A/N: This is the sequel to "Art is Art No Matter How Corrupted." Thank you to all my readers who have been severely patient with me. I finally got Internet back and I hope I don't disappoint you all for the wait with this story. That said, I apologize for the ending to Art. I know it wasn't exactly the best, but this will definitely be better. Anyways! Just to let you know...the bijuu have all been infused in people. If the bijuu were not assigned to any Jinchuuriki, I assigned them one. Even if it is an OC. But it won't matter, seeing that they will not be mentioned much. Thank you for the reviews from everyone. And Rainstar...thanks XD Hope you enjoy! Ja ne!


Fated Reunion

Chapter 1: After Two Years


As soon as Pein told him to come back to base, saying the mission was over, Deidara was all too thrilled. It was rather tedious pretending to be part of the Suna council. He frequently came home with headaches and had to rethink everything he would say the next day. Deidara was normally a spur of the moment person. Not a 'plan it out and stick to the plan' type of person that he knew. Or rather, used to know. While Deidara was attending the council meetings with the Kazekage, he discovered their intentions to up the security. The members of the council caught word of a traitor amongst their group. How, the blond did not know. All that mattered was that he had to watch what happened and what he said.

The council agreed upon a series of tests, involving questions, actions, and other things. They even raided his room while he was out. Luckily, Deidara had disposed of his Iwa headband long ago. Right before he came to Suna, he buried it on the outskirts of Suna, never to be found by the idiot Suna guards. Deidara passed the tests with flying colors. It helped having a Suna partner in the Akatsuki. Sasori had taught Deidara many things about Suna. One of the questions that were asked was 'what was Sasori of the Red Sand's specialty?' Deidara had to admit that he answered that way too eagerly, but the guard was amazed when he started to describe it. Of course, he made it sound like he did some major research, thus the guard's ignorance.

Deidara smirked at all the happenings in Suna. Sasori was right. There never was a dull moment there. The Kazekage, of course, was skeptical about him, as he should have been. Luckily, he wasn't discovered. That would have ruined the mission. Deidara was thankful that Pein contacted him when he did. Otherwise, he was sure he would be confronted sometime soon. Gaara had, after all, gotten so much better at reading people.

Throughout the whole time he was there, Deidara occasionally thought about Sasori. Well, not occasionally. More like often. Alright, he thought of him all the time. He still loved his danna and that would never change. How he would act when they met again, though, the blond could not say. He was truly hurt. In reflex, he lashed out at Sasori. It wasn't the blond's fault. He just didn't know how else to act around him. He didn't know if acting normally would work anymore. He knows the puppeteer broke up with him to make their possible death easier on each other, but in truth, Deidara knew it made it worse. It would affect the Iwa-nin worse knowing Sasori died. That love was still there. No matter what they did, the fact of each other's death would devastate the other.

As Deidara flew on his clay bird, he laid on his back, staring up at the stars that sparkled in the sky. Each twinkling and shining its brightest, as if trying to outdo the others. Their beauty was amazing. The deep midnight blue sky, speckled with millions of tiny white, shining specs, made Deidara a little reluctant to go back to the Akatsuki base. The view of the stars was never this good back at base. There were too many lights obstructing the dim illumination.

The blond closed his eyes in exhaustion. He had put up a royal fight of the minds with Gaara these past two years. He had to be strong and be careful of his wording and actions. Otherwise, Gaara would have him killed. Or would try to. Deidara could beat him. He was sure of it. If not, he needed to do some serious training.

As he laid there, his thoughts drifted back to a certain red headed puppeteer. The blond smiled. Those beautiful chocolate eyes made him feel welcome. The way they sparkled ever now and then. The part Deidara loved most about them was that they only sparkled for him. They only shone brightly for him. His eyes were two lonely stars that were looking for their sky. And they had found it in Deidara's cerulean blue eyes.

His eyes weren't the only thing that were great about Sasori, however. True, he could see into his danna's soul just by looking, but that wasn't all there was to the puppeteer. He was like a puzzle that was begging to be solved. As corny as it sounded, Sasori was still very much a mystery to Deidara. And he wanted to solve it. Of course, he had to get past the negative emotions and insecurity, not to mention the coldness, but Deidara was sure, if given the chance, he could, and would, solve the mystery that was Sasori.

During the two years at Mount Fuji, Sasori had not once thought of Deidara. That part of his was long gone. He was at first hurt, but then as the months progressed, he found himself slowly forgetting every bit of happiness Deidara brought him. That's the thing with memory. It slowly faded away in time. It never lasted forever. Sasori even forgot the blond's voice. It wasn't that he didn't care enough to remember, that wasn't at all it. He just got so engulfed in his mission that he simply didn't think about anything else. And over time, his not remembering Deidara, caused the memories he had of the Iwa-nin to go away.

Sasori grew frustrated with himself. As he walked back to the Akatsuki base in the sanctity of Hiruko, the puppeteer wracked his brain to remember that which he forgot. He couldn't help but feel a sense of vacancy and emptiness. Like an important part of him was missing. A part which he needed desperately to get by in this miserable life. He felt as if his sun was gone. Normally, he wouldn't care. Normally, he was content being hollow and empty. It was how he was used to being. But then it changed by someone. Someone whose face Sasori couldn't remember for the life of him.

The Suna-nin gingerly brought his hand to his chest, over his encased heart. He felt a sort of electricity when he touched it. For a split second, he felt a subtle warmth and softness. But it was not from him. From someone else. Sasori sat there, utterly confused. If he were human, he'd have a raging headache right about now. He closed his eyes and saw a face. Sasori studied it behind his eyes. Who was this person? The high, graceful cheekbones. The arrogant, yet comforting and childish grin. The shining, innocent blue eyes. The heavenly blond hair that looked oh so soft. The feminine, yet masculine figure.

Sasori's eyes shot open. "Deidara," he breathed with realization. That was his sun. He was the sun to his sky. The stars in his sky. The love in his heart. The puppeteer felt horrible for forgetting him. All the memories came rushing back. The smile. Oh, that smile. The one that could make anyone go weak in the knees. And Sasori was no different. He had fallen for the blond. Badly. The last existing memory he had of the blond, however, was him breaking up with his little nymph. The Suna born frowned. How could he? After all they did. After all they said.

Sasori bowed his head. He clutched his chest roughly. He felt the same emotion he felt two years ago. It was heart wrenching and stomach turning. Regret. He regretted every negative thing he said or did to Dei. He missed his voice. His hyperactivity. The way he looked at him with love and acceptance. Sasori missed it all. He never thought it possible. The only reason Deidara was so cruel to him when they all separated was because he was sick of hiding his pain. Sasori knew that. He wished he could make things right.

Was it simply his own fear that drove Sasori to break up with Deidara? Or was it concern for Deidara? Sasori didn't know. He knew he had to find out though. The blond would want answers. Sasori sighed. Something as trivial as emotions shouldn't be affecting him this bad. He made it back to base in Hiruko and was greeted by Kisame and Itachi. They stared at him and Kisame shook his head. The puppeteer had the right mind to tell them off, but was greeted by that voice he longed to hear for the past two years.

"I'm alive, yeah!" came the chipper, hyperactive voice the red head remembered. Sasori stopped mid step and turned to look at the blond through Hiruko's withered, hard eyes. He looked the same. If anything, he looked more mature. Deidara was now nineteen. The Suna born had forgotten. Unable to look at the beauty that was his partner, and ex, Hiruko turned and scuttled away to his room. Once past the door, the hunched over puppet waddled over to the bed. The back popped off and Sasori stood, cracking his back. He hadn't once left the shelter of Hiruko for the past two years. Not even to eat. Instead, he had Hiruko open up so he could get the food. Otherwise, he was isolated. Cut off from the world. Oblivious to those warm touches Deidara once showed him.

The Suna-nin shook his head angrily as he sat on the bed. He pulled Hiruko up to him so he could tweak a few things. The tail was damaged from a confrontation with the Yonbi. The bastard creature attacked him without warning. Sasori cursed his luck. At least he wounded it to get it away. After all, if he were to kill it, Pein would have a conniption fit.

As the Suna puppeteer sat there, tweaking the weapons arsenal inside Hiruko, he heard a light rapping at the door. He lifted his head and shrugged it off. It wasn't important. Nothing was important anymore since he made the mistake of the century: breaking up with Deidara. He could still feel the light tracing of the delicate fingers that were Deidara's, outlining his scorpion symbol on his heart container. It all came back as a dream. The one time he was ever able to feel anything was when he was near his blond bird. Physical or emotional, the brat made him feel it all.

There was another knock at the door, this time louder. Sasori lost his patience and threw a screwdriver at the door. "Nani!?" he growled.

There was a slight chuckle before the door opened. "You're still temperamental, yeah," came the soft voice that belonged to his...or rather, used to be his, blond. The mud brown eyes that belonged to the puppeteer remained cold and emotionless. He was too far gone to show any emotion, such as happiness or love, for the Iwa-nin. Sasori shrugged and saw the blond retrieve the screwdriver. He walked over to the bed, where the red head sat, and handed it to him quietly with that same heart warming smile of his. "Some things never change, un," he said softly.

Sasori felt what little heart he had left break at that tone. "What do you care?" he spat. Why was he being so cruel when he was the one that ended things? He had no right. His subconscious was mentally screaming at him for it.

The blond sighed and crossed his arms. "Ya know, Sasori...you really need to stop-"

"Don't lecture me, brat," he ground out, tightening Hiruko's hinge. "If you need something, spit it out. If not, there's the door," he said, pointing the tool at the door with cold eyes.

The blond's soft blue eyes hardened as Sasori basically told him to fuck off. What he didn't know was that this was Sasori's way of dealing with heartache. Deidara didn't understand that it hurt the red head just to be in the same room with him. The blond sighed. He got up quietly, him having taken a seat next to his danna after he took the tool. He walked to the door. "I just came to show you I was still alive, un. But...I guess you don't care, yeah," he said indignantly, leaving with a slam of the door.

Sasori sighed in frustration and felt a headache. He stopped rubbing his temples. Wait. Headache? He wasn't human...so why-

His eyes widened exponentially and he stood abruptly. Could it be that his jutsu was weakening? Could it be that he was regaining his normal human abilities? Though his body was puppet, he still had his real body. His actual body. He blinked and immediately switched to it. Once settled, he proceeded to pinch his arm. He felt a pain where the pinch was and he released a small gasp. He had to tell Deidara!

As Deidara walked through the hallway, his feet dragged, his shoulders sagged. He still loved his danna, but apparently Sasori got over him. That was to be expected, right? They had been away from each other for two whole years. Sasori and Deidara never talked. The only person they relayed back to was Pein. And only Pein. The blond sighed heavily as he walked to his room.

As he walked, he bumped into someone, his sight turned downward. His head shot up and was met by the fiery red eyes of the Uchiha elder, Itachi. The blond glared, still hating him for what he did to him. The bastard was the whole reason he went through this unnecessary trouble. If he had simply been left alone...

Itachi stared down at him silently before pinning him against the wall by his neck, just like he did to Sasuke so long ago. He leaned closer to the blond and pressed his lips against the sculptor's. Deidara's eyes widened. He hated him, so why was he kissing him? And it was just the blond's luck that the object of his affection was turning the corner to see them. Sasori froze mid step as he viewed the sight before him. Deidara against the wall, Itachi kissing him, Deidara's hands on the Uchiha's chest, a blush present on his cheeks.

As Sasori looked on, he failed to notice the blond struggling to get Itachi off. Instead, he viewed it as him trying to take off his Akatsuki cloak. The red head was thoroughly disgusted. He showed no sign of it, though. He just turned on his heel and went back to his room.

Deidara whimpered and realized what it looked like. Finally, Itachi let up. The Uchiha smirked and left to his room. The Iwa-nin slid down the wall quietly, tears threatening to spill. Sasori really didn't care about him. Normally, he would have saved him. Just now, he looked disgusted and hateful. Not to mention jealous as sin!

The blond stood and decided he would attempt to make things right with the red head that was his partner. Things were not as easy though. That sight looked very bad. Sasori and him had just gotten in a fight, and here he was kissing someone else in plain view. Things would not blow over well for the two. Deidara felt horrible. He needed Sasori. He'd be lying to himself if he said he didn't.

With that, Deidara ran to Sasori's bedroom. He knocked on the door desperately. "Danna!?" he yelled, tears threatening to spill over. There were quiet steps heard inside, leading to the door. Deidara started to get nervous. "Danna? Come on, un!" he called, knocking on the door again. Tears were hanging at the corner of his visible eye. The door opened, revealing a very pissed looking Sasori. His eyes held nothing but hatred and disgust, which ended up making the Iwa-nin feel even worse. "Danna, you don't-"

"Spare me, brat. What you and Uchiha do is your own business. Do not come to me with your problems," Sasori spat, trying to close the door in the blond's face.

"Danna, wait, un!" he cried, slamming his hand against the door, stopping it from closing. The red head glared at him, threatening to make him experience the worst of his poisons if he did not release the door. "Glare at me all you want, but you don't know what happened, yeah!" the younger cried, glaring back as well.

"You act as if I give a shit," he growled back, his hurt and anger coming through his well built mask. Damn this blond for making him feel these emotions. Damn him for making him show his weaknesses.

The blond seemed to have shrunk back a bit at those words. "If you didn't care...then why did you look so jealous, un?" he asked, his voice low and soft.

Sasori lost his temper. He grabbed Deidara's wrist and yanked him into the room, slamming the door behind him. As soon as the door was shut, Sasori pinned his ex lover against the door. Deidara whimpered a bit, trying to hide his pain. The red head glared at him, his face twisted in a sadistic way. "You are not understanding. I said I don't care. It's your life. Not mine. I couldn't give two shits what you do with your life. But if you wish to make out with someone, move it to a room. There are some people that do not want to see it," he growled in an eerie calm voice.

The Iwa born stared at Sasori and saw his hurt. It had hurt him. He reluctantly brought his hand up to the other's face. Before he could touch him, the angered red head grabbed his wrist harshly. His wrists were now pinned to the door by his head, an angry Suna-nin staring back at him. "Danna-"

"Don't call me that, Deidara."

The blond had had enough. He pursed his lips together at what he was about to do. He quickly leaned forward, capturing the older's lips with his own. The red head froze. He could feel it. For once in years...he could feel it. Nonetheless, Sasori pulled away and pushed Deidara against the door roughly, backing away as if he had been struck. He glared at the blond. Said Iwa man just stared at him, searching the brown eyes for any hints as to what he was feeling. He looked for a while until he found what he was hoping for. "Danna, can I please explain myself?" he asked softly, his brow furrowed in pain and sadness.

Sasori remained silent, still trying to calm himself. His fists were clenched at his sides angrily. His face held no emotion, but his body shook with rage and something else. Taking his danna's silence as a sign to continue, Deidara allowed a small smile to grace his lips. He lowered his head, his blond hair falling into his eyes and covering his face. "Itachi forced it, yeah...I didn't want to kiss him, un. You should know that. I hate him, yeah." He raised his head to look at the red head. Tears were falling down his cheeks. "I still love you, danna," he cried quietly.

The Suna born couldn't believe his ears. His fists reluctantly stopped shaking and unclenched. Possibly against his will. He couldn't be certain. All he knew was that he was either being played, or Deidara meant it. The blond pushed himself off the door and ran to the puppeteer. He flung his arms around him, causing Sasori to stumble a bit. He looked down at the blond that had him in a tight embrace and who was crying into his chest desperately. His anger wouldn't completely diminish. But this time...it wasn't at Deidara. Or even Itachi. It was at himself for what he did two years ago.

"Danna, please...say something!" he cried desperately, grip tightening around his danna. When Sasori was this quiet, he was usually contemplating something. Deidara didn't want to think of what the red head could, and would, do to him with his anger shot through the roof like this. Instead of a slap, punch, choke, or anything of that nature like Deidara was expecting, he felt arms wrap around him. The hold held uncertainty and reluctance. "Danna-"

"Shut up, brat," he said stoically. The blond lowered his head and took in the feeling of his danna holding him. It brought back so many memories. So many memories that had been nagging him for years. He truly missed his danna more than anything. It felt good to have him hold him like this again. Even if it were only for a few minutes. Even if it was a one time thing.

They stood there in each other's arms for a while. No words were spoken. No promises were made. Nothing. Just holding each other. But it was enough to make both of them happy. The happiest they've ever been in the two years they were separated. The blond suddenly started slipping down, almost falling. Sasori tightened his grip around him and looked down at him. His brow twitched. The blond had fallen asleep. What a drag...

TBC