Strings of Detonation

Restless Fire

The hideout was quiet—too quiet.

The storm had broken hours ago, leaving behind a heavy stillness that pressed against the walls like packed snow. The only sound was the soft, distant drip of water and the faint rustle of fabric as Deidara rolled over for what had to be the hundredth time.

His mat creaked beneath him. He shoved his hair out of his face, then pulled it back down again. He tugged his cloak tighter, then kicked it off with a frustrated huff. Nothing helped.

Sleep refused to come.

He lay flat, eyes open to the darkness above, and the spiral began again.

'(Why him? Why do I care? He’s just my partner, just another Akatsuki. That’s all. Should be all. Should be simple, yeah.)'

He pressed his palms over his eyes, groaning into the quiet. But the thoughts only tightened their grip.

'(So why do I keep chasing cracks in his walls? Why do I want him to look at me, really look, instead of staring past like I’m another tool on his table? Why does it burn when he doesn’t?)'

His chest felt tight, his mind racing faster than any clay bird ever had. He rolled onto his side, curling an arm beneath his head, restless energy coiling through him.

Explosions used to quiet him. The rush, the flash, the way the world shattered for a heartbeat—it always drowned out the noise inside. But here, in this stone cocoon, there was no fire, no light, no distraction. Only silence. And Sasori.

Always Sasori.

Deidara shut his eyes, but all he saw was amber cutting through dim light, that brief flicker of softness when Sasori had looked at him earlier. It seared through his thoughts, tangled them worse, left him clutching at questions with no answers.

His leg twitched. He turned again, back pressed to the wall, and muttered under his breath. “Tch… this is ridiculous, yeah.”

The words barely left his lips when another voice broke the dark.

“You’re making more noise than the storm outside.”

Deidara froze, eyes snapping open. Across the room, Sasori sat in the same place as before, back straight, tools already cleaned and stowed. His gaze glinted faintly in the shadows, fixed on Deidara with unnerving stillness.

A smirk tried to crawl onto Deidara’s lips, automatic, a shield. “Hn. Didn’t think you noticed, Danna. Thought you were too busy bein’ perfect as always.”

It came out strained, thinner than he liked.

Sasori didn’t move. “I notice everything.” His voice was flat, but edged, carrying something beneath the words. “Including the fact that you haven’t closed your eyes once.”

Deidara huffed, rolling onto his back again, staring at the ceiling as if it might swallow him whole. “Can’t a guy think in peace, yeah?”

“Not when it costs us efficiency.” The reply was immediate, sharp as the blades Sasori polished. “If you drag yourself into tomorrow half-awake, you’ll drag me down with you. I won’t tolerate that.”

The words stung, more than Deidara wanted to admit. He barked a laugh, dry and humorless. “Tch. You wouldn’t let me, Danna. You’d pull the strings tighter, yeah, keep me in line. Isn’t that what you do best?”

Silence followed, heavier than before.

Deidara shut his mouth, biting back the next words. He’d meant it as a jab, but it came out too raw, too close to the spiral gnawing at him. His throat felt tight.

Across the room, Sasori’s gaze lingered in the dark. The seconds stretched, brittle. Then, at last, he spoke, quieter than before.

“Sleep.”

One word. A command, clipped, final.

Deidara almost laughed again, almost pushed, but exhaustion tugged too hard at his edges. He let his arm flop across his eyes, sighing into the dark. “Yeah, yeah…”

But sleep didn’t come. Not really. He lay awake long after, thoughts circling like vultures. Every breath felt too loud, every shift of fabric a reminder that he was restless, trapped in his own fire.

And though Sasori didn’t speak again, Deidara could feel his gaze linger, steady and unyielding, from across the room.

The silence pressed in, but this time, it wasn’t empty. It was filled with weight, with watching, with something unspoken that burned hotter than any explosion.

Deidara clenched his eyes shut, pretending it was enough.

But deep down, he knew tomorrow would demand more than he had to give.