Til death and beyond

Fracture

Just as Kabuto had promised, Deidara was back again with Sasori right beside him. The blonde wasted no time in gloating over his victory.

"My man, how bold of you to die when you kept boasting about your art being eternal, hm. And to think it was all because of that weak spot in your chest which you never bothered to conceal..."

Sasori did not take kindly to the nagging.

"Deidara, do you want me to kill you?"

"I'm already dead, my man, and so are you."

"We've only been separated for a short time but you're still annoying as always."

"It's actually been quite a while, my man, and so much has happened, hm."

"I don't doubt it." The redhead warily shifted his gaze to Kabuto. "To be under the control of this wimp... the Akatsuki must have fallen quite badly."

"And yet you still don't admit that true art is found in a single flash of an explosion. Yours has clearly failed, hm."

"You have not won anything, Deidara. Even after I died, my puppets will remain beautiful until the end of time."

"Dusty and forgotten, you mean."

"My creations will endure the passage of time and be revered for it, something your childish mud explosions can never attain."

"Hoi, let's not forget who among us died first."

"Tch."

Sasori was still as irritable as always and he couldn't help but smirk. He had almost missed their bickering although he was a bit disappointed that the puppeteer would still not admit defeat, that his idea of eternal art didn't work compared to his ephemeral creations. Even after death that day wouldn't come, would it?

He turned his head, his breath suddenly got stuck in his chest as his eyes locked with someone. She was here.

Anjira.

She wore the same maroon cloak he did and her dark brown eyes looked even dreamier now with the black sclera.

She was holding some other guy's hand. He could only guess who this was.

Of course. It had always been like that, hasn't it? The moment she would die, she would crawl back to her first love. She never truly belonged to him.

She let his hand go, but nothing would soothe his rage now. After everything they had been through- how could she?!

"Long time no see, sweet heart." There was a hint of cruelty as she spoke those words, completely devoid of any affection and she glowered at him with such intensity he had never seen from her before, and the worst part of it all was that it still turned him on to see her mad.

But no allure could make him forgive her, because deep down he knew that part of why he blew himself up was because he thought she was gone. He had died for her and the first thing he sees after getting revived, he finds out that she already replaced him with someone else.

She didn't bother hiding her wrath either. She held a grudge against him for killing her and leaving their son behind, which was her own dumb fault for being near his explosions after he warned her.

And yet another revelation took him by surprise. Anjira didn't die when he attacked with his C4. Sasuke had lied to him. Of course, he should have known that Sharingan brat was just trying to get under his skin! Why did he believe him in the first place? Anjira saw him after he was mortally wounded and she could have come to his aid and-

No. He tried to get a grip of himself. It was unfortunate that Anjira had been in the blast but that was his ultimate art he was thinking about. It had been utter perfection and he would not regret it. His very self becoming one with his art, a once in a lifetime experience he could never forget. He would not let that moment be spoiled in his memory, not even for Anjira.