Silk

IX

He could remember the burning pain, the slice of the knife down the soft flesh of his cheeks, the warmth of his blood cascading down his face to stain his clothes. He could only watch in apathetic horror, crying later when shock set in and the pain became something more, screaming into the night and only shutting up when he was threatened with that crimson-stained knife again, huddling in the corner of his room and staring with wide emerald eyes until that knife went away. His existence was one he couldn’t understand, but so long as he was quiet, that knife didn’t come out again. So long as he was quiet, no body saw him, no body even knew he was there. The first indication to him that he was special was when that knife whipped out toward him, and with a cry he fell back, panicking as the blade embedded into the wood where his head once was. The owner of that knife growled and yelled and fumed, but he didn’t see him where he lay. It was only after that knife vanished again that the boy realized his father should have been able to see him. The nine year old settled into the corner that had come so familiar to him now after the long nights of being cooped up here in the old attic.

The voices were drifting in and out, important information being taped with his little tape-recorder, silent as he listened to words that meant nothing to him, but they meant something to his father and the men his father held counsel with. This was the fifth night of being in the attic and the boy was scared. He was never seen, though, invisible so long as he remained still. Eventually, he had to move and his shifting sometimes brought someone to investigate. Lights often illuminated him to all eyes, but still, no one saw him. When the voices stopped, he switched the tape recorder off and hid it in his kimono, slipping away from his hiding spot and out of the attic. He was almost free. But then his foot missed the rung of the ladder and down he fell, a cry escaping as he hit the floor with a bone-breaking thud. The boy struggled up to his feet and ran, hearing sounds of pursuit behind him, the footfalls of much stronger men behind him. He had to hide, he had to get out, and he ran and ran and ran, hallways passing by at almost breathtaking speeds. He was panicking; he didn’t have a chance to escape. He turned down a hallway and slammed into the legs of a tall man and fell. He stared up, eyes wide in fear, but the man only grabbed him up and held him close, backing up against the wall. The boy’s pursuers darted by without so much as a glance their way. The boy stared wondrously at the crimson-eyed man, panted as his body finally began to relax.

“One so young shouldn’t be running through the halls at this time of night,” the crimson-eyed man whispered to him. He was mesmerized by the slowly spinning black dots in the man’s eyes and blinked when the man chuckled.

“You don’t live here, do you, little one?”

The boy shook his head numbly. The man held him gently and his eyes didn’t linger on his scars. His fingers curled in the man’s shirt and he gasped at the feel of a thick jacket beneath the man’s kimono.

“You’re a ninja,” the boy whispered. The man smiled, nodding, almost black strands of hair falling out of place on a headband the boy had never seen before.

“Do you like it?” the man asked, one hand reaching up to pull off the hitai-ate, offering it to the boy to hold. Again the boy nodded. “What’s your name?”

“Hanayo Seiichiro, shinobi-san.”

“My name is Uchiha Sasuke.” The man replied and then Sei could smell smoke and burning ozone, and then the fresh, early morning air. When had they gotten outside? Sei wondered. Sasuke took back his hitai-ate, tied it around his forehead and knelt in front of Sei.

“Sei, I don’t want to catch you here again, all right? I want you to stay far away.”

Sei’s eyes widened. “But Sasuke-san, if I don’t then… then it hurts.”

Sasuke’s eyes had narrowed, Sei noticed, and the shinobi pulled a button out of his kimono, the garment coming off as Sasuke stood, the button passed to the awed boy.

– Sasuke-san really IS a ninja! –

He had a flak jacket of the deepest black and dark clothes; even his sandals were black and wrapped in thick leather cord to keep them on his feet. His hair was kept out of his eyes mostly by the hitai-ate, but most of it had been gathered in a tail at the nape of his neck, trailing just between his shoulder blades. Sei felt self-conscious then, gaze and head dropping to hide his scarred face.

“Sei, promise me you won’t come back here. If you ever need me, just squeeze this, and I’ll come right away, all right?” Sasuke watched the boy nod and mumble an assent as he slipped the button into his kimono. Sasuke crouched again, hands on Sei’s shoulders. The boy refused to look at him and Sasuke figured he knew why. He had an idea then and tilted his head, standing up with a kunai in hand. Now Sei watched him, watched him slice the kunai through the material of his shirtsleeve at the elbow, the material pulled off. Sasuke crouched again, fingers beneath Sei’s chin, tilting the boy’s head up and then he pulled the material over the boy’s head, settling the elastic from the wrist band against Sei’s cheekbones, over his nose, the loose cloth tucked into the boy’s kimono collar.

Sei blinked, fingers moving to touch the cloth, staring up at the man with wide eyes once he realized the significance of the makeshift mask. His face was hidden and those horrible marks on his face were now invisible! He gazed up at Sasuke with a hidden smile, watching the man study him. Sasuke’s face softened and he set his palm on Sei’s head.

“Promise me you won’t come back here?”

Sei blinked. He reached up then and took Sasuke’s hand from his head and held it tight, squeezing in a mock handshake.

“I promise.”
---
Run, just run. Just get away from the idiot. Deidara just had to keep moving, running through the trees as fast as he could just to get away from Tobi. He hated the younger Akatsuki member, he hated him because he had stolen Sasori-danna’s ring, hated him because he had taken Sasori-danna’s place. Generally, he just hated Tobi. He also hated Sasori-danna for abandoning him to such a fate. He wished he could tell Sasori how he felt, beat the crap out of him in revenge or something. Alas, the most he could do was run from his stupid, lazy partner and rush to find a place to hide. He knew just the place too, considering he was stepping into the territory known as Suzaku no Kuni, though Deidara himself did not know it. When he arrived at the safe house, Deidara could only stand and stare at the destruction of the building, his eyes narrowing in annoyance. Now what?

He turned from the scene of destruction and started walking. He could hear Tobi somewhere in the distance, but he ignored the idiot. He was tempted to create some explosions just to throw the moron off his trail, but then, Tobi was stupid enough to get himself lost. Deidara folded his arms over his chest, grumbling as he walked deeper into the forests of this land, finally looking up at the canopy at the silvery thread that covered the branches and leaves, caught up in the beauty of the place. Sasori-danna would have liked it. It sort of made Deidara sick at the thought because their ideas of beauty were horribly different. It was always sort of an unspoken argument between them and the only time Deidara let it go was when Sasori would give him that simple little smile, that knowing little quirk of his lips that made Deidara long to see it again and again.

Deidara almost missed the ninja positioned up in a shield of leaves and silver web. The blonde ducked and stilled, eyes upturned to watch the ninja, studying the young man curiously. He didn’t recognize the shinobi, but as he studied him, he could pick out details. He was young, blending in well with his surroundings because of his clothing, a brown hakama and a green kimono, his dark hair wrapped in a bun. He seemed depressed about something, leaning against the trunk with his head bowed. The blonde shifted beneath the tree and then snuck by the boy, finally coming upon a thick wall of smooth trees.

A village.

In the middle of nowhere?

Deidara slipped inside, scaling the wall as quickly as he could and dropping down, scuttling along the shadows. He paused behind the wall of a home, peeking inside to judge the village’s inhabitants. Obviously mostly shinobi, making this village a brand new Hidden Village, one that Akatsuki obviously didn’t know about yet. The blonde moved along, wincing at the sound of something breaking over a hard surface, cautiously peeking into a window, blinking at the sight of someone standing shirtless against the wall. The dark-haired man was staring down at shattered ceramic on the floor. His hand was on his stomach, the flesh slightly bulging in the beginnings of gentle roundness. Deidara thought he was crying, though those not-tears were hastily wiped away when the boy Deidara had passed earlier entered the residence, the two speaking in soft voices.

The Akatsuki member crept away after learning much more than he wanted to know. After all, it wasn’t every day that not one but two men turned out to be four months pregnant and nobody knew how beyond the obvious. Poor bastards.

Deidara found himself climbing up into one of the tree houses above the village after a few moments of searching, creeping into the darkened abode as silent as a predator on the hunt. The blonde pulled up short when he nearly kicked over a half-completed doll. He bent to pick up the defenseless toy, turning it over in his hands, studying it. He felt cold when he recognized the craftsmanship; the doll in his hand nearly snapped into pieces in his anger.