The Madness and the Cure

Pairings: SasoriSakura with a bit of SakuraDeidara
Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.
Warning:No on will be in character, so if you actually prefer that, you are free to read the manga. You should know me better than that by now. There will be lime in later chapters.
Full summery: She comes home from work to an apartment that smells of and booze. Paint brushes clutter the sink in place of dirty dishes and no one seems to spend any time on anything other than art. He works with clay, bring life to the dirt, she writes her art, and he carves it. They were called mad by society because they were artists. What society didn't know was that they were already mad, and that their art was the only thing that kept them sane.




Imagination does not breed insanity.
Exactly what does breed insanity is reason.
Poets do not go mad; but chess players do.
Mathematics go mad, and cashiers; but creative artists very seldom.

-G.K. Chesterton




Warm breath met cold night air in a puff of white that rose and died right before her listless eyes. The unlit cigaret dangled from her limp fingers, having been there now for the past three hours. She was trying to quit, but every now and then she let herself indulge with this one sinful pleasure. She didn't want to break tonight, but the white clouds before her eyes were starting to wear away her ever wavering will.

A couple passed in front of her, trying their best to avoid her drugged appearance, obviously thinking there was something louche about her and the shady way she sat. She didn't blame them, considering how late it was and where she was. The bar she had planned on visiting was only two blocks down, though it's drunks and druggies would often run by calling out things they would regret after the hangover.

Tonight was a friday, so plenty of people were off from work and partying it out with like minded friends. She had decided to avoid that place tonight.

Twirling her cigaret around in her fingers once more, she stuck the stick of tobacco between her lips and held it there with here teeth. The taste was there, teasing her, but she resisted. The drug store wouldn't let her walk in with a lit smoke, and she was really craving some beer right now. The smell was driving her insane when she couldn't taste it.

She pat the seat of her skinny jeans, not enjoying how sore she was after three hours of sitting on a street bench. She wasn't wearing a jacket like most people this hour, choosing to instead show off her pale arms and the fishnet gloves that made most people on the street avoid her at this hour. She shivered lightly against the cold air, but shrugged it off, using mind over matter.

A drunk across the street called out to her with slurred words, offering her something along the lines of a 'good time' or something else that was equally smutty and lousy. Sakura ignored him easily enough, even though it unnerved her that he had ben watching her and waiting fro her to get up from her seat to call out to her.

Turning her back on the bar, she trekked the four blocks to the StreetMart were they were still selling beer at this hour. The girl behind the counter spared her a lazy glance, but didn't say anything until Sakura was at the counter with her six pack, flashing her ID and setting down the money. Taxes on this stuff were going to drive her broke if she didn't make some more money soon. Between the beer and the smokes she was bleeding dry.

The check out chick said something about coming back soon, but they both knew no one was paying attention to weightless words like that.

With no where else to go at this hour, she left the sidewalk and cut behind some houses till she was at that kiddy park she could have sworn was the same one that she had played on when she was eight. They all seemed to look the same to her now. Pulling out her lighter, she let the flames dance up in front of her face to kiss the end of her cigaret, setting it off.

She set her beer down in front of her as she slid into a picnic table littered with graffiti and breathed out. This would probably be where she spent the night. There was no home for her, not anymore. But that's okay, because she chose this life.

Her parents were politicians and didn't want someone like her throwing dirt on their reputation. Having an artist as a daughter? Was there no greater shame for those two unfaithful whores. They bribed her with money if she moved out and lived on her own, and she gladly accepted. Anything was better than the verbal abuse she had to put up with them and all the shrinks that tried to fix her. They had stopped sending her money last month and so she had to move out of her apartment.

"What? You can't live off your finger paintings?"

"Being a novelist is like being a idiot. No one will respect you when you try and fail for something like that."

Her mother and father's words played over and over again in her head, not much less painful than a rusty nail being hammered into her skull. Who did they think they were, talking about the ideal life when they hated each other, and only stayed together because it was a good public image. They only had kids because it made them look good, and even then Sakura had her doubts about really being her father's daughter. They were both as faithful as Bill Clinton.

A bummblebe yellow 1969 Camero with black racing stripes down the hood, pulled up behind Sakura, lighting up everything behind her with it's headlights. She didn't bother to turn around, already knowing who it was. He had been perusing her relentlessly with his insane requests for quite a while now. The lights went out and the engine died. She heard a car door open and then close, and she knew someone was already out.

"Can't you see I'm trying to sleep like a bum in peace, here?" Sakura asked, feeling the male sit down across from her, rocking the picnic table with the unsettled weight.

The irascible blond who always seemed to be ready to fight, seemed strangely serene tonight as he reached for a beer from her pack and opened it with his teeth. "You don't have to be a bum, remember? Don't complain about stuff you can fix, un."

Sakura looked up and glared at Deidara, her childhood friend who was also an artist. The only differences were that he specialized in clay art and he had a job...a good paying one. It was something that always stood out whenever they met. He was more talented and dedicated so of course his art would sell better. "Once I get a job I'll find my own place and fix this mess myself. I don't need you help."

"Don't you, un?"

Sakura glared at him icily, but he just continued to smile that cheeky, rakish, know it all type of smile, never once wavering. "I hear prostitution is always good business."

Deidara's grin falter and was replaced by a stern edged frown. He knew it was a joke, but still it unsettled him to hear those words coming out of her mouth. "Stop talking shit like that when we both know your still a virgin, damn it."

"And you know that how?" she teased with as straight a face as she could muster.

Deidara was not amused. "Come live with me."


"You can't survive like this on your own! At least not happily."

"I don't need your charity, Deidara. And even if I did you're still living in that condo with your friend. I don't want to live with two other guys."

"Why not? You know me like a brother and you've met Sasori once or twice. He's really not such a bad guy once you get to know him. Come on Sakura, stop being a stubborn bitch and wake up. You're living like a bum in kiddy parks with beer and cigarets. When was the last time you slept in a bed? Anything would be better than this."

When Sakura still looked liked she was about to decline Deidara pulled out his ace in the hole-knowing full well she wouldn't be able to refuse him. "I'll let you use my studio and my art supplies whenever you want. You can start writing again and I'll help you get a publisher if you want."

Sakura growled, and glared at her friend for saying what he said. Taking a long drag that had smoke flying up in her face, she turned towards her beer and pulled out one for herself, biting the cap off with her teeth just like Deidara had. She was the one that had taught him how to do that, after all. "Nothing is that good, Deidara."

"It is if you want it to be, un."

"What would I have to do? Ther's got to be a catch."

"Marry me?"

"A plausible catch, wacko."

Deidara pouted, discouraged with her willingness to take him seriously whenever he brought up the prospect of advancing their relationship. Was it too much for her to see him as a serious partner for her. He could provide for her just fine and he knew he could make her happy. "How about a dinner that's not take out or instant every once in a while. I'm a guy remember, I can't cook worth shit for the life of me."

"What about the chores like laundry and cleaning?"

"We have a maid for that."

Sakura made a face before taking a very unladylike swing of her beer. "What are you, like fucking rich?"

"Sort of, but it's not because of me. Sasori is the one that brings in the heavy dough. His grandma is still alive so she pays for us sometimes too." Deidara saw that hesitation crawl back into her eye at the mention of Sasori's name and he hastened to fix that. "But he's almost never there, so you don't have to worry about that guy, un."


"Oh come on Sakura. Don't you want to write again?"

She paused, her beer at her lips and her cigaret dangling from her free hand. She looked over at Deidara who looked ever so hopeful and the down at the beer and smoke that she was indulging herself with. She was going to end up killing herself this way if the neighborhood bangers didn't screw her brain out with a gun first. She wasn't stupid, just...proud and stuck up and damn if she knew the rest. She would be a fool to pass up an opportunity like this once again, and she doubted it would ever come again.

But then again, there was the issue of Deidara himself. She didn't mind living with this Sasori guy so much as long as he kept to himself and didn't bother her like Deidara said he wouldn't. That wasn't the problem. But her life long blond friend was another story. Living with him would surly push them closer together and she knew when that happened she would have to push Deidara away and break his heart all over again.

She wasn't oblivious like some sixteen year old high school girl. She knew Deidara liked her in that way and she knew she didn't feel that way about him. He got light and happy whenever they were around and he always seemed to be looking for an excuse to touch her, hold her hand, stay with her longer or keep her close. She didn't feel anything when they were together, or at least nothing more than friendship. More like a brother than anything, she couldn't possibly think about him in that way.

Once when they were a few years younger he had gotten drunk and confessed everything to her. He kissed her deeply before passing out and so she knew that she felt nothing for him. It wasn't any different than having your best friend kiss you after coming home from a trip or something. No sparks, no butterflies, no nothing. There was no love from her, even though she knew it was eating him up inside.

Did she want to really do this and possibly lead him on? They would be living under the same roof so who knew what would happen. What about Sasori? If he was there Deidara certainly wouldn't try anything. Not as long as that third party was in the next room over, no matter how much he wanted to.

Sasori... That name really rang a bell in her head. She had met him twice in her life, but both times stuck out in her life. Unlike Deidara, Sasori was calm, collected, and serious for the most time. He was taller than Deidara too, with semi long messy red hair that matched his wine colored eyes and tickled his neck. He didn't talk much, or so she had been told, but both times she had seen him, she found him to be a great source for conversation. Maybe that was because they were both artists with similar views.

"Please Sakura," Deidara asked, once again.

Sakura looked up at him, broken out of her thoughts that seemed to wander a bit too much for a night like tonight. She sighed and ran a hand through her uneven pink locks, hating how they were in need of another shower. "You owe me a beer anyway so I guess I can try it out for a while."

That was three weeks ,

Five days,

And sixteen hours ago...




Before you come to kill me for starting another story, let me just say this is practically done and I was originally going to make it a oneshot, but at the last minuet broke it up and decided to feed it out to you guys as chapters. There's going to anywhere from three to five chapters before I finish this so it's not that bad. This is just something to keep you happy while I work on my other stories and the other stuff around my contest. What? You haven't heard about that? You should go check that out.

Thanks for reading, and as always....REVIEW

Vesper chan