Akatsuki Rainbow: Red (Sasori x Deidara)

Chapter 6: A Nightmare Foretelling

Sasori sits upright abruptly. If he could have unconsciously screamed himself awake he would have. In his modernized body, he didn't really need sleep, since all physical aches and pains no longer existed. But he was still susceptible to fear and other emotions. Sasori rarely fears, yet early that morning before the sun awoke, he did. He feared more than ever before, not for himself, but for the form his lifeless eyes darted around trying to find. 

Deidara. 

All would be alright, Sasori thought. He's still here. Curled up in the same position as he lay down in a few hours ago. But in his vivid, lucid dream, Sasori saw it; his partner's demise. He saw Deidara blow up from the inside, attempting to take an unknown being with him. The unknown person appeared as a dark shadowy figure with a face clouded over. The world spared Deidara no mercy, as he destroyed himself yet still failed at killing the other person. 

Sasori had told him, warned him multiple times over that one day he'd blow himself up or something. But real life isn't like a dream right? Deidara hasn't told of any suicide jutsus. Sasori calmed with that thought. He got up and started checking Hiruko for damage. Maybe he should bring snacks too, since it'll be a bit of a long journey. The puppet master nodded to himself, wrapped himself in the over-sized cloak, and headed quietly to the kitchen. 

The kitchen is where he ran into Itachi, again. It seems as if their kitchen had some hidden dango in places unknown to others besides the Uchiha. Does that man ever sleep? Itachi was quietly making his way out of the kitchen when Sasori stopped in his steps. Itachi stopped right beside him. 

"Anything for an old friend. You look as if you just had a nightmare."

Sasori was silent for a moment, and then decided to ask the one question he needed confirmation for. Why Itachi was his audience should be his real question. But, even though he desperately tried to wrestle his emotions aside, he couldn't do it. He choked out his words, "Do you think.... that he...?"

Itachi looked over Sasori's form once without activating his sharingan and said, "More than you would ever know." 

Sasori nodded in acknowledgement, and Itachi knew it would be alright. 

"Farewell." He said, and Sasori nodded once more. 

Sasori grabbed his chips and headed back to pack his items inside Hiruko. How he could even eat was a wonder to the world. Once finished, he sat back on the bed and stared blankly across the room. He really couldn't understand why, but it truly felt as if it was the last time he would lay eyes on the one he loved most. He was afraid that once he looked away, Deidara would disappear. If he paid less attention for just a moment, the idiot would get into a fatal accident. When he thinks back to their past conversations, he realized exactly how inaccurate his statements were. Because in that moment in the silence of their shared room during the wee hours of early morning, asleep and curled up one side, Deidara was explosively beautiful. 

Today, his lifeless eyes would watch his sun rise. And in the quiet, silent, desert home of Sasori's, they would watch from their places in the sky and on the ground together the sunrise of their final moments together. The golden beams of the natural sun would reflect off the bright highlight of his own. The little speck of yellow on white would float peacefully above him as he munched on potato chips. The idiot would make a remark about art, the weather, or something semi-philosophic, and Sasori would scoff at the idea. 

What Deidara would scoff at was probably Sasori's private attack plan. Beyond the basic pattern of getting the tailed beast, Sasori knew his grandmother had probably left a source of defense in Suna, dead or not. If anything fails, that would be their biggest chance at losing. Deidara has never fought against a master puppeteer and won, so Sasori pledged within his own mind that if they were to start losing, he would draw away his grandmother's forces so that on Deidara's side, the fight would be even. Perhaps he had underestimated his partner, for they were not only partners, but equals. Sasori couldn't help but be paranoid. It was what kept him alive, after all. His decision, made without regard for efficiency, success, or power, could be considered art and a true symbol of what he himself would term as eternal beauty.