undestined

They met on a mountain looking over Iwagakure, a spot bound to them by their past affairs. Kurotsuchi, the granddaughter of the Tsuchikage, and Deidara, the rogue shinobi known for betraying the Land of Earth. Kurotsuchi was the perfect prospect. She did as she was told, regrets growing more with each lonely night. It dawned on her each time she looked out the window at the stars that she would sneak out every night with him to see. It solidated the moment Onoki told her that any information about him was to be relayed directly to him. It made sense, really. Deidara was, of course, a former student of his. It was a fact she struggled to accept after his desertion.

It raised a question to her: Did no one forgive him because there was nothing to forgive, or because there was nothing worthy in him for forgiveness? In reality, she had no idea if he wanted her  forgiveness or if he even cared for it. He left without a word to her, without an explanation or an apology. Like all girls her age, it was hard to seal away her growing feelings for him. They were childhood friends, after all. Alas, he was oblivious to the accidental flirts and the light blush that dusted her cheeks when he got too close, as all boys were. Still, part of her longed for a reason; a reason why she still held such a deep affection for him; a reason why he decided to throw everything away. The village forbid her from inquiring; all information and mention of him were classified. They branded him a terrorist.

So, years passed with no word of him. She took the remaining feelings he had left behind and tucked them into a corner in her heart, hidden away from anyone to dared to peer into it. She convinced herself that she didn't miss him, that she didn't miss the pieces of her he took with him. That was; until familiar footsteps crunched the dirt behind her as she looked onto the village below. She could recognize him by all elements. If she were deaf, she could recognize the way his tender touch felt on her skin. If she were blind, she could recognize the sound of the leaves crunching beneath his feet.

She got up with her back facing towards him, "So, what took you so long?" She spoke with a coldness to her breath, like the sharp, frigid icicles of the dawning winter.

"I-" He started, interrupted by an embrace he failed to defend himself from. He could do nothing but wrap his arms around Kurotsuchi, finally feeling the shape of her frame against him. He recalled the old times he so desperately tried to erase. Deidara screws his mouth shut with a frown and exhales. "I'm sorry."

She looks up at him, with tears she didn't know she was forming, "No, you aren't."

And maybe he wasn't. Perhaps he genuinely didn't care about Kuro or what she thought of him, what she thought they were. No, that doesn't even sound right, he thinks. Deidara was a man of many talents, as he so proclaimed. Lying was not one of them. However, he knows what she wants, and he knows what he wants is not something she wants. Oh, want. Fuck you for damning this life of mine. There was no solution to this equation of want and reality. It's a tragedy-filled truth that takes a lifetime to digest. But, at that moment, all Deidara wanted was to hold her, to feel her embrace again as if nothing had ever happened, as if he never felt the remorse of abandoning her or the shame of betraying the village he was to hold dear to him.

Kurotsuchi runs her fingers over the sheen silk of his robe. She doesn't know whether she wants an answer to the question she held for the years after his departure or not. No, she doesn't want the reason. There was no going back. Deidara had dug himself too deep for her to help him to climb back out. It was bigger than the childhood pranks on the Tsuchikage, larger than the immature arguments they got themselves into in their youth. She's the Kage's granddaughter. What would they think if they found her with the village's most hated nin? His words would make no difference. She'd already forgiven him years ago.

Woe, Deidara was also a man of many regrets, despite his frantic defenses. Kurotsuchi had come to that conclusion the moment she looked at his eyes. He possessed eyes the color of the sea, whose water became contaminated by remorse and guilt every time she crossed his mind. For once in his lie, he wanted to do something that he wouldn't regret, and he did just that.

Deidara places his hand on her jawline, tender as if she were made of fine porcelain. Kurotsuchi watches him, eyes potent with the knowledge of their fate. She leans in anyways. Their lips meet with a sense of yearning and acceptance.

"Did you only come here to do that?" She asks.

"What if I did? Will you lock me up?"

"Of course, I can send you to hell; I can lock you away for life; I can make sure you never see the light of the sun again." She told the blonde. "But, damn you." Wiping the tears streaming down her face, "I love you." She knew she wasn't supposed to; love was supposed to be the last thing on her mind, much less loving a terrorist. But, if loving him made her a criminal, she'd take down the entire village if she could.

He couldn't stay for long. He had no interest in causing trouble in the village just yet. "I need to go, Kuro." And she knows; she knows that rumors will always grow with him around. She looks up at the sky while he sneaks a ball of clay into one of his hands.

"Take me with you one of these days, will you?

"Just after this battle, Kuro." He slips a clay ring onto her left ring finger. "I promise."

Deidara was also not a man of many promises. But, he did know that he loved everything about her, the way she pointed out the constellations and the way she laughed at his corny jokes. He loved her, and for that, he would keep his promise.

Just after this battle, just after this battle.