Author's Notes:

Whoa, new fandom. This is destabilizing for me. So bear with me. Please?

Okay, I should introduce myself. I'm LoZ4Life, nickname says it all, and I recently got urges to write for the best anime on earth, Naruto. So I did. Here's a little something that will get me started in the Naruto fandom.

As for my style of writing, my Zelda readers know it. I write Action/Adventure/Romance, but I'm not a supporter of yaoi. I don't mind it, but I don't support it either. The only thing I absolutely cannot stand are lemons. My writing style is very direct, with very simple vocabulary. I also love sarcasm and cynical remarks, as well as dark humour, so sarcasm or humour during a character death or something is very normal to me. I'm pretty sure I don't make spelling or grammar mistakes, cause English is my 2nd language. I'm sadistic, and love torturing sexy blond guys. And I'm a girl. So... FANGIRL~ xD

Mkai, introductions are over. Go on and read, and I'd love to get your feedback, since I probably SUCK in the Naruto fandom right now. More info on the fic/oneshot at the end.



What does it feel like?

To belong, I mean. I wouldn't know. All my life, I've been rejected, passed on from one hand to another, and always thrown away for other hands to pick up. No one wants me. And that's because I am a freak of nature. And I just wish that one day, someone will look down nicely at me, instead of glaring with those loathing eyes. I've never done anything to them, in fact, THEY'RE the ones doing things to ME!

I just wish that someday, an angel will sweep down and carry me off. Anywhere else than here, anyway. I'm tired of being hated, hurt, used. I don't want to live this life of pain anymore. I don't want to walk this path of suffering. Won't anyone save me from the hellhole that is my home village of Iwagakure?

I am a kid with broken wishes and dreams. I am a kid who is hated for something he cannot control. I am a kid who has given up on hoping.

My name is Deidara. Those were my thoughts. This is my story.


It started out as another normal day. Yet another day where I got up early in the morning, yawning and stretching. Still very early. Perfect.

I got up from the small mattress I slept on and fumbled around in the darkness. I felt some clothes, and immediately put them on, not caring what they were. Clothes are clothes, and I don't have the luxury of being picky with them.

Once dressed, I got up and headed for the small window on the wall of the tight attic, and opened the dusty shades, filling my dark room with sunlight. The rays of sun shone over the dusty floor and the bare walls, occasionally encountering a dirty pair of socks, or most of the time, just one of them, or a sweater or rarely, pants. I never kept my room in order. Better things to do.

I grabbed a worn out comb from the small table that was pretty much all that took up the space of my so-called 'room' and gently combed through my blond locks. Some people laughed at me because they reached my waist and made me look like a girl. But screw their thoughts. My hair is one of the things I love most in this life.

After combing them, I pulled them up at the top of my head in a tight ponytail, shortening the flowing hair just a little bit. Afterwards, I quickly combed over my left eye, making my fringe drop over it, blocking the outside view. To finish up, I grabbed the headband that I had somehow MIRACULOUSLY gained after somehow MIRACULOUSLY passing the test at the academy.

I toyed with it a little, making the sun glint off of the metal surface in which was engraved the symbol of Iwagakure, the Village Hidden in the Stones. Then, done playing with it, I tied it behind my head, the metal glinting off on my forehead, the symbol of Iwa halfway covered by my fringe.

I then sat down and grabbed my sandals. I quickly slipped them on, strapping them on and getting up. Grabbing some dirty bandages from next to my comb, I turned away as I mechanically wrapped my arms with them up to the elbows. I didn't wish to see the elements that gave me this life.

Sighing, I listened quietly for any sounds coming from the house, then opened a trap door in the floor, feeling for a ladder. I quickly closed the trap behind me, and got down to the second floor of the actual house. I could hear some heavy snoring coming from the room next to the bathroom, and smiled in glee. HE wasn't awake yet.

Noiselessly, I ran down the stairs to the kitchen, and gently opened the fridge door, careful not to wake the other inhabitant of this house up. I simply browsed through the seemingly endless rows of beer, trying to find something to eat. Doesn't this guy have anything else than beer in this freakin refrige-Hey look! Vodka!

Rolling my eyes at my own sarcasm, I pushed the vodka bottle away, and finally saw a small milk carton. Deciding it was what I would have today, I poured a glass of it, and put it back in the fridge. Then, I reached up and opened a cupboard, feeling around for some cereals. It wasn't hard, as there was only one box of plain cereal in the otherwise empty cupboard.

I poured some of the big cereal bits in my hand, and put the box back inside the cupboard. I didn't have time to sit down and eat. My 'caretaker' would wake up soon, and trust me, he's not a morning person.

Shoving the cereals in my mouth, I quickly gulped down my milk as I ran for the front door, throwing my empty cup among the mess of beer cans and bottles. One more cup won't hurt. Besides, I'M the one who'll be doing the cleaning around here anyway.

I quickly shut the door behind me, not caring anymore if it slammed or not. Taking a deep breath and smiling at the sun, I set off for school.

As soon as I stepped inside the front schoolyard, everyone present shut up and glared at me. Being pretty much used to it, I simply walked towards the front gate, entering the school. The bell would ring soon anyways, and I always got into class first by default, because of a lack of having nothing better to do.

Slowly gathering my books for the first three classes, I shoved them into my small backpack, closed my beaten locker and locked it before heading towards my first class.

Once inside, I picked out the seat at the back corner of the room, furthest away from the class. That's where I usually sat, so that people wouldn't bother me during classes, where I did everything BUT listen to the teacher.

Not that they cared, or anything. No one really cared what I did. Not even the person who was supposed to take care of me. I had to care, though. I had to be the best shinobi of the Stone Village. I had to surpass my comrades and teachers, because it's time I took my destiny in my own hands and went by my own rules... And... not sink as low as the inhabitants of this stupid village told me I was...

The teacher suddenly walked in, holding his papers in his hands. Not a minute after, the students poured in, talking and laughing. I brought out my books and piled them on my desk, keeping away from eyeshot what I was doing. At least, the teacher would have to really glare at me to see, but no one could really stand looking at me for more than a couple of minutes. I can't say if it's a bad or good thing.

Sighing, I slumped into my seat a little, feeling drowsy. I wanted to sleep, but falling asleep in class would get me in trouble, and trouble would mean it'll get harder to run away from this place later on. I had to stay awake, so I wouldn't compromise my future dreams.

"What are you doing, Deidara?" the teacher suddenly interrupted my musings. "Class started, and I asked for you to take out your notebooks!" he ordered with a rough tone I knew he only used with me.

"Sorry, un." I muttered, hearing snickers all around me. I took my notebook out keeping a blank sheet of paper under it. Pretending to take notes of the subject we talked about for three classes by now, I started drawing.

Drawing is one of the things I'm good at. People don't like me for it, but art... art is my life. My art is also my way of fighting. It's my nindo, my way of the ninja, it's my inspiration, it's my motivation, it's my everything. It helps me relax and take my mind off of things, especially when I feel sad. I draw, paint, but most of all, I like...

No, not like.

I adore sculpting with clay.

People just don't understand that, though.


Lunchtime was always a pain. Not only did I never have anything to eat, mostly because I was in a rush in the mornings, and plus, we never had anything good to eat at home, but sometimes, the older ninjas picked on me... for lunch money. I know, I know, it's extremely cliché, and a number of times, I've told them to scram and go find their own money since I didn't ever have any, but they seemed to enjoy picking on me.

Somehow, that doesn't surprise me.

"Hey, brat."

I growled under my breath, not wanting to turn around. I pretended being absorbed in my work, sculpting a small bird out of clay, hoping they'd shove off. But chance never really shone on me, barely even spared me a glance, and so I found myself hanging in the air, suspended by the collar of my hoodie, facing the scariest 15 year old Genin I've seen in my life.

"I'm not a brat, un." I muttered under my breath, gritting my teeth.

"Course you are." The older Genin laughed and threw me away. I hit the ground, rolling sideways a bit. Tears rushed up to my eyes, but my side was already immune to the pain, so it must have been real sadness.

Maybe it's because I felt really bad being thrown around like that? Just like my past responsible adults had done to me? Just throw me around, passing from one person's hands to another?

"You know what I don't like about you?" he suddenly bent down and picked me up again. I winced, but didn't say anything.

"What now, un?" I muttered, looking away from his eyes. I knew from personal experience, that looking into the eyes of a person who is begging for an alibi to hurt you is asking for trouble.

"You don't whine like the others." He made a tch noise and shook me. The world spun a moment, then came back to me. "You don't cry." He roughly threw me, and I hit the ground hard, gasping in pain. "And you... you never scream..." a sadistic fire was lit in his eyes, and I knew this was my cue to leave.

"Yeah." I simply answered, to see if I could still move my sore jaw more than actually reply. I slowly moved to walk away, and I was about to make a ninja jump for the door when he grabbed me from my collar, pulling me back. I fell again, feeling my chest burning. "Let me go, un." I warned.

"Or you'll do what?" he laughed. "You really look threatening, really." He looked down at me, kicking me square in the ribs. I coughed and gasped, not expecting that. I suddenly tensed and steeled myself on reflex, knowing that many more could follow on a moment's notice. We're talking ninjas here, after all.

"Look, go pick on someone else, un." I growled. "I've got better things to do."

"Like what, sculpt those stupid clay birds of yours?" he laughed sarcastically. From around me, I could hear some hushed whispers coming from the crowd of students in the cafeteria.

"They're not stupid, they're art, un!" I all but screamed at him, getting up and glaring murderously at him. Of course, I couldn't help it. It's a natural reaction for me to protect the only thing I love. I can't help it, or the consequences that follow.

"Clay sculptures? Art? Some joke!" he laughed, kicking me again. I grunted, feeling the wall smash into my back... or maybe it's the other way around, I couldn't tell, because somewhere, something was hurting, and it was killing me. I felt like crying.

"They're not, un!" I protested stubbornly. My art wasn't a joke! It was my saviour, my escape, something that I could rely on, a light in the dark! I wouldn't tolerate anyone belittling it!

"Joke..." I faded in and out of darkness as I felt something hitting me again. "Yeah right... Art... Joke... Not even... Failure... Joke..."

I tried really hard not to keep my tears from spilling, because each word said cut through me like a knife, never mind the fact that I was getting beaten up.


I shook my head the best I could, trying to block out the laughter in my ears.


No... No! No!


"IT'S NOT A JOKE!" I finally cracked, bringing my right hand up to my left and ripping the bandages off of it, showing my palm. There was a horrified gasp as the usually flat skin deformed, and out of nowhere came...

"A mouth...?" the bully gaped.

"Don't come closer, un..." I sobbed, desperately holding my cursed palm up to his face, seemingly being the only thing that kept him from hitting me again.

"I hadn't seen that for a while." His shocked expression melted into a mean grin, and he leaned on one leg, glaring down at me. "Freak."

"STOP!" my last string broke, and I fell, yet again, in the deep pits of darkness.

In the real word, I suddenly pushed the bully away, letting my hand tongue lick him for a second, halfway enjoying his disgusted expression, before he moved away on his own, letting me run off through the corridor that was quickly forming itself in front of me, the students moving to the sides as they saw me incoming, a panting mouth on my left palm.


Tears fell as I ran, wondering why everyone liked hurting me so much. Why me? I understand, they haven't seen mouths on anyone's hands before...


And I respect that, because I was kind of freaked out too the day I learned I had these things on my hands.


But was I to blame? I couldn't help it! I was supposedly the cursed member of our clan, the first member with our kekkei genkai to have appeared in the last two-hundred years This mark, this bloodline limit, this CURSE... It was the source of all my endless suffering...


Freak... That's what I was. And that's why I'd never be accepted. Not by any Iwa-nin, or any shinobis from any other village. It didn't matter what I did, I'd never be able to reach my full potential, all because of these cursed things.

Releasing the bottled sobs in my throat, I violently pushed the door, running outside, hearing the snickers and whispers in the cafeteria.

I quickly ran to the art room, and picked a lock right next to the door. When it came open, I walked into the darkness inside and closed it behind me. There, I sat down between the art supplies and sighed, pulling my knees up to my face, and finally letting loose all the emotions I had bottled up inside.

"Why...?" I sobbed.

As if to respond, my left hand's mouth started tearing at my right's bandages, seeing as I was holding them together. To help it, I tore off the bandages, revealing a second mouth on my right hand. The two of them smiled, finally free.

"I don't get what's wrong, un..." I sighed. "I've seen many weird people before... People who can transform into bats, people with fins, people with powers everyone feared and didn't respect... So why can't anyone accept me with MY kekkei genkai, un?" I shuddered, talking to the mouths on my hands.

They did not respond, of course, and instead licked my palms. Sighing, I grabbed some white clay from a box right next to me. My right hand's mouth immediately started eating, and I put my other hand over the ball of clay so that it could eat too. I'm not sure if they could ever starve, but it made me feel better when I fed them clay. Of course, outside of battles.

When all the clay was gone, I separated my hands as they chewed on the clay. Slowly, they opened, letting me see a ball of chewed clay. I took the clay from both sides and started playing with it. From outside, I heard the bell ring, announcing the end of lunch and the start of classes, but didn't care. I wasn't going back to class today.

Instead, I got absorbed in my work, my fingers slowly shaping the clay as my tongues helped by smoothing the surfaces. Slowly, my work of art came into shape, and finally gave a bird. I smiled, and gently threw it into the air.

A normal clay bird would have crashed back down and broke into pieces. But my clay was far from normal.

The clay bird suddenly opened its wings, flapping them to keep in the air. I smiled, proud at my work, admiring the fine details put into the clay bird.

The bird lifted up in the narrow storage room, until the top. When I felt it was far enough to avoid damage, I slowly lifted my hands together. On reflex, without my accord, my palm-mouths closed, leaving only a fold of skin in their place before I put my left fingers on my right palm, folding my right pinkie on my folded left pinkie. Crossing my thumbs over each other, I completed the 'ram' hand sign and smiled.


There was a small exploding noise as the clay bird exploded, small pieces of hardened clay falling down atop my head. I put my hands out, feeling the clay falling onto my palms, some of the sharper pieces scratching my palms and drawing blood. But I didn't feel any of it, except the ecstasy of the moment.

This... This rain of white clay pieces, remnants of my creation, this fleeting moment of beauty...

This was art.


I had later on fallen asleep in the storage room, surrounded by the clay I loved so much. After, what fun is it to be locked in an art storage room if I was going to simply look? Of course, I made new artworks, and blew them up gently, making sure not to insert too much chakra in them so that they wouldn't produce explosions like the ones I made on the battlefield.

Got that right. This is my way of fighting. Explosions. After all, art is a blast.

I'd woken up on the bell that announced that the school doors were about to close. Stretching and yawning, I picked myself up and looked around for something to cover my hands with. Unfortunately not finding anything, I sighed and decided to run home, hopefully avoiding any other encounters. Besides, the doors would be locked soon, and the last thing I wanted was to spend the night in school.

Slowly, I opened the door to the storage room, peeking outside. Once I made sure no one was waiting outside to hit me or something, I walked out, blinking rapidly to get used to the bright lights of the art hallway.

Once I rubbed my eyes a couple of times, I broke into a run, balling my hands into fists, almost crushing my mouths. I simply ran as fast as I could, eager to get home.

I made it out just as the principal was closing the main gate. He threw a disgusted/disapproving look, but I ignored it and ran out to the streets.

It was already getting a little dark, as the sun set early here in Iwa. I took a deep breath and jumped on a nearby roof, proceeding in going home, shinobi style.

Hopefully, I wasn't TOO late...


I slowly cracked the door open, only seeing a dim light in the kitchen, and voices coming from it. I cringed, trying to make the least noise possible as I came inside, closing the door with a squeak after me. I slowly removed my shoes and took them in my hands as I made a move to go up to my room. Unfortunately, to get to the staircase, I had to pass by the kitchen entrance.

Crossing my fingers, really hoping he wouldn't see me, I tip-toed towards the staircase. I had almost put my foot on the first step when the laughing voices stopped and a slurred voice called out.

"Hey brat! W-Where you gettin' off to? C'mere, I-I got somethin' to say ta you."


Growling lightly, I put my shoes and schoolbag down, taking a deep breath and turning around, walking into the kitchen.

I immediately spotted a table, full of cards, money, poker chips and...

Dear gods, the beer. The alcohol smelled absolutely disgusting as I got closer to the table where my caretaker and five of his friends were playing poker.

"Why you late?" my supposed-caretaker glared at me.

"School, un." I simply answered, looking down from his bloodshot eyes. I swear, someday, that alcohol will kill him. I don't know if I'll be happy or sad when that happens.

"Yeh, but you're an hour late. The hell were you doing there?" he asked again, his breath, smelling like alcohol, and alcohol only, blowing on my face. I had to muster up everything I had to keep myself from gagging.

"I-I fell asleep in the art storage room and lost track of time, un." I muttered, steeling myself and closing my eyes.


The world seemed to slow down as something roughly hit my face, making me stumble and fall on all four, spit mixed with a little blood dripping on the ground as I panted for breath.

Again. Yet again. And again, and again and again. Every time, it'd be the same. I'm surprised I didn't move faster than that.

Or maybe if I moved faster, he'd kill me for it, considering he's a freakin special Jounin and I'm a newly-made Genin.

"Why do you always fall asleep at school?" he asked, getting up and glaring down at me. "Especially in the art room!" he kicked me in the ribcage, making me cough and choke. "It's the goddamn third time this week!"

"I-I'm sorry, un..." I gasped for breath as another kick cut me short.

"And that stupid speech impediment!" he growled in frustration, kicking me again, harder. I felt tears coursing down my cheeks as I felt something crack in my chest. Unimaginable pain coursed through me as I hung my head.

"It's not my fault, un!" I sobbed in a low voice. "I can't help it..."

"And you DARE reply to me?" if anything, he looked like an angry drunk to me. Like always, as usual. He probably didn't even know why he was hitting me. Typical.

"I-I didn't mean it, un!" I sniffled.

"And you're just acting like a cry baby! Find something else to do, you little freak!" he bent down and picked me up, throwing me against the wall.

I hit my heart against it, seeing black dots dancing around for a moment before I clearly saw him getting closer. I confirmed that hypothesis when I felt a sideways kick on my arm, hurting a bruise that was already there.

"I'm sick and tired of you!" he suddenly screamed, a kunai from his pouch suddenly making its way into his hands. My eyes widened. He really WAS going to kill me tonight.

One part of me was happy, happy that I was leaving this world of suffering behind, and going somewhere where I could not be hurt anymore.

But another part of me was sad, sad that I could not achieve my goal. Sad that I could not show everyone that I could be a splendid shinobi, no matter how much of a freak of nature I supposedly was.

I think the sad part of me reacted quicker, because I raised both my arms above my head to shield myself as the kunai swung.

It was my luck because he was drunk and could barely get his target right. The kunai grazed my arm, slashing a moderate-sized wound in it.

"Please, stop, un!"

He must have realized that because he tried again, only to get my left arm.

"I'm sorry, un!"

A couple of times more, he tried, but always missed, to my glee.


In the end, I only ended up with a couple of bleeding, burning slashes over my forearms.

He was about to try again, raising his kunai over my head. I raised my bleeding arms higher, whimpering in a low voice, the tears not having stopped since they started.

"Alright, dude, leave the kid alone and get back to the game."

"Yeah, huh, it's your turn."

"Yeah, we don't got all night."

"My wife will kill me if she learns I was here... again."

The source of my pain looked down at me, throwing me a disgusted look before bending down and grabbing me by my wrist, dragging me to the poker table.

"I ran out of money, so this round, I bet him."

My eyes widened in horror as I realized what was happening.

Not again.

Not. Goddamn. Again.

"He does all your work for you and never complains. If he does, you whack him over the head a couple of times and he shuts up."

A bargaining chip. A poker prize. A gambling item.

That's all I was.


That's not what I wanted to be.

I did not want this to happen again.

All my past caretakers have done the same. Either died, abandoned me on the streets, or sold me off in some gambling game.

I would not take this anymore.

"NO!" I screamed, roughly pulling my arm out of that hated man's grasp. "I'M NOT GOING TO BE USED AS A GAMBLING CHIP! NOT AGAIN! NOT ANYMORE!" I screamed, outraged. I couldn't hold it back anymore. Hell was to come, but at least I felt lighter.

Or maybe it's just the blood loss.

There was an uncomfortable silence where all that was heard were my sobs and sniffles.

The man suddenly grabbed my arm again, glaring hatefully at me.

"If that's the way you want it, fine!" he turned around on his chair. "If you think you can talk to me that way and get away with it, you're wrong!" he suddenly shoved me, making me stumble and fall on the ground. A second later, I registered a huge impact and a sickening crack on my right ankle.

I screamed.

Or maybe screamed is too soft of a word. Ah, I've got an appropriate expression for you.

I fucking yelled bloody murder.


I couldn't even reply. The pain... It hurt too much to even speak. I could feel my broken ankle bones gritting against each other. It hurt... It hurt so much. More tears spilled out of my eyes, innocent eyes that didn't understand what was going on.


With that, he grabbed me by now now-bloody hoodie and threw me outside of the kitchen.

Goddamn special Jounins and their goddamn strength...

I stayed in a crumpled heap for a while until my sobs subsided. Blood was pooling around me by now, drenching my black hoodie in red.

I finally decided to move. Since my room was up in the attic, and I'd probably faint before getting there. If I stood here and fainted here, I'd probably be kicked awake when that man saw me, and that didn't sound very thrilling. The only option left was outside.

It COULD rain, and I COULD get sick, or something, but, right now, outside sounded much better than anywhere else.

I shuddered, pushing myself up, trying to ignore the excruciating pain in my ankle. Putting all my weight on my left side, I held the wall for support and limped to the bathroom.

There, I spotted a blood-stained first-aid kit and opened it. Thankfully, there were still bandages inside. I sat down on the closed toilet lid, taking some time to wrap my arms in bandages, up to the elbows, effectively hiding both my mouths and cuts. Then, I pulled my bloody sleeves down to cover everything until my wrists.

Done with that, I limped out of the bathroom, and towards the front door. Not caring if I made any noise at all, I opened the door, panting and leaning heavily on it. I stepped outside, feeling the cool air brushing my bruised cheeks. I closed the door behind me, immediately losing my hold and falling to the ground.

I crawled down the three stairs that led up to the house, and once I was on the grass, my strength left me, and I noiselessly fell down on my left side, silent tears dripping off my visible right cheek, the other hidden by my messy fringe.

I stayed there for a while until the sky felt it was his duty to cry for me too. Slowly, more water dripped off my cheeks, more and more until it was a full downpour. At least no one would realize I was crying now.

Not that anyone would care.

I stayed immobile for what seemed like an eternity. The rain was beginning to soften up, and I could see the moon shining through the clouds. Must be around midnight.

I was gazing at the moon when I suddenly heard footsteps coming towards me. Figuring it was just a random passerby, I kept watching the moon out from the corner of my puffy right eye.

But the footsteps stopped, and whispering replaced it. I wonder, was it my caretaker's friends, who were leaving? Or maybe it was him. Watching me, laughing at my pathetic curled-up form. Deciding whether he should just kick me again, just for thrills.

A shadow suddenly blocked my view of the moon. It was looming above me, red eyes looking down at me. Unknown fear was inspired by those red eyes, and my clouded blue eye widened in fear.

It was him. He came to hit me again.

On reflex, I whimper and somehow raised my drained arms as he bent down.

"You Deidara?"

But... this wasn't my caretaker's slurred, drunken voice.

This was someone else. A gentler, yet emotionless voice.

From under my arms, I looked at the newcomer, who was looking down at me with emotionless red eyes.

"Answer me."

"Y-Yes S-Sir, un! I'm D-Deidara, S-Sir!" I stammered, scared.

"Itachi-san, you're scaring him."

My single eye slowly drifted to the other person here. If it could widen further, it would.

I was met with a man with blue hair that defied gravity, if you asked me. A sword wrapped in bandages hung on his back. But what surprised me was his light blue skin. In the moonlight, and through the now-soft rain, I could see shark teeth, small eyes and gills on the sides of his bluish face.

"Hush Kisame, and check his description." The black haired boy ordered.

"He looks a little young to me." The blue haired man nodded. "But he did say he was Deidara..."

"How old are you, kid?" Itachi asked me.

"E-Eleven." I choked up, wondering why these men were interested in me. Actually, they were showing more interest in me than anyone else had done ever before, and we just met five minutes ago.

"Ah, well that fits it." Kisame nodded. "He looked eight to me."

"Alright, well, this looks pretty much like the kid we're looking for." Itachi nodded.

"Leader-sama never told us he's THIS young." The shark-nin muttered.

"It's his orders, now stop complaining, and help me." The raven-haired boy rolled his red eyes.

The shark-like man kneeled next to me, looking at me intently.

"You look beat up. What happened to you?"

On reflex, I gulped down and with a scratched voice answered him.

"I fell down the stairs and broke my ankle, un."

The two men didn't seem very convinced but both shrugged.

"That explains the wounds. But why're you out here?" Itachi asked out of curiosity.

"There was no one home, so I figured I could ask a passerby for help, un." I muttered. Lying came naturally to me, after eleven years of constantly having to do it.

"Ah." Was the simultaneous response from the two men. I hoped they didn't notice the lit lights in the kitchen, but knowing they were shinobis, and obviously skilled shinobis, they'd probably noticed that a long time ago.

"Can I ask something, un?" I suddenly asked.

"Shoot." The shark-nin nodded.

"Who are you...? And what do you want with me, un...?" I choked out in a cracked voice.

"We're from Akatsuki." The dark-haired boy informed me.

"Akatsuki..." I'd heard that somewhere.

"A band of S-class missing-nin. We gather from all around the country in one band, one group of ten criminals, and fulfill missions to help us reach for our goal." Itachi explained.

Goal... Reach their goal... It seems everyone here could reach their goal, except me.

But maybe, just maybe, they could help me achieve mine...

"And Leader-sama told us you were our newest recruit, and wants you to join us." Kisame finished.

"Join you?" my eyes widened in surprise.

"As a part of our group of S-class missing-nin."

"W-Why?" I asked, even though I was pretty sure I'd take their offer up. I mean, stay here and get beaten for doing nothing, or follow these strangers and get a shot at life? Obviously the second option.

"You apparently have skills coveted by the Leader of our group. If you come with us, you'll be clothed, fed, and taken care of. You'll be surrounded by people who know how you feel, and..." Itachi looked down at my ankle with a cynical smirk. "'ll never fall down any more stairs. Sounds good to you?"

I gulped down and nodded.

"Yeah... I accept, un." I nodded weakly.

"Good." Itachi turned to Kisame. "We're leaving."

"Y-You're not gonna inform anyone, un?" I asked, eyes wide.

"Nope. If you always fall down stairs and no one's home to take care of you, then why should I inform anyone? And plus." He looked towards the lit lights in the house. "I thought you said no one was home."

"Y-Yeah, un..." I looked back once more before Itachi bent down and gingerly picked me up. I winced and made a small whine as my ankle ached.

He shifted me around so that my ankle was lying outside, keeping it from touching anything.

"When we get back to the base, Kakuzu will take care of that for you."

"T-Thank you, un... Kisame-san..." I gulped down. "A-and... Itachi-san." I looked up at the still-emotionless boy who was carrying me.

"Hm." The older boy muttered, taking a leap on a tree branch. Kisame followed without any problem.

"Yeah, you're one of us now, Deidara-chan." The shark-nin smiled at me.

I didn't know what to say. That's the first time my heart welled up in joy, and I couldn't help the tears of happiness that ran down my cheeks, quickly dried by the whooshing wind of the night as we soared through the trees, towards the Akatsuki hideout.

Akatsuki... The first group I've ever been part of. Even if I don't know everyone in it, I have a feeling that this is where I'll find who I am. This is where I belong. This is where I can be free of any pain. This is where I can fulfill my long-crushed dreams, and where I can find new hope.

The Akatsuki. My family. My friends. My dreams. My Escape.


Author's Notes:

Deidara's my favourite Naruto smexy. There's Gaara and Itachi too, but screw them, Deidara is the fcking hot smex ;O And I LOVE torturing smexeh blond fandom characters ;P

Also, you should know that it's a habit for me to finish my fics with the title.

I'm not saying this fic is finished, though. That's where you guys come in.


If it's a full-fledged fic, it'll probably go on the 8 years Deidara has been in the Akatsuki, until he's 19, and he and Sasori go on the "Kill-Gaara-and-get-the-fcking-Shukaku" arc mission thing. It'll describe missions, events and bonding between Deidara and the members of Akatsuki. And lots of random Tobi appearances. Cause Tobi's annoyingly hilarious.

Anyways, thank you guys for reading, and I'd love your feedback on this. Please? :3