Summary : (KisaSaku) Good and evil, black and white. Amidst a brewing war, Sakura comes to realize that they're just names for sides… and there's always more than meets the eye.
Notes: Slight AU, TWT (Timeline, what timeline?)

 

The library, Sakura decided, was the absolutely best place in that entire godforsaken complex that she had had permission to enter thus far.

Nestled behind a solid oak door in an improbable corner, the ceilings were slightly higher than those in every other room, even when the building seemed to have been designed with tall residents in mind to begin with. Wooden shelves of a deep mahogany were set into the walls while a few of the free-standing kind were set up in a row to the left. Two tables with matching chairs were placed near the middle, while a cluster of inviting couches and recliners took up the remaining space at the right. Each shelf was stuffed full of books and scrolls of varying sizes, shapes, and colors of every topic she could imagine.

Except--

"Don't touch anything that's warded."

--for that minor detail.

Sakura felt a twitch start up just below her right eye. Irritating man. "Are you going to say that every time we come here?"

The blond in question just scoffed and flopped down onto one of the couches as usual. "Only if you insist on practically drooling over them despite the warning, un."

" I'm not the one that sealed all the interesting books."

"'Interesting,' hm?" Deidara smirked, watching as she carefully returned her previous stack back to their proper places. "I thought good girls didn't dabble in kinjutsu."

"You'd be surprised what is and isn't considered forbidden in Konoha."

"Mmm. Like kage bunshin is, but not that one kunoichi's weapon scrolls?"

Sakura turned away from one of the standing history shelves to give him a curious look. "Kunoichi..?"

"Brown hair and eyes, favors blades, was on a team with the Hyuuga prodigy, un?"

An eyebrow kicked up. "You mean Tenten?"

"Yeah, her."

"Er, I hate to break this to you, but it's not like she's the only one to use transport scrolls in that manner."

"Those aren't regular transport scrolls. They're weapons-dedicated with specific protections worked in. It's kind of like Samehada: only Kisame can use it, yeah? So only the shinobi the weapons scroll was created for can use or even decipher it, un."

Sakura cocked her head to the side and frowned. "I can see why that might complicate things, but not to the point of declaring them kinjutsu. Besides, they're perfect for Ten-Ten. She is a Weapon's Mistress--"

"Mistress?" he interrupted, "not just a ranged Specialist?"

"Yes, why?" she replied cautiously. It wasn't exactly a secret and decidedly obvious for anyone that saw her fight. Even her entry in foreign bingo books had her marked that way.

She thought about ignoring him, but curiosity got the better of her. She had never seen the blond so serious before; even when injured in the middle of a battle he had acted carefree and almost giddy at times.

Even so, she propped a hip against the chair opposite him instead of sinking into the cushions. Just because they were having a semi-civil, intelligent conversation didn't mean he wasn't going to try something when her guard was down.

Deidara frowned and gave her a searching look. "You really don't...? Must be a cultural thing, un." He sat up from his ungraceful sprawl and ran a hand through his hair.

"During the last Great War, the practice was banned in Iwa and even Suna because so many potentials were slaughtered. Hell, they aren't called the Walking Dead for nothing, un." Deidara gestured broadly. "Think about it. If a Master in training is pitted against a Specialist that has a weapon the Master isn't familiar with yet, who are the odds going to favor?"

Sakura frowned, brow creasing. It was true that her friend had a higher than average number of hospital visits than most shinobi, and... "Temari did seem too confident in the chuunin exams," she muttered, then shook her head. "But don't you see? All that means is that once a potential reaches Master level, they would be extremely difficult to defeat."

She paused, focusing thoughtfully in the middle distance. After a moment she met his eye again and smiled grimly. "I don't pretend to know how other countries treat their specialized shinobi, but in Konoha, we support them in whatever ways we can. Training them, defending them when needed... We take care of our own, Deidara. We make sure they succeed, and in doing so, we as a country are stronger." Her head cocked to the side. "And trust me: Tenten is one of the strongest kunoichi of my generation. She earned her title every step of the way."

He didn't move when she turned back to the bookshelves, though she could feel him staring at the back of her skull.

Her fingertips skimmed lightly over the aged book bindings and scrolls that were stacked meticulously on the deep shelf. They were obviously well cared for, not a single cracked binding or dog-eared page in sight.

The selection itself surprised her: Amid various technique and history scrolls were tomes on psychology and mythology, as well as newer, shiny covers claiming to be instructions on carpentry and general home-upkeep with a detective novel here and there. The oddest one by far was a slim book on caring for guinea pigs, which was stuffed in the corner as if someone was trying to hide it.

Deidara's voice, slightly reserved, broke into her reverie. "Those have to stay in here, un."

She glanced up. "Why? They aren't warded or anything."

He frowned and glanced at the shelf. "Huh. Maybe he forgot?" he muttered, then shook his head. "They belong to Kisame, so you'll have to ask him about borrowing any of them, un."

Sakura jerked her hand back and immediately felt like the worst kind of pervert-- instead of peeking in the bath, she had peeked into his personal privacy, however unintentionally.

Feeling slightly sick, she stalked over to the table holding the stack of scrolls she had already collected, ignoring the odd look he gave her. Picking them up, she let him escort her back to her room without comment.

Somewhere, a higher power was laughing at her.

OoOoOoOoO

Breathing a sigh of relief, Deidara dropped onto the couch in the common room and pulled a handful of clay from the thick canvas bag at his hip.

Kisame was sprawled in another chair, head tipped back and eyes narrowed but focused on nothing, fingers tapping out an annoying rhythm on his bicep. A scroll on an advanced sealing technique lay forgotten on his lap.

Deidara leaned back into the cushions and, ever so slowly, he lifted his legs around and up before cautiously resting them on the coffee table in front of him.

The other man didn't even twitch.

Deidara, however, did. " What, un?"

The larger man's head jerked down at the sound of his voice, and he frowned faintly. "Feet off the table," he muttered half-heartedly.

The blond sighed and did as told, stretching his legs out on the couch beside him instead. "What's wrong? I've never seen you this quiet. It'd be refreshing if it wasn't so disturbing, un."

It didn't look like he'd get a response, but Kisame finally muttered something indistinguishable, then sighed. "Talking to the kunoichi is more difficult than I had anticipated."

The blond stared. "This is about Sakura?"

An uncomfortable shrug, "There is a sizeable age gap, not to mention the 'raised in different villages' and 'I'm supposed to be her enemy' issues. I'm having trouble coming up with conversational gambits that won't immediately lead to an argument. What are we going to talk about, 'How to Betray a Village, Lecture One?'"

"Try weather, un?"

"'I'm sure it's nice. Of course, it's not like I would know, since this place doesn't even have windows ,'" Kisame said, voice raised a few octaves in a rather bad mimic of a certain kunoichi.

"Yeah, good point." Deidara grimaced.

Despite the fact that Kisame had been in the small group that had confronted and summarily recruited him to Akatsuki, Deidara had never held any lasting animosity towards the missing-nin. Even considering the other man's love for bloody battles, he was quite the character, not to mention the best conversationalist of the bunch.

Except, apparently, when it came to women.

He knew that Kisame was, er, sensitive about his physical appearance when it came to the gentler sex, but he hadn't thought it was this bad.

Deidara frowned. "Why is this holding you up now? You haven't exactly had a problem getting grabby with her so far, un. Surprised me, actually. You normally keep that polite distance from girls."

"Saa..." The larger man scratched his jaw and sighed, the deep exhale almost drowning out the sandpapery quality of fingernails scraping across a bristly 5 o'clock shadow. "That's different-- she's different. Besides, that kind of thing doesn't require speech to communicate, mm? Touch, scent...those don't lie. Words confuse things."

A heavy silence descended, and Deidara glanced about for something to break the tension in the room. Eyes catching on the dark television, the perfect thing came to mind. An almost manic grin tugged at his lips, and he welcomed it. "Sounds like she's got you tongue-tied , un."

Kisame glared half-heartedly. "Weren't you banned from watching those late night re-runs?"

"I'll have you know that they're classics, un. And how would you know where it was from, anyway?"

"Tobi was singing that stupid song for a week straight after you let him stay up with you one night. Complete with a bad accent."

Deidara winced and offered an apologetic smile. "Oops?"

The other man just grimaced and went back to brooding. Crap.

He sighed and shoved the hunk of clay he had been absently manipulating back into the bag at his hip. "Alright, un. Talking to Girls, 101." He opened his mouth to continue, then paused and closed it when he realized he wasn't sure what to say.

"Hmm... Why not just ask her about herself, un? Women like to talk your ear off about their own hobbies and interests, and she seems smart enough that you won't be bored out of your mind. Though if she starts jabbering about shoes or something, just nod and smile at appropriate moments, un. And compliment her a lot, hm? They love that. Oh, and touch her hair or arm, but pretend like it's an accident. Don't come on too strong, or she'll get skittish. Or bitchy, un."

Kisame stared at him. "What are you, the missin-nin's guide to women?"

Deidara just shrugged.

Shaking his head, the former Mist nin stood and nodded. "Thanks," he murmured, then headed towards the door. He had just reached it when the other man's voice made him pause.

"Oh, one more thing, un."

Kisame glanced over his shoulder to find Deidara regarding him seriously.

"Call her by name."

His brow furrowed. "I did."

"Only once, and you weren't even talking to her, un. She's got to be confused enough as it is. Don't make it worse by sending mixed signals."

Kisame nodded, acknowledging and accepting that, and left without another word.

Deidara stared at the empty doorway for a moment longer before heaving a heavy sigh. “Good luck.”

OoOoOoOoO

Kudos and pixel cookies to anyone who can tell me what classic Brit comedy Deidara referenced. :3

 

Next