FanFic [with illustration] : Untitled
It came to me in the form of an epiphany.
Made for akatsuki_love's challenge. Dedicating this to harumi_san-senpai because she's just great♥
***
Title: Untitled
Pairing: DeiKona
Prompt: Time
Summary: After the destruction, there stood a flower.
Slow and steady steps. Konan took slow and steady steps toward…
… well, she didn’t know.
Whenever she needed to clear her mind, she always took walks to wherever her feet brought her. It did little help, though. Or it didn’t help at all. Her mind was always a jumble of thoughts and questions that had no answers to. And despite her calm and rational front toward the rest of the members, she always had inner conflicts.
And only Pein knew of what those inner conflicts were about.
The wind was cool against her face. It made her mind feel a bit less pressured. A bit less thoughtful. She stopped on her tracks as a ray of sunlight peeked through the leaves of the trees and hit her face. She raised a hand against her eyes and half-squinted at the sun. It was already mid-afternoon. She saw a flock of birds fly across the clear blue sky, chirping loudly and melodically; so free, so high…
… nothing to think about.
She stood there for a while, deciding on a current destination. She ran her fingertips through her silky blue locks when a gush of wind blew the flower on her hair away. It landed not too far behind her. She picked it up; it felt papery.
It was wilted.
It was a dry autumn day. Konan sat under a tree, the trunk big enough to hide her, on the hill near the hideout. A white flower was held gently in her hand; her fingers were damp with a rather sticky fluid and she ran her fingers along the short stem. She felt someone nearing her.
“Ah, sorry. I thought nobody would be here.” He turned to leave.
“I don’t mind.”
“You sure, un? It’ll get nois-”
“I don’t mind.”
The petals felt dry and brittle. The once pure white flower had brown edges, and as she laid a finger down on one of the petals, it came off. Her seemingly bored eyes examined the dead - or near death, whichever it may be - accessory. She drew it close to her nose, inhaling of what’s left of its fragrance. She could still make out its scent, but it was very faint. Very, very faint. The smell of dew and long-faded freshness blended with its natural smell. It also had a soft and mild tone of earthiness. It was intoxicating. The flower was exotic.
‘Time can be so fast,’ She thought, eyes fixed at the browning edges of the dry thing. ‘I just got this 2 weeks ago.’
She stood up, tossed the flower over her shoulder (no point in having that around), and started walking.
She needed a new one. A fresh one. A pure one.
Konan knew where she wanted to go.
-----
Gravel rolled and slid under her steps. Mud had clung onto her shoes. Dried-up leaves crunched below her feet. Her Akatsuki cloak swayed as the fourth breeze she felt rushed by her. Her lips into a tight line, she spared her surroundings a glance. Spots of sunlight formed on the ground, on the tree trunks, and on the fallen leaves. The rustling of the trees’ leaves made a soothing rhythm; and, strangely enough, it made her loosen up.
Her eyes scanned the forest she was treading in, the all-too familiar forest she treaded in. The amount of birds, reptiles, insects - generally, living creatures - suddenly decreased in that area. The trees around her suddenly looked bald, lacking the abundance of leaves. There were hardly any shade; nothing blocked the direct invasive light of the sun, which was now at its highest point of the day. Nature quietly murmured in her ear.
She drew close to a tree, the one she was closest to, and lightly rubbed her hand over the bark. She looked at her hand; ashes. Grey, nearly unnoticeable, ashes. It was there, even though it was too light to see. She brushed her thumb over her fingers, trying to feel something there. His separated particles. It had to be there. It had to be in those ashes. That explosion must’ve scattered him everywhere in this forest.
He sat beside her and stared at what she was doing.
“A flower?” He looked at her hair and didn’t find her signature accessory. She was rubbing some kind of oil on each petal, on its short stem, and on its stalk. She spread it evenly.
“Prolonging its life.”
He scowled.
‘Prolonging?’
She should’ve stopped him. She could’ve stopped him. But she thought of it too much and made the wrong decision. Once more, she made a wrong decision. She could’ve reasoned with him to not go, to not take revenge over something so shallow. He didn’t even want revenge. Konan knew Deidara didn’t want revenge on the younger Uchiha.
Deidara wanted a reaction.
To show Itachi that he was worth something. To prove that his art was worthy- no, more than worthy enough to defeat the Sharingan. More than worthy enough to defeat a man with Uchiha blood. He wanted to impress Itachi, right then and there.
Konan was good with words. Her logic and the way she twists your words around, rival that of Pein’s. It wouldn’t have taken more than two minutes to convince the blond. He could still be here, creating art, creating noise, arguing with Tobi… if she talked to him, he’d still be-
She saw the forest clearing.
-----
There it was. The crater. The remnant. The destruction. The creation.
The art.
The first time she came here was a week or two after the explosion (she wanted to at least offer her condolence to Deidara, even though he’s gone). She had taken the forest route. She stared at the big scar on the ground, slightly drawn by the effect of the technique. Her eyes moved about the crater and something in the middle caught her attention. She walked towards it, interest arising. And what she found had her coming back every time the flower on her hair died.
She took a deep breath, the air felt really nice. She slid down the wall of the vast depression and walked towards the middle. Her shoes clacked on the stones and on the hard ground, her eyes were fixed on the white flower swinging side to side, due to the hardly felt wind. She stooped down, caressing the petals with her fingers. It felt soft and smooth, and its fragrance flooded her senses. It had just bloom.
It was waiting for her.
She positioned her fingers on the very bottom of the stem. Then carefully, she eroded some of the soil, so that the stem wouldn’t be cut out illy when she picks it up. When the soil was just above the roots, she snapped the flower. She closed her eyes and drew the flower close to her nose, smelling its beauty.
Deidara molded clay. His hand-mouths didn’t chew it; his fingers did all the work this time. Concentration can be read from his eye. His eyebrow slanted downwards as he shaped the difficult angles of the sculpture. A few minutes more, he was retouching the thing. Then he showed it to Konan.
“How’d you like it, un?”
Konan slowly turned her head. A giant butterfly greeted her eyes. It’s very good, she thought. It was complete with everything. The wings, the body, the tiny legs… Perfection. Deidara saw the ghost of a smile.
“Your art is wonderful, Deidara.”
The white flower only became truly beautiful when it was set on her hair.
***
Illustration of the Flashback
I blame this fic on this pic. Konan's the apparition thing-y; and is it just me, or Deidara's looking at her? I know, it's just me. xP
Owari~!
Made for akatsuki_love's challenge. Dedicating this to harumi_san-senpai because she's just great♥
***
Title: Untitled
Pairing: DeiKona
Prompt: Time
Summary: After the destruction, there stood a flower.
Slow and steady steps. Konan took slow and steady steps toward…
… well, she didn’t know.
Whenever she needed to clear her mind, she always took walks to wherever her feet brought her. It did little help, though. Or it didn’t help at all. Her mind was always a jumble of thoughts and questions that had no answers to. And despite her calm and rational front toward the rest of the members, she always had inner conflicts.
And only Pein knew of what those inner conflicts were about.
The wind was cool against her face. It made her mind feel a bit less pressured. A bit less thoughtful. She stopped on her tracks as a ray of sunlight peeked through the leaves of the trees and hit her face. She raised a hand against her eyes and half-squinted at the sun. It was already mid-afternoon. She saw a flock of birds fly across the clear blue sky, chirping loudly and melodically; so free, so high…
… nothing to think about.
She stood there for a while, deciding on a current destination. She ran her fingertips through her silky blue locks when a gush of wind blew the flower on her hair away. It landed not too far behind her. She picked it up; it felt papery.
It was wilted.
It was a dry autumn day. Konan sat under a tree, the trunk big enough to hide her, on the hill near the hideout. A white flower was held gently in her hand; her fingers were damp with a rather sticky fluid and she ran her fingers along the short stem. She felt someone nearing her.
“Ah, sorry. I thought nobody would be here.” He turned to leave.
“I don’t mind.”
“You sure, un? It’ll get nois-”
“I don’t mind.”
The petals felt dry and brittle. The once pure white flower had brown edges, and as she laid a finger down on one of the petals, it came off. Her seemingly bored eyes examined the dead - or near death, whichever it may be - accessory. She drew it close to her nose, inhaling of what’s left of its fragrance. She could still make out its scent, but it was very faint. Very, very faint. The smell of dew and long-faded freshness blended with its natural smell. It also had a soft and mild tone of earthiness. It was intoxicating. The flower was exotic.
‘Time can be so fast,’ She thought, eyes fixed at the browning edges of the dry thing. ‘I just got this 2 weeks ago.’
She stood up, tossed the flower over her shoulder (no point in having that around), and started walking.
She needed a new one. A fresh one. A pure one.
Konan knew where she wanted to go.
-----
Gravel rolled and slid under her steps. Mud had clung onto her shoes. Dried-up leaves crunched below her feet. Her Akatsuki cloak swayed as the fourth breeze she felt rushed by her. Her lips into a tight line, she spared her surroundings a glance. Spots of sunlight formed on the ground, on the tree trunks, and on the fallen leaves. The rustling of the trees’ leaves made a soothing rhythm; and, strangely enough, it made her loosen up.
Her eyes scanned the forest she was treading in, the all-too familiar forest she treaded in. The amount of birds, reptiles, insects - generally, living creatures - suddenly decreased in that area. The trees around her suddenly looked bald, lacking the abundance of leaves. There were hardly any shade; nothing blocked the direct invasive light of the sun, which was now at its highest point of the day. Nature quietly murmured in her ear.
She drew close to a tree, the one she was closest to, and lightly rubbed her hand over the bark. She looked at her hand; ashes. Grey, nearly unnoticeable, ashes. It was there, even though it was too light to see. She brushed her thumb over her fingers, trying to feel something there. His separated particles. It had to be there. It had to be in those ashes. That explosion must’ve scattered him everywhere in this forest.
He sat beside her and stared at what she was doing.
“A flower?” He looked at her hair and didn’t find her signature accessory. She was rubbing some kind of oil on each petal, on its short stem, and on its stalk. She spread it evenly.
“Prolonging its life.”
He scowled.
‘Prolonging?’
She should’ve stopped him. She could’ve stopped him. But she thought of it too much and made the wrong decision. Once more, she made a wrong decision. She could’ve reasoned with him to not go, to not take revenge over something so shallow. He didn’t even want revenge. Konan knew Deidara didn’t want revenge on the younger Uchiha.
Deidara wanted a reaction.
To show Itachi that he was worth something. To prove that his art was worthy- no, more than worthy enough to defeat the Sharingan. More than worthy enough to defeat a man with Uchiha blood. He wanted to impress Itachi, right then and there.
Konan was good with words. Her logic and the way she twists your words around, rival that of Pein’s. It wouldn’t have taken more than two minutes to convince the blond. He could still be here, creating art, creating noise, arguing with Tobi… if she talked to him, he’d still be-
She saw the forest clearing.
-----
There it was. The crater. The remnant. The destruction. The creation.
The art.
The first time she came here was a week or two after the explosion (she wanted to at least offer her condolence to Deidara, even though he’s gone). She had taken the forest route. She stared at the big scar on the ground, slightly drawn by the effect of the technique. Her eyes moved about the crater and something in the middle caught her attention. She walked towards it, interest arising. And what she found had her coming back every time the flower on her hair died.
She took a deep breath, the air felt really nice. She slid down the wall of the vast depression and walked towards the middle. Her shoes clacked on the stones and on the hard ground, her eyes were fixed on the white flower swinging side to side, due to the hardly felt wind. She stooped down, caressing the petals with her fingers. It felt soft and smooth, and its fragrance flooded her senses. It had just bloom.
It was waiting for her.
She positioned her fingers on the very bottom of the stem. Then carefully, she eroded some of the soil, so that the stem wouldn’t be cut out illy when she picks it up. When the soil was just above the roots, she snapped the flower. She closed her eyes and drew the flower close to her nose, smelling its beauty.
Deidara molded clay. His hand-mouths didn’t chew it; his fingers did all the work this time. Concentration can be read from his eye. His eyebrow slanted downwards as he shaped the difficult angles of the sculpture. A few minutes more, he was retouching the thing. Then he showed it to Konan.
“How’d you like it, un?”
Konan slowly turned her head. A giant butterfly greeted her eyes. It’s very good, she thought. It was complete with everything. The wings, the body, the tiny legs… Perfection. Deidara saw the ghost of a smile.
“Your art is wonderful, Deidara.”
The white flower only became truly beautiful when it was set on her hair.
***
Illustration of the Flashback
I blame this fic on this pic. Konan's the apparition thing-y; and is it just me, or Deidara's looking at her? I know, it's just me. xP
Owari~!