AN: This will be a short story for Christmas. It's inspired by a movie that was on the other night called 'Surviving Christmas.' It's SasorixDeidra but not until the end.

Reviews are as exciting as Christmas presents.


Empty. Bare. Sparse. These are all words that sprang to the mind of a young male, no older than twenty years of age. Alone. The male surveyed the room he was standing in with a new found criticism. His ocean blue eyes crinkling in disapproval. The male pushed his sun coloured hair away from his eye and grunted in annoyance as it fell straight back across his eye again. His showing eye looked at a large piece of art hanging on the wall with contempt. The name scribbled across the bottom of the spectacular art work read Deidara. Birds with detail down to every little feather, so real that they were almost flying out of the paper. The background was a blue almost matching his own eyes. The man scoffed and tore the painting off the wall. He didn't stop tearing until the paper rained down like the feathers off those precisely drawn birds. Deidara. That was his name, that was his artwork. And he hated it.

Deidara walked off, kicking the torn up artwork as he went. The young man walked across immaculate varnished floor boards. The room he was in was huge. Windows, from ceiling to floor showed the amazing view of a large city. The city lights all sparkled brightly, shining with hope and wonder. This sight held no awe for Deidara. He didn't even spare the view a second glance before he slammed the blinds down. Shutting out the lights. A deep red couch was facing the plastered wall. It was painted a deep grey and centered in the middle was a large plasma screen. Sitting on the floor, a cabinet holding various electrical items from a Sony ps3 to an old VCR player. Video games, DVD's and old video tapes were stacked up in rows upon rows on the floor. Towering up to Deidara's waist and some even higher. The rest of the room was bare. Deidara didn't know what he was meant to do with the space.

The living room had a set of two steps leading up to an impressive modern kitchen. Deidara rarely took one step up there. Most of the dishes had never been touched. He preferred to eat out, trying to find some consolation by been surrounded by people. It never worked. He found himself watching families intently. It was something that was a mystery to him. Yet, an ache, deep in his heart always rose whenever he watched these affectionate families. Deidara glanced around the living room, nothing of personal value showed itself. He shut off the lights with a soft click and walked into his bedroom. Once again it was almost empty. A king sized bed with black sheets strewn hazardously across it. White pillows were thrown across the room. Only two pillows remained on the bed. Deidara wouldn't change that. He only needed two. A bed side table held a lamp, alarm clock. a phone and an address book.

Deidara dropped himself onto the bed and reached over to the table, plucking the phone from it's cradle. After another second of grasping Deidara held the address book. He flipped it open and eyed the numbers written in it apprehensively. The first page was filled with what he could call friends. The rest were pages upon pages of contacts, buyers, agents and many more numbers that he would probably never glance at let alone use. Deidara pushed the buttons on the phone and held the phone to his ear as it rang dully.

"What? I'm fucking busy." Came the crude voice of a male as the phone was answered.

"Hello Hidan un." Deidara said lightly, trying to sound upbeat.

"Deidara, what do you fucking want?" Hidan asked with impatience.

"I was just thinking, you know because you and Kakuzu spend Christmas together with just you two..." Deidara trailed off before taking a deep breath and plowing on. "Can I spent Christmas with you guys un?"

"Look Deidara, we're not close enough for you to crash Christmas. Kakuzu and me don't really do anything anyway. It's not in my fucking religion. Sorry dude. Talk to you later, I gotta go." And with that, the phone went dead.

Deidara continued on, going through the numbers on the first page. Every outcome was the same. One last number sat at the bottom of the page. Deidara hesitated before calling the counted to six. Itachi would always pick up on the sixth call. The older man was eccentric like that.

"Hello Deidara." Itachi said tonelessly.

"Itachi un." Deidara forced his voice back into a cheerful tenor.

"Not tonight Deidara. Sasuke has a tournament." Itachi replied.

"I wasn't calling for sex un." Deidara frowned slightly.

"Then what do you want?" Itachi said in a cold tone.

"Nothing, it doesn't matter. Sorry for bothering you Itachi un." Deidara's voice remained cheerful. "Goodnight un."

Itachi had already hung up. Deidara grasped the phone in his hand tightly. He sat up and threw the phone at the far wall. It hit the wall and smashed, leaving a dent in the wall. Deidara fell back on the bed without a care. He hadn't spent a Christmas with a single person since he was sixteen, and even then the Christmas's prior to that weren't a pleasant experience. Deidara was nineteen now, and he was starting to feel the emptiness of his upbringing. Families everywhere were constantly passing him and they all seemed so god damn happy. Deidara just didn't understand. He felt tears burn in the back of his eyes. The tears never fell though. Deidara didn't seem to have the emotion to bring them forth. He opened the drawer of the table next to his bed and pulled out a bottle of pills. Prescription for insomnia. Deidara dry swallowed three at once and laid back down, waiting for sleep to take him.


Christmas was nearing and Deidara was looking at the prospect of spending it alone once again. He walked along the icy path as families pushed past him. Their arms full of presents and their faces all upturned in happy smiles. Deidara watched as a mother picked up her small son, placing a tender kiss on his rosy pink cheek. Deidara felt that familiar ache and he hurried past them. He was unsure of where he was going, only knowing that if he walked long enough. Something had to happen eventually. It was no wonder suicide spiked around Christmas. Deidara could feel self worth and doubt plaguing him. So caught up in his thoughts he collided head on with a young woman. Both of them slipped on the path and fell over. Deidara looked stunned before he blushed, though it was unnoticeable as his cheeks were stained pink from the cold already.

"Sorry un." Deidara apologised, pulling himself up before helping the young woman up. "Karin un?" Deidara asked, slightly surprised.

"Watch where you're going asswipe." Karin huffed and fixed her black rimmed glasses. "Where the fuck is my Christmas bonus? I work my ass for you, taking all your calls that you can't be fucked dealing with and do I get a bonus? No. But Suigetsu, that fucking slacker who you consider 'security' gets one." Karin ranted.

"I'll give you two thousand dollars right now if you let me have Christmas with you un." Deidara said, he found that his voice couldn't take on that cheerful tone again.

"Hell no. Christmas is stressful enough without having my Boss around." Karin hesitated and seeing Deidara's slightly crestfallen face. "But listen. I heard this somewhere, if you return to your childhood home and write on a piece of a paper all your grievances then light it on fire and ask for forgiveness or that you forgive someone."

"Burn away the regrets into ash un." Deidara said softly, thoughtfully. "Thanks Karin un." The blonde pulled out a cheque book from his messenger bag and scribbled on it quickly. "Merry Christmas un."

"Eh? Oh, thanks Deidara. I hope you find what you're looking for." The red haired woman then hurried off. Disappearing into the crowd.

"Me too un." Deidara whispered out into the cold air. His voice was lost amongst the happy chattering of people rushing around.

Deidara found himself, two hours later outside the house he spent his early childhood in. A small front lawn with a path running up the middle. It lead to four wooden steps and onto a front veranda. A swinging seat was placed at the end. The house was weatherboard but looked recently painted with a fresh coat of a creamy white. It was two stories and a large oak tree stood in the front yard, reaching up past the roof. Deidara walked up to the oak and placed his hand on it. He then crouched down and found a deep carving. A small bird with his initials on it. Deidara smiled with reminiscence. He stood up and pulled out a piece of a paper and quickly wrote across the paper with his sprawling handwriting. Deidara walked closer to the steps and pulled out a lighter. It's flame flared to life and Deidara held the paper under it. The paper began to smolder before going up in flame. Deidara never got to watch it turn to ash. A loud thump was the only thing he registered before falling unconsciousness.

Soft voices began to reach Deidara's ears and his eyes fluttered opened blearily. His head gave a painful twinge and he realised he was staring at a ceiling.

"Well, look at that. You didn't kill the weird bastard." A crackling females voice said in amusement.

"Quiet you old witch. Oi, kid. Wanna tell me why you were prying around our house with a lighter eh?" This time the voice was a mans. It was creaky with age.

"He might be brain dead." Another male voice, this time it was young but it didn't hold much life to it.

"You're ever so optimistic Gaara." The woman chuckled.

"I'm fine un." Deidara sat up and frowned slightly as the pain in his head thumped. He looked around. An elderly coupled stood close to him. The male stood closest, a snow shovel held firmly in one hand. Deidara winced, that would explain a lot. The old couple were covered in deep wrinkles but both their eyes shined with life and mischief. A young teenager, probably only thirteen sat on the steps with a bored expression. The teens hair was a deep red and his teal coloured eyes were ringed with black kohl.

"Well that's great to know. Now give me one good reason why I shouldn't knock you out again before burying you in the snow?"

"I just wanted to see my old home. I grew up here un." Deidara explained, watching the shovel wearily.

"And then burn it down?"

"What?" Deidara looked confused. "No. Could I...have a look around before I leave un?"

"Fine! Chiyo, you old hag. Give the boy a tour." The man cackled at his own comment before pointing the shovel at Deidara. "I'm watching you."

"Shut ya mouth Ebizou. You'll be visited by death before I am." Chiyo snapped back.

"Hn, it will be a miracle if you two ever die." Gaara muttered unhappily.

"You're not too old to get the belt you little shit. Just be grateful we took you in for the holidays. Would you rather be at your fathers?" Ebizou glared Gaara down who just turned his head away.

"Right well come on." Chiyo motioned at Deidara to hurry up.

Deidara looked around. They had brought him inside but only as far as the front door. The foyer was small and it had two open arches, the one on the left Deidara knew lead to the kitchen and conjoined dinning room. The one on the right would lead to the living room and stairs. Straight ahead would lead him to a bathroom, laundry and back door. Deidara chose to head into the living room. The wall was still painted the same pale yellow that he always despised. The furnishing was all different and Deidara wrinkled his noise as the old person smell. The carpet was still white but it looked like it had been replaced.

"It's just like I remember un." Deidara said softly.

"What? A shithole?" Gaara asked with a snort.

Deidara ignored the comment from the teen and headed up the stairs. Deidara went straight the room that used to be his. It was still a bedroom only it looked like Gaara was currently residing in the room, black clothes were covering the room along with an assortment of books, video games and various other things. The effect was rather like a small bomb had exploded. Deidara knew back thirteen years ago it was in a similar state. The walls were the blue that Deidara used to adore when he was younger. It was so pale it was almost white like clouds. The blonde didn't like it so much anymore. Pale colours faded to the background too easily. Went unnoticed. That's why he used such vibrant colours in his artwork. He was so close to not existing in anyone's minds that he couldn't risk his art fading away too.

"This used to be my room. It seems so small now un." Deidara turned around to look at the houses new occupants.

"Well it's getting late. My bones are starting to creak. Ebizou, show the boy out." Chiyo herded them down the steps before wandering off into the kitchen. Gaara stayed up stairs.

"You know, I didn't get to see everything. Could I maybe stay for a day or two? Or maybe for Christmas un?" Deidara asked with hopeful eyes. The blonde quickly found himself shoved out the door. Ebizou was incredibly strong and spry for his age. Deidara spun around only to find the wooden door with glass panes been slammed in his face. Deidara sighed and headed back down the steps. He would now have to return his unnecessarily large apartment. Another Christmas would be spent alone, without family memories. Deidara winced, the pain that flooded him was nearly unbearable. He took a deep breath and walked back up the steps. Knocking loudly on the door.

"You still here? What do you want now?" Ebizou opened the door a crack and peered out cautiously.

"I will give you two hundred grand if I can stay for Christmas un." Deidara said boldly, slightly desperately.

"Welcome home Grandson!" Ebizou whipped open the door widely and pulled Deidara in with an arm around the young blonde's shoulders.