapsed onto her side of the bed, watching Deidara undress and step into the steaming water. No sooner had the water shut off had she fallen victim to sleep.
Deidara rolled a towel around his hair and tied one around his waist. He quickly dried himself and slipped into a new pair of clean boxers, tossing his other ones into the trashcan under the bathroom counter. He soon found himself lying on his back, next to the person who mattered the most to him, playing monopoly with his mind. No matter how many times he tried to fight away what had happened, the images grew stronger. It became easier to remember where the freckles on Sasori's face were; how many flecks of gold he had in his dusty brown eyes; how pale his skin was, as well has how milky and smooth it felt.
He had to face the facts: He was in love with Sasori. He was struck with more grief at the sick hunger for Sasori's lips when he remembered that he had never kissed him. He then found himself dreaming about the flavor of the redhead's slender, pale-pink lips.
"Next Tuesday. Eight o'clock bright in the morning. No matter what…"
And judging by how quickly his heart had grown fond of him, next Tuesday wasn't coming fast enough.
Author's Note: This is what I get for playing too much Phoenix Wright and watching too many murder shows. I'm planning on making this somewhere between 3-5 chapters long. The Volvo came from Twilight, yes. I'm hooked on Volvos. As requested, the "World Wars" refer to the "Great Ninja Wars". Please review! Its makes me happy! :D