Thanks so much for all the awesome reviews. That makes me so happy. And sorry it took me so long to write this. I've been busy lately. I have SATs on the 26th so the next chapter won't be out until after then.
Sasori Akasuna had graduated a few years ago from the Sunakaga Art Institute. Ever since he was a little boy and his grandmother taught him how to make puppets, he had been obsessed with art. As a teenager, he would create wooden sculptures that he entered in many contests and art shows to try to get his name public. He even had a few pieces in local museums. Having his art be admired by millions for ages to come was all he ever wanted.
So why was he an art teacher at a shitty high school? Because although he had some popularity from when he was a teenager, he wasn't very famous yet. He needed to be able to make money for that. Supplies was very expensive. He wasn't exactly thrilled with the idea of having to teach bratty teenagers about art when they all clearly didn't give a fuck, but it was what paid his bills.
After a day of dealing with so many annoying students, Sasori was sitting in the teacher's lounge, completely collapsed in a chair from so much mental exhaustion. It took a lot of energy to look completely emotionless.
"If that's how you feel on your first day, you'll be dead by the end of the year," he heard someone say.
He lifted up his head and saw Kakuzu. He had no idea what the math teacher's real name was. The man didn't like his name so he wouldn't tell anyone. He just told everyone to call him by his last name.
"That's easy for you to say. This is your fourth year teaching," Sasori grumbled, "You're used to them by now."
"They never get any easier," Kakuzu sighed as he sat next to Sasori, "They're all so annoying. I'm at least glad this is the last year of my worst student. He's been annoying me ever since he was a sophomore. He's very loud and completely insane. Every day that I come home with a headache, it is because of him."
Sasori nodded, "I have a feeling I may have a student like that this year. There's this blonde boy in my last class who has a completely messed up idea of art. He actually believes art is fleeting and demonstrates this by making clay bombs."
Kakuzu chuckled, "I know exactly who you mean. Deidara Iwa, right? One of his creations went off during class the first day I had him. I was really pissed off. The school was going to expel him, but the old art teacher backed him up. He's not that bad of a kid. The only big downside is that my biggest headache causer is his best friend."
Sasori took a sip of his coffee, "Maybe they will start plotting against us."
"I don't think we need to worry. Hidan isn't too smart," Kakuzu said.
Kakuzu stood up from the table and grabbed his brief case.
"I have to go," he said, "Make sure you get a lot of rest tonight. Tomorrow is going to be the same as today."
That thought was pure torture to Sasori. He had to put up with this for 180 days. Kakuzu left the room, leaving the art teacher to suffer by himself.
Deidara sat in his bedroom. The walls and the bed sheets were both a pale blue. The blanket on top of it was a navy blue. The rest of the furniture besides his bed was a small black desk and a bigger table specifically for his art.
All Deidara's thoughts for the last two hours had been about Mr. Akasuna's words. Of course Deidara had heard his art be ridiculed over a thousand times. This time it bothered him more than usual. Maybe it was because this opinion came from an actual art teacher, someone who seemed to have a lot of respect for the craft. It wasn't just someone like the principal telling him his creations were 'dangerous and idiotic'. This was someone who studied art in college, who wanted to dedicate their life to art. Sure Deidara hadn't seen any of the teacher's work yet, but the blonde could evaluate the older man's experience by the way he spoke about the subject. He appreciated art's beauty and wanted other's to be able to see it for generations too. Deidara, while he didn't agree with that philosophy, could understand the value of the man's beliefs. Mr. Akasuna on the other hand was arrogant and closed-minded. He refused to accept Deidara. The teenager knew he shouldn't care, but it still hurt him.
"Stop looking so fucking depressed," Hidan said. He was sitting on the floor next to Deidara's bed playing a video game. Like everything associated with Hidan, the game contained a lot of violence and blood. Deidara felt sick whenever he accidentally caught a glimpse of the screen.
"I can't help it, hmmm," Deidara sighed, "I've never felt this offended before."
"My day sucked too, ya know," Hidan said, "That bastard math teacher was glaring at me the entire class period."
"Did you actually do anything to upset him?" Deidara asked.
"Well I may have thrown a few paper airplanes at the back of Sakura's head, but that's only because I was feed up with listening to her try and answer every question just to prove how smart she thinks she is."
Deidara laughed, "She's such a bitch, hm. But you didn't really need to do that. Usually when you want to punish someone, you're more discreet. I think you like getting all that attention from Mr. Kakuzu."
The albino rolled his eyes, "That so stupid. Why would I even want to do that?"
"Maybe because you're secretly in love with him and want to have his babies," Deidara joked.
Hidan's faced turned bright red from both embarrassment and anger, "What the fuck, man? How could you even say something so gross? He's a creepy and scary man who has absolutely no personality, and is such a major dick. I hate him so much."
Deidara grinned, "See that, hmmm? You can't stop thinking about his 'major dick'."
Hidan hit Deidara, and the blonde fell onto the floor.
"Anyways, I'm not even gay so that makes no sense," Hidan said, feeling slightly better after hitting his best friend.
Deidara chuckled and sat next to Hidan.
"I think you'll survive," the artist said, "but I don't know what I'm going to do about that art teacher, hm."
"Why does he matter so much," Hidan asked.
"I guess it's just because he is also an artist. The only other true artist I ever talked to before is Miss K, and she actually liked my creations. This guy can't stand them."
"Don't be such a pussy," Hidan said, "You believe in your work and that's all that matters. You need to prove him wrong."
"I could try blowing up his desk, hmmm," Deidara said, "That could work."
"While that sounds like a fucking awesome idea, that might piss him off more," Hidan said, "Maybe you should try talking to him about art and shit like that. Maybe if he gets to know you he will be more accepting of your ideas."
Deidara shrugged, "He's a pretty cold bastard but I could try it."
Deidara stood up from the floor and walked over to his desk. He picked up the sculpture he was working on. He traced his fingers over the lines he had carved into it. He worked so hard to get every detail perfect. This work was all he had in life. It was what he cared about the most.
"There's no way I'm going to make that jerk stop me," Deidara said with a newfound determination.