Strings of Detonation

Strings Attached

The mission was supposed to be simple.
Too simple, Deidara thought, as they walked into the tiny border town under cover of night. Just grab intel, hand it off, disappear. No big fireworks, no grand finale. Boring.

Deidara sighed dramatically, stuffing his hands into his cloak. "Can't believe I signed up for recon. Where's the artistry in that, yeah?"

"Not everything needs to explode," Sasori replied, his voice as flat as the night air.

"Blasphemy," Deidara muttered.

Their contact waited in a tavern, a nervous-looking man with shifty eyes and a scroll tucked under his arm. He barely glanced at Sasori. But when his gaze landed on Deidara, it lingered a fraction too long.

"You're... younger than I expected," the man said, smiling awkwardly. "Talented, though. I've heard about your... explosive skills."

Deidara preened instantly, puffing his chest. "Heh, word gets around, yeah?"

Sasori didn't move, but the air changed. His puppet box creaked faintly at his back.

The handoff went smoothly-too smoothly. They were halfway out of town when the trap sprang. Shadows closed in from the rooftops, kunai glinting in the moonlight. The contact had vanished, scroll and all.

"Tch. Should've known," Deidara growled, clay already molding in his hands.

"Focus," Sasori snapped. His puppets burst forth, strings whipping as wood and steel came alive in the darkness.

The ambush was precise. Coordinated. They weren't dealing with random bounty hunters-they were trained. Deidara's bombs lit up the sky, shaking buildings, while Sasori's puppets carved paths through the chaos with cold efficiency.

But the numbers pressed hard. A blade grazed Deidara's cheek, too close. He cursed, stumbling back-only for threads to yank the attacker away, Sasori's puppet snapping its neck in a clean twist.

"Pay attention," Sasori hissed.

"I had it under control!" Deidara barked, though his pulse still hammered.

The fight dragged, messy and brutal. When it was finally over, the street was wrecked-scorched walls, shattered glass, bodies everywhere. Deidara stood in the middle of it, panting, blood dripping down his temple.

Sasori approached, silent as always. But his hand-strangely human-brushed across Deidara's face, wiping the blood away with a cloth. His touch was clinical, detached... yet careful.

Deidara blinked, caught off-guard. "Since when do you play nurse, yeah?"

Sasori pulled back immediately. "You're no use to me dead."

"Uh-huh," Deidara said, smirking despite the ache in his ribs. "Jealous back there? When that guy couldn't stop staring at me?"

Sasori's expression didn't change, but his threads snapped taut, retracting his puppets with sharp, precise movements. "Irrelevant."

Deidara chuckled, even as he limped toward the outskirts of town. "You're terrible at lying, Danna."

The silence that followed wasn't heavy. It was sharp-like the string of a bow drawn too tight.