Take Me Away || itadei

Chapter 18: tsukuyomi

Perhaps the rattling of the wooden puppet which trapped him had bothered him out of his mind. The damned thing was sealed too well and the chakra restrictions placed upon him made his escape all the more difficult. Not only did the bumpy ride frustrate him but the red-headed puppet master gave up almost all of his fighting spirit. Where had his eagerness for bloodshed and pursuit for eternal life gone? Because he was defeated by a mere kunoichi? Deidara tsked, gritting his teeth like a feral beast in his confinement. If only he could see where they were headed. If only Sasori hadn't given up without a fight. If only he was still alive–!

But then... But what then?

What was he to do once he escaped from the clutches of his enemies? Fight in a war that he helped cause, for all it's worth he was long dead before he knew of a war being waged against the united five Kages? Hah! How laughable. Leave a dead man be, was what he bitterly thought. He struggled against his restraints, trying all that he knew to break out of the chakra-induced rope blocking his chakra passage. He had been humiliated enough when he was breathing, he never wanted to face degradation as a dead man too!

Deidara roared. His anger, grief and a sense of betrayal was all he clung onto in this... disgraceful form. "Kabuto, you snake!" he growled between his gritted teeth. Despite the hatred rebuilding in his gut, Deidara had already made peace with himself in his final moments facing the Uchiha bastard. Although it was an unfair trade, he was prepared to die if it meant destroying the arrogant boy and ripping his pride from him. He was supposed to be dead! In the end, his sacrifice meant nothing. It was all in vain, for his revenge was never fated to be realised. Why did all his problems have to revolve around the Uchihas!

Deidara grunted in resignation. Heavy footsteps outside hurriedly making their way to some place was all that informed him they were headed towards the rear-guard. The lessening screams and yells were enough proof for him to know his way around in a sightless situation.

In his confinement, Deidara allowed his mind to wander aimlessly. He had no real objective now. He could only ponder in the safety of his own mind, this body used for his resurrection, who it belonged to. Who was sacrificed to be used to house a lost soul such as him. Perhaps, even within his own mindscape, he was not safe. He was no longer human, after all. Could he possess such a human thing such as memories and thoughts, he wondered. But of course, if he could question, he did indeed possess the right to recall his life as a rogue shinobi. The life that he once lived was long gone. And he couldn't even blame anyone but himself for such useless, childish thoughts that invaded his mind as he remained silent, obedient, resigned. So, as he waited with frustration and a boiling temper ready to disperse, if only the brief moments he experienced and felt in this short second life, he remembered.

His eyes widened as he took in his surroundings. The usual base was no more. All that was left was a honeycomb-like cave with various openings leading into the cave. He observed his clothing and body; the Akatsuki cloak was no more but burgundy rags to hide the hideous form that he now possessed. His skin was cracked like porcelain, he dared not wonder what his face looked like.

Before him, standing to the side of who he recognised as Tobi, was another man who reeked of serpentine also cloaked in burgundy rags without the Akatsuki crest. Orochimaru, was his immediate thought as he frowned, his expression darkening. But, the aura and scent the cloaked man emitted was not from the infamous snake-man; the usual coldness, fear and anger that erupted within him in the freak's presence was not present. No, of course not. There was only one other man who had a freakish vibe that always accompanied Orochimaru wherever he went. However, it wasn't the cloaked man that caught his attention - it was Tobi. His new mask, from the bright orange swirl like a pumpkin to a pure white mask with layers of black circles centring the one eye that was visible, made him tremble. No, he thought, clenching his fists as realisation dawned on him like a bucketful of frozen water was poured onto him. Slowly.