Blow Me Away 8 (Deidara x Reader)

Blow Me Away
Chapter 8: I Hate You





“…ra are you sure she’s the one…?”

“I was there, I…”

“Leader-sama won’t be pleased if…”

“…no Danna you’re always…”

“…because you’re an idiot...”

“How mean! Un!...”

“Baka.”

Silence.

“What does Leader-sama want with her?”

“It’s not your place to know.”

“Sasori no Danna doesn’t know either, do you?”

A laugh.

“Urusei! You should be happy I convinced them to leave you in charge of her!”

A pause.

“Thank you.

Silence.

“We need to keep moving. The hideout isn’t too far from here.”

You stirred.

“She’s waking up. Un.”

Something pricked your arm, and their voices blurred into a dying drone.


._._._._._._._._._._._._.

“Oi, wake up!” Someone lightly slapped your cheek. “We're here.”

You groaned. It felt as if your eyelids weighed a hundred pounds and your body a thousand. Your arms and legs were stiff and tingly, as if you had been laying on them far too long and they fell asleep. You tried to sit up but your muscles refused to cooperate, and instead you managed – by some unknown and stupid law of physics – to simply flip yourself over and onto your face.

Someone rolled you onto your back and your stared dazedly at the ceiling, nose smarting. But... it wasn't a ceiling at all. Stalactites drooped from the rock overhead and loomed over your body; a nearly inaudible drip drip could be heard in the silence, and you froze when you realized just where you were.

“Why... am I in a cave?” you murmured, voice hoarse and crackly.

“You're in the Akatsuki hideout,” the someone replied, and blond hair fell into your face. You blinked and found yourself gazing up into the blue eyes of Deidara. “Behave so we don't have to kill you. Un.”

If your arms weren't numb and immobile you might have punched him in the face.

He pulled back and walked away, leaving you and your immovable body to lay beneath the cold, wet stalactites to be bored. Deidara had kidnapped you and you brought you to a cave? What did he want with you? Were your friends still alive? Your eyes began to water. What if they had been killed? Or left there without any help and were dying?

If that was the case then you would personally enact your revenge on Deidara. You already had a pretty high vendetta with him anyways.

But it was no use in worrying about them, you merely gave yourself more grief that way. So instead you amused yourself with fantasies of murdering Deidara, shaving off his hair, and smashing his artwork. In fact, you were so wrapped up in your thoughts that you didn't realize someone was tapping your side with their toe.

“Oi! Are you dead?”

You blinked and moved your head as best as you could. Deidara was looking mightily impatient as he dug his foot into your kidney, his usual smirk replaced with an annoyed frown. You turned your gaze back up to the ceiling and imagined one of the pointy rocks falling on him.

Your grinned.

“Why... are you smiling?”

“Because I am imagining all the different ways you could die.”

Silence.

“Okay...” he backed away from you and sat on a rock. “You sure lost your marbles since I left.”

His statement jerked you back to reality and a pressing weight sunk onto your chest. You had been so happy hating him that you had forgotten how much you hated having to hate him. And the fact that you felt that way made you even angrier – but with yourself. Everything he said, did, and lived for was proof enough that he was an enemy and a traitor of the village; for you to want to care for him... It was disgusting. And the way he casually threw around his absence was even more revolting. It showed how much he didn't care about you, the village, or the feelings of anyone else but himself.

You refused to look at him as you spoke. “Actually, I gained a sense of light since you went traitor.”

“Ho?”

“Yup. I realized how much art sucks, how much I hate blonds, how annoying explosives are, and how a certain man with the name Deidara needs to die a very painful and slow death.”

You ended your spiel with a spine-chilling glare that was extremely difficult to send his way, given the fact your neck wouldn't cooperate right...

“Art doesn't suck!” Deidara yelled, jumping to his feet. “Art is a bang! Especially mine!”

“I disagree,” you replied, and blew a piece of hair from your face. “In fact, I think your art is the ugliest form of creativity ever to be imagined.”

His eye twitched. “Do you wanna die, brat?”

“Die? But Dei-kun, you can't kill me! After all, wasn't I kidnapped for a reason?” You gave him a smug gin. “Why don't you just run along and use that 'art' of yours to blow yourself up.”

You knew you were pushing his limits; art was the worst thing to talk bad about in front of Deidara, most especially if it was his. But you couldn't help yourself. If you were unable to hit him then the next best thing was words.

He walked towards you and grabbed you by the front of your shirt. “And to think I was keeping you alive,” he growled.

An unfathomable and unexplained rage took root in you at that moment. He acted as if he had the right to kill you. If anyone had the right to kill anyone, wasn't it you? After all, he had blown up his teammates, stole a Forbidden Jutsu, destroyed the whole Explosion Corps, left you alone with no goodbye and no explanation, and then joined the village's greatest enemy. It would seem that you deserved to be the one making threats, not him.

You looked up at him and gritted your teeth. “How dare you touch me,” you ground out. “How dare you even think about putting your grimy fingers on me. Let go of me... Now.”

Deidara did no such thing. He brought you closer to him, and you could feel his breathe fan across your face. “Make me.”

You spat in his eye.

Deidara growled and pulled his hand back to strike you. You closed your eyes, bracing for the impact, but it never came. You peeked through your lids to find a man holding Deidara by his wrist.

“Kakuzu!” Deidara barked. “Why'd you stop me?! She had it coming to her, un!”

The man, Kakuzu, didn't move. “I thought you said she was the only one who could stop him? And that she shouldn't be harmed?”

“Putting her in her place isn't harming her!” Deidara snapped back, chagrined.

“Leader-sama is only keeping her alive because of you,” Kakuzu replied. “Because you specifically requested she not be harmed. I believe bruising her would be harming her, don't you?”

Deidara wrenched his hand from Kakuzu's grip. “Tch.”

He stormed back to his original sitting place and crossed his arms over his chest. You probably should have thanked the Kind Samaritan, but the way he looked down at you when he walked by made you think otherwise, and instead you turned so you were facing away from the both of them.

“Next time he gets angry enough to hit you, I won't stop him,” Kakuzu warned.

You ignored him.

“I won't let you stop me,” Deidara grumbled. “A bruise won't kill her.”

His words ignited a fire inside you, and you felt your muscles come back to life. You sprung at him with your hands extended into claws. It didn't work out as you had wished, however, because he dodged you with ease and someone grabbed you from behind and stopped you.

To be fair, you hadn't expected to hit him; your reflexes were slow from whatever they drugged you with and moving your body was like lifting a lead weight. So it didn't surprise you when he easily dodged, but it did catch you off guard when someone grabbed the back of you shirt and yanked you to your knees.

“What's the matter, Dei?!” You taunted, your face contorted into a mask of rage. “A bruise won't kill you!”

Deidara laughed. “Pathetic!”

But you were beyond caring. What dignity you had left was melting into pure, unadulterated anger that consumed you like fire. “I HATE YOU!” You screamed, twisting and turning in the grip of the person behind you. “I HATE YOU MORE THAN ANYTHING!”

You could have swore you saw Deidara flinch and that, even if it was just the tiniest bit, a flash of hurt went across his face. But it must have been your imagination, because his smirk returned and he yelled back, “Good! Hate me! Hate me with every fiber of your being! And while you're at it, cut your nails! They're disgusting!”

A laughed boomed around the room, and the grip on your shirt tightened.

“Oi, oi, oi, Deidara!” The person behind you said. “Control your pet, would ya? She darn near got ya!”

Deidara smirked and lifted his shoulders in a lazy shrug. “She's a spitfire – give her time to get her energy out and she'll be fine.”

“Oho, how should we do that, I wonder?”

Deidara looked at you and licked his lips. “I wonder...”

You dug your nails into your hands. “How dare you speak about me that way!” You tried to kick at your captor. “How dare you treat me like an animal! You have no right to touch me, to speak to me, to breath near me!  And to think you had the audacity to kidnap me after all that you've put me through! You bastard! I hate you! I hate you! I REALLY HATE YOU!”

The someone behind you gave a low whistle. “Dang, you really ticked her off!”

Deidara sighed and turned away, lifting his hand in a lazy wave as if you were some unsightly pest not worth his time. “Whatever. I did all that anyway, right or not, and I'll do a lot more in the future. You're annoying, so stop talking now before I get really ticked off. Leader-sama will be upset if I do anything rash.”

“I will not stop talking!” Your yells echoed off the rock walls.  He kept making his way to a door on the other side of the room.“Jerk! Don't walk away when I'm speaking to you! I'm not done yet! Don't you want to know what the village thinks of you? Don't you want to know how disappointed the Tsuchikage is? Or how your parents won't speak of you? How the families of your teammates felt when they held the bodies of their dead children?! Don't you want to know how you’re a murderer and how I'll never forgive you?! STOP IGNORING ME!”

Deidara froze. He lifted his head and turned it so you could see the side of his face and his one blue eye. Then he walked slowly towards you, his footsteps echoing off the walls and the dirt from the floor making a dusty fog. He grabbed your chin and tilted your head up. He lowered himself so that his face was just above yours.

“I'll do as I please and you'll do as I say,” he whispered, voice as cold as ice. “Or you will die.”