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365daysofsasuhina · 5 years

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[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Eighty-Five: An Artist ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata, Uchiha Itachi ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: Best Years of Your Life ] [ AO3 Link ]

He’s never been one much for the arts. That’s always been more his brother’s calling, despite their father’s begrudging acceptance. While Itachi pursued music, Sasuke took to filling Fugaku’s expectations and going to school to major in business.

Granted, Itachi’s doing quite well - arguably better than his younger brother. Lessons from age four, of course, give him a little edge. Add in natural dexterity and talent, and he’s already playing in recital halls packed to the brim to hear him play his melancholy notes.

But Sasuke can’t bring himself to be jealous. Sure, he’s still hanging from a rather low rung of the corporate ladder, but it’s stuff he finds fairly mindless and easy. While many hate their jobs, Sasuke simply...does his, neither actively enjoying or disliking it. It’s just something he does for about eight hours a day, five days a week. So far he’s managing a rather frugal lifestyle just fine.

Granted, it’s also a rather lonesome lifestyle. Sasuke’s not much of a socializer to begin with, but occasionally a friend will drag him out for something. But mostly, he enjoys doing things either with his family, or on his own.

Today is one of the latter days.

Just down the street from his apartment is a niche little coffee shop he frequents. Itachi teases him about how hipster it seems, but Sasuke just brushes the comments aside. He doesn’t much care what it’s like besides being quiet, quaint, and hosting (in his opinion) perfectly brewed black coffee.

Which is why he’s currently seated at his favorite corner table, sipping a cup and going over a presentation he needs to deliver next week. It’s already finished, but it’s an excuse to get out of his living quarters and get some liquid energy. While he can’t practice the auditory part here, he can tinker a few details and...mostly spend the afternoon browsing his favorite sites.

...that is...until he feels eyes on him.

His own flicker up, the only part of him moving as they search for the intruder. But every other face is turned away - either browsing their own laptops or phones, reading, talking to a table mate, or...scribbling on a rather large pad of paper.

Dark eyes squint just a hair, watching.

It’s a young woman - about his age, maybe a little younger...her face is rather soft, so it’s hard to tell. Seated in a booth along the opposite wall, she has her knees brought up to rest against the lip of her table, and a sizeable sketchbook is propped atop them. He can tell she’s not writing - her hand flies across the paper far too much to be anything but drawing.

Huh...he has to wonder what she’s sketching. Not that he knows much about it, but surely the setting is quite nice. A still life, maybe - seems like something rather eye-catching to draw. Or so he’ll guess. Itachi would have far more idea about than he. His talents might lie in music, but he knows the artistic side of things in general better than Sasuke ever will.

After a minute or so, he goes back to his laptop screen, sipping his coffee and absorbing back into the work.

When he starts packing up to head home, she’s already gone.

The work week passes, and it’s not until the following Saturday he can make it back. Unlike his last visit, it’s pouring rain this time. A wet umbrella rests against his chair. The same project - to be presented Monday - is back on his laptop screen...but mostly just as an excuse. He told Naruto he couldn’t go to some local league basketball game he’s playing in due to work.

It’s...half true. He hasn’t given the presentation yet. It’s still a work in progress. But he also hasn’t touched it in three days because the powerpoint part is done. While he could be home rehearsing it...Naruto has a nasty habit of dropping in even when told no. Hence hiding out here.

Besides, he’s got it memorized already. He’s not missing much by loligagging here.

The shop’s a bit more crowded today - probably because warm drinks are the perfect staple for a cool, rainy Spring day. And who wants to be out in the weather? Better to just...cozy up here until the rain stops.

The numbers don’t bother him - he got here early enough to claim his table, and no one’s dared ask to steal a chair or join him. Whether he intends it or not (though usually he does), Sasuke has a rather distance-inducing aura. Or at least, that’s how his brother oh so politely puts it.

Sasuke, on the other hand, knows he just has a major case of resting bitch face. And he’s more than glad for the annoyances it spares him...at least, with anyone intelligent enough to read it. Hence why Naruto still hangs around...he just doesn’t quite get it.

Today he’s indulging in a bitter cup of sugarless hot cocoa when that same feeling returns: like someone’s watching him. Looking up, he still doesn’t catch anyone staring.

...but he does notice she’s back. Sketchbook lady. Returned to the same spot, shying a bit from her neighbors but still scribbling away. This time it’s not just a pencil - some colored...somethings sit in a neat tray atop her table. Not pencils, and...he doesn’t think they’re crayons? Oh, who cares what they are. Either way, she must be coloring her previous shot, given her same vantage point and what looks to be the same sketchbook.

Huh.

A bit more curious this time, Sasuke takes to watching her. Every so often, she looks up and studies the wall behind him: the one directly across from her. Shrewd, pale eyes squint as she examines it before going back to her coloring.

...he sort of wants to see it.

Sasuke also can’t help but wonder how she’s accounting for the change of people. There’s more of them, and they’re surely different than last weekend. Did she just...go over what she had? Or is she improvising? He’s never really given such things a thought before, but...watching someone in the act of creating, admittedly, piques his interest.

But after a little while, it gets a bit repetitive...and he can’t exactly see what she’s doing. A little disappointed, Sasuke goes back to his procrastinating, eventually noting that the rain has stopped. Should he risk going back home…?

Maybe not yet.

He stays a few hours more, ordering another cup and an everything bagel to pass the time. Not the best lunch he could have, but...meh. He can have something better for him for dinner. Only once he gets a text from the knucklehead proclaiming victory (and whining he didn’t show up) does Sasuke deem it safe to head home.

The next morning, he wakes to his phone vibrating against his nightstand. Groggily he grabs it, swiping to answer and mumbling, “Hullo?”

“Sasuke, good morning.”

He blinks slowly. “...’tachi?”

“Forgive me for calling so early, but I wanted you to be the first to know: I’m going to be back in town for the week. I’ll be flying in this afternoon.”

Dark eyes quickly brighten, sitting up. “Really?”

“Yes. I was going to tell Mother and Father tomorrow morning - I thought, for today, it could just be the two of us.”

A kind of childish glee at both the falsehood (his brother never lies) and his indulging of Sasuke’s constant pining to see him beget a smile. “Yeah, sure - got anything in mind?”

“Oh, I thought we’d just wander around downtown and see what jumps out at us. I haven’t been back in almost a year, I want to see what’s changed.”

“Okay, yeah - sure.”

“I’ll meet you at your building - I’ve got a rental car arranged. I should be there about three?”

“I’ll be waiting!”

Hanging up, Sasuke can’t help but grin at his brother’s number before it fades back to the homescreen. Well...talk about a great start to a week!

By the time Itachi makes it, he’s been bored for hours, having little else to do on a Sunday but wait around. They immediately leave again, going on foot to simply explore.

“I’ve missed this city,” Itachi admits wistfully, hands in his coat’s pockets and simply looking around.

“And we’ve missed you - how’re all your gigs going?”

“Wonderfully. I’ve been planning a little tour with another artist: a vocalist who’s been practicing with me the past few weeks.”

“Any stops near here?”

“In here, as a matter of fact - but not for a few months. We’ve got quite a bit of practice and arranging to do. But I will let you know.” Slowing to a stop, Itachi cocks his head curiously at an open door. “...Sasuke, care to go in?”

“Huh? What is it?”

“Apparently an art exhibition - locals, seems like.”

It might not be his scene, but...well, Itachi’s the guest, and it’ll make him happy. “Yeah, sure.”

The pair enter, quickly seeing a variety of works and mediums by a vast array of artists. While Itachi speaks to the host, Sasuke starts wandering, not as invested as he’s sure Itachi will be. Thumbs hooked in his belt loops, he glances over several pieces before coming to a standstill.

Wait...but that’s…?

Still staring as Itachi joins him, Sasuke barely hears his question. “...huh?”

“I asked if you found something you like…? Oh...well that looks an awful lot like -”

“It’s me.”

“...are you sure?”

“Yeah, I…” A bit flabbergasted, Sasuke shifts his weight, gesturing. “I go there all the time. That’s my table, and my laptop -” His umbrella even made it in the shot. There’s no doubt about it: even the angle matches. This has to be that woman, from before! She was drawing...him…?

“Can I help -? Oh!”

Both brothers turn to an approaching figure, and Sasuke locks surprised eyes with none other than the artist. Her own are wide, and color lightly tints her cheeks.

“It...it’s you!”

“Yeah...me,” Sasuke replies. Now it makes sense: why he kept feeling watched.

“I...I-I hope you don’t mind me using you as a model, I...I mostly do street drawing. I just...draw what I see. I was lucky to catch you twice, and so quickly! I just finished this piece this morning, I almost couldn’t bring it…” A hand tucks stray hair behind her ear. “...I’m Hinata.”

“Sasuke. Nice to actually meet you, I guess.”

“L-likewise!”

Behind him, Itachi gives a knowing smile. “May I ask, are your works for sale?”

“Oh, well...no, technically not.”

“Ah...forgive me.”

“No no, that’s okay! Would you...like to buy it…?”

“It’s rare to see my brother captured in such a way,” Itachi muses, earning an embarrassed glower from Sasuke. “You truly did a fantastic job. Of course, if you’d like to keep it -”

“No, I understand! I’m just delighted you f-found it! This city’s rather big, after all…”

“As am I. And I’m always a fan of supporting local creators. So, may we negotiate…?”

As the talk turns to money, Sasuke scowls and sulks off to one side, eyeing her other works. True to her word, most are just...captures of various local places and people. Though stylized to a point, he can still recognize quite a few places just at a glance, and further looking shows a great amount of detail.

Signing a check, Itachi hands it over with a smile. “A pleasure, miss Hyūga. I do hope you keep creating - your works are lovely.”

She ducks her head shyly, and then glances to the slip, eyes going wide. “...but you said -?”

“Please, consider it a well-deserved tip. I know enough artists to know they often undersell themselves. And yours is a talent worth supporting.”

Looking awed, Hinata breaks into a soft smile. “I’ll...go see about packaging this for you. Thank you s-so much.”

Itachi nods, turning as his brother steps back up. “Are you truly so opposed to the piece?”

“No...I’m not. It’s just kinda weird.”

“Why?”

“I dunno. Just is.”

“Well, it’s clear your territories overlap - perhaps she’ll be able to draw you again, hm?”

He doesn’t have an answer for that.

Returning with the framed artwork carefully wrapped and bagged, Hinata hands it over with another thank you. “Um...s-sorry again for stealing your visage.”

“Don’t worry about it. I guess now I get to see what you were working so hard on.”

Another light blush pinkens her cheeks. “I’ve wanted to do a portrait in there for ages...you just had the right...look, I guess.”

That earns a small snort. “Suppose I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Miss Hyūga, might I have your cell number in case I find any other potential investors in you and your work?”

“Oh! Um...sure!”

“Sasuke, you should do the same.”

“What?”

His brother gives him a look that clearly says not to question him. “It’s never a bad idea to stay connected. Besides, given I’ve taken her only copy, Hinata might want to arrange another portrait.”

Squinting suspiciously, Sasuke nonetheless agrees, exchanging digits.

“Thank you so much, miss Hyūga.”

“Oh, please just call me Hinata.”

“Very well - I hope you enjoy your evening.”

Once the brothers take their leave, Sasuke rounds on Itachi. “What was that all about?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“All of that!”

“What, I can’t buy art of you?”

“No, that’s - you were - and the number -”

“It’s clear she finds you intriguing,” Itachi replies briskly. “And not just in a superficial way. She could have captured anyone in that shop, but she chose you. Hinata saw something that caught her eye about you that no one else had managed. I just thought keeping a person with that impression of you close might be...wise.”

“...you’re setting me up.”

“Connections, Sasuke - they’re important.” Itachi gives him a smile, eyes twinkling. “Don’t they teach you that in your line of work?”

Having no retort, Sasuke just stuffs his hands in his pockets. “...c’mon, we’ve still got daylight to burn.”

“If you insist.”

Oof, this is...very very long compared to most entries, and now it's super late, I gotta get hopping to bed xD I got the idea not long after reading the prompt, and honestly thought it wouldn't be long enough...and then it ended up twice as long as most drabbles I've done for this challenge! But it was a cute concept, even when I realized it was gonna sop up the rest of my evening, haha! Anyway, I'm wiped, so I better call it. Hope you enjoyed, and thanks for reading!

#sasuhina #uchiha sasuke #hyūga hinata #uchiha itachi #best years of your life [ au ]#365daysofsasuhina

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southsidestory · 7 years

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Homecoming

Rating: Teen

Pairing: SasuSaku

Summary: Their first kiss was on Homecoming night. The briefest touch, his lips to hers, before Sakura pulled away, blushing. Then again, a kiss not so fleeting, followed by one after another until the sun rose above them.

Notes: I’ve been in a mood for SS lately (blame @xxlovendreamsxx), and it seemed like the perfect time to write this little high school fic. @jjibbless sent me a request for “high school popular kid / nerd AU” awhile back, which ties into the Day 9 prompt pretty well in my opinion! Thank you jjibbless for the request and @sasusakumonths for hosting this awesome event.

prelude

It isn’t that Sasuke Uchiha is a misfit, exactly. He’s too good-looking—and high schoolers are too shallow—for him to be an utter outcast. But he’s the kind of boy who spends more time alone than with their classmates, and if he has any friends besides Naruto, who’s friends with everyone, then he’s keeping them well hidden. Sasuke’s GPA is tied with Sakura’s for the highest in the Class of 2018, but she’s sure that if he’d socialize, people would stop dismissing him as a nerd. Instead, he blows off every dance, football game, and party he’s invited to.

Until homecoming. It’s the kind of warm October evening that you can only find in southern California, late enough in the year that autumn’s edge has calmed the weather from suffocating to balmy. Sakura is crowned homecoming queen, the San Junipero Sharks kick the Gardena Wolfhounds’ asses, and Sasuke Uchiha shows up to a school event. All in all, it’s a beautiful night.

watch the queen

Only a loser would lurk around the corner, pretending not to spy on a pretty girl, and Sasuke is not a loser. He isn’t lurking either. Just standing around, keeping himself busy with people-watching—well, person-watching.

Sakura is sitting with the other girls from the homecoming court, all of them trussed up in ridiculous fluffy gowns and torturous-looking shoes. Ino seems pissed that Sakura took the crown, but in that strangely fond way that characterizes their relationship. Maybe Sasuke is too distant from Sakura’s circle to understand how that odd friendship functions, but he thinks it might be every bit as confusing to witness up close.

Seven months. He has seven months until graduation. He needs to either ask Sakura out or get his head on straight and forget about her.

Moving on would be better. He heard that Sakura is applying to Ivy League schools all over the country, and God knows she’s accomplished enough to be accepted into most of them. Sasuke keeps pace with her academically, but foster kids don’t have the financial backing for Yale. He’s about to age out of the system, and it’s going to take all of his time and energy just to get by. Even if Sakura wants him back—and sometimes, when he catches her looking at him across the library, he thinks she might—Sasuke knows that it’s not enough. She’s beautiful, brilliant, privileged, and loved. Her future is too bright to risk dimming, and she deserves better than anything he could provide.

But then he thinks, What’s one date? It’s not like watching a movie together and grabbing dinner (maybe kissing on her doorstep, if he’s lucky) would turn into something committed. Sasuke can’t hope for any of that, much less more, so why not at least try?

laid bare

Ino steals Sakura’s crown and puts it on her own head. “You should just give this to me,” she says.

“Oh really?” Sakura asks. “Why’s that?”

Ino sticks out her tongue, adjusts the tiara, and says, “Because all anyone will look at when you wear it is the big billboard brow it’s sitting on.”

Sakura pinches Ino’s shoulder. “I guess the majority of the student body disagrees, Pig.”

She pulls a handful of pins out of her hair, kicks off her shoes, and props her feet up on the bleacher seats. Ino gossips about the torrid affair that she’s certain Mr. Sarutobi and Ms. Yuhi are having.

“That’s ridiculous. They barely talk.”

“Well, duh, that’s because they’re trying not to be obvious,” Ino says, rolling her eyes. “Because when they are in the same room, the way they look at each other is practically pornographic. Mark my words, Forehead: they’re doing the nasty.”

Ten-Ten says, “Please shut up. I don’t want to think about Ms. Yuhi getting busy while I’m trying to learn calculus.”

“Seconded,” Hinata says gently.

Ino shrugs. “Why not? She’s hot as hell, and sex is way more interesting than differential equations...”

Sakura thinks Ino might still be talking, but she can’t focus on the conversation because Sasuke Uchiha is walking up the bleacher steps, and it looks like he might be walking toward her. They’re friendly enough that her silly coronation merits some kind of congratulations, right?

“Sakura,” he says.

The other girls fall quiet around her, and Sakura could kick them all for staring.

“Hi,” she says. “It’s, uh, really nice to see you here.”

“And surprising,” Ino adds.

Sasuke doesn’t seem offended, although he’d have every right to be.

Sakura jumps up, straightens her dress, and asks, “Wanna take a walk? I’d invite you to sit down, but this bunch probably wouldn’t let you get a word in edgewise.”

There’s the briefest flash of unbridled emotion on Sasuke’s face, a slight expression of surprise, maybe even excitement. But he reins it in before Sakura can be certain, and he only says, “Yeah, sure.”

Sakura is so elated to have a moment alone with Sasuke that she runs off without her heels. By the time she notices, it would be embarrassing to go back to fetch them, so she just walks on the dewy ground barefoot, too happy to even care that she’s getting grass stains on her snow white dress.

until sunrise

Their school is dark, empty, and locked at this time of night, but there are still places to linger. They take seats at a picnic table outside the cafeteria doors, splitting a funnel cake. Sasuke bought it when they passed the concession stand, but he didn’t think about the intimacy of sharing food. They have to sit close, and their hands keeping brushing as they eat. It tugs at something in his chest when Sakura steals the choicest pieces of cake, her smile teasing and bright.

“I wouldn’t have guessed you’d be so greedy,” Sasuke says.

Sakura ducks her head, then looks up at him through her lashes. “Well, maybe we should get to know each other better.”

“So I won’t be surprised when you steal my food?”

“Our food,” Sakura corrects. “You bought it for both of us. It’s not my fault if you can’t defend your territory.”

She swipes the last chunk of cake and eats it. Sasuke doesn’t think she means to be seductive, but he still has to look away as she licks the snowy sugar off her fingers.

Silence falls between them once the funnel cake is gone, and just to break it, Sasuke asks, “How’s your English paper going?”

“Oh, no,” Sakura says, laughing. “I’m not giving you an update on your competition.”

“Hn. You’re not my competition,” Sasuke says. He pokes her side, purely for the sake of making her jump. “Valedictorian is mine. We’ll just have to wait a few more months to confirm it.”

“Is that so?” Sakura asks, suddenly serious, except for the brightness of her gaze. “What makes you so certain?”

“I need it more,” Sasuke says, without thinking.

Sakura’s teasing expression slips away, replaced by something softer. She doesn’t say anything—which is good, because if she pitied him right now, it would ruin everything.

Then she reaches for his hand and grasps it in her own. They stay this way, linked by a singular touch, for a long while.

the valedictorian

Sakura can’t be upset when Sasuke takes the number one spot. His GPA barely edges hers out because of an A- she made in English IV, and if anyone else had ranked above her, she would have been furious. But Sasuke hadn’t lied four months ago at Homecoming, when he said he needed this more than she did. She hopes that maybe, with a little luck, he’ll get a financial package from Stanford that will allow him to accept the place they offered him. With her.

She takes Sasuke to a little Italian restaurant by the shore to celebrate their accomplishments. While they eat their appetizers, Sakura lifts her glass of water and says, “To my amazing boyfriend, the Class of 2018’s valedictorian.”

Sasuke rolls his eyes, but his smile is happy, if small. Sakura counts that as more of a victory than class rank could ever be.

coda

Their first kiss was on Homecoming night. The briefest touch, his lips to hers, before Sakura pulled away, blushing. Then again, a kiss not so fleeting, followed by one after another until the sun rose above them.

On graduation day, in the wake of his speech, Sasuke thinks of that night. It was a beginning, the start of something he could never have anticipated. Maybe today is an ending, the closing chapter of their simple school days, but what he and Sakura have together, it’s the kind of love that can be counted on.

#sasusaku #ssfanfiction #ssm17 #ssm17d8 #sasusakumonth #sasusaku fanfiction #ss fanfiction #on opposite sides #high school au #prompt fill #oneshot #jjibbless #homecoming #my fanfiction

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r0botarmsapts · 7 years

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Fandom: Naruto Characters: Sasori & Deidara. Category: Modern Day Father’s Day AU, Note: This was originally written for Father’s Day, 2009. This version is an updated one. The original was on an old account. Also, majorly ooc. Length: Around 2k. Summary: Six year old Deidara's present gives Sasori something to think about.

Do not repost this work.

Sasori had not seen Deidara since breakfast that morning- the child having been holed up in his room since then. It was unusual for the normally energetic boy that hated to be inside on such bright, beautiful days.

Stopping outside of Deidara’s door, it was, of course, shut and the only noises he could pick up on were the faint sounds of something scribbling on paper. “You alive in there?” Sasori questioned flatly while crossing his arms, keeping his small curiosity to himself over what the kid could have been up to.

“Fine! I’ll see you later, un!” Deidara replied in a hurried tone, not wanting Sasori to see his work before it was finished. The surprise would be ruined otherwise, and the hard work for nothing.

Much to the young boys relief, Sasori only raised an eyebrow at the reply and left to go finish a half-completed puppet in his workshop down in the basement. xxxxxxxxxx

Opening the door to the basement, he flicked on the light, having moved the switch to the top of the stairs some years ago after buying the house. It had been at the bottom previously and was in a rather odd place in his opinion.

Only a couple of steps down, he had to remind himself to not lock the door in case the brat needed something. Not long after he had taken Deidara in, he re-did the doors locks, knowing the boy well enough to not put it past him to get locked in his workshop. The red head was certain he had saved himself a lot of trouble already doing that.

Sitting down, he picked up his tools and set to work as if he had never left. xxxxxxxxxx

Meanwhile, upstairs the boy had made use of a word his teenaged friend had taught him behind Sasori’s back. He had said it once in front of the older man and gotten in trouble for it, so he saved using for when Sasori was not around to hear it.

Deidara was heavily focused on his work and watching his language was not something he particularly cared about right now. Getting this present done was his main priority today. It had been a little more than a year since Sasori had taken him in, and even though they had gotten in small arguments over things, he had come to love the other artist. Even when they disagreed he was never cruel to him...

Art was something Deidara had taken to quickly, creating and destroying(especially with small explosions, knowledge he had yet to tell anybody how he learned it having gotten in enough trouble before because of them). Building something pretty and destroying it was art to him, he adored it. Deidara would eventually learn from Sasori that the word he was looking for was ‘fleeting’. He made good use of it ever since, to Sasori’s sometimes annoyance.

Still, he and Sasori had very different views on art. The older man was dead-set on true art being eternal, being able to appreciate it forever, and that did not sit well with the boy. That was utterly boring, and he was quick to tell Sasori as much. Sasori simply replied he was a brat that was too young to understand what true art really was. Deidara shook his head at the memory, but figured Sasori must have saw something in his creations as he had clay to create with(but anything he could use to burn it or blow it up was off limits). That was not too much of an issue for Deidara, he could get some help with that from Hidan, usually.

Being careful today, he was also wearing his dark blue finger-less gloves to avoid the needle pricking one of his palm-mouths. They were an unexplained birth defect, he had been told. Deidara did not mind them, but others did. They were enough to mark him as a freak and outcast from other children, so he was normally left alone to ignore what they said about him, and he had gotten good at hiding to avoid bullies most of the time, but that was back at the orphanage.

Things had been different since Sasori had taken him in.

It seemed as though Sasori knew lots of other weird people too, and they were not cruel with their words or questions either.

“I hope Sasori likes it, un.” He thought out loud, remembering one of Sasori’s lady friends. Konan, she was stern but nice, and had told him a couple of weeks ago about a day to show your Father that you care about them. Why she told him about that, he did not know or question at the time, but was glad she did. Her face at the time reminded him of Hidan’s before they got into mischief.

After learning this, he thought of his time with Sasori and realized the man had been like a Father to him.

He remembered the night he ran away from the new orphanage he had been recently transferred in to, running into Sasori for the first time when he was on his own, sleeping in the same bed as the man when he first started living with him, spending nights in his room when the weather was especially nasty and getting a special baseball mitt so he could play without his palm-mouth getting injured.

For the past week, he had been stealthily gathering supplies and hiding them from Sasori’s sight. So, today he would be able to make something by hand that he knew everyone liked in one form or another; a little stuffed animal. A little scorpion shaped one. Or at least one he did his best to make it look like one. Proportions and shapes were noticeably off, but you could tell what it was on sight and that would have to do for now. This was not his specialty area.

The finishing touches would be adding its left eye and wrapping it. Deidara hoped Sasori would like it. ‘Even a little,’ he finished in thought. xxxxxxxxxx

According to the clock on his desk, it was eleven-fifty am and took him a moment to register that he had been working uninterrupted for over two hours. That usually only happened when the brat was at school, never on the weekend. ‘<i>About time for his nap too</i>,’ He thought, leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms above his head. Casting a look at his puppet, the red-head was glad to note it was nearly complete before getting up.

There was something else bugging him about working uninterrupted with Deidara around, and halfway up the stairs it occurred to him that he had worked through lunch, which was normally at eleven. Deidara had only turned six a couple of months ago and tried to insist he was too old for such things, only to fall asleep a few minutes later. Sasori noticed the boy was a bit advanced for his age and knew things no child that young should know. However, that was one thing Deidara remained tight lipped on. The blonde rarely mentioned times before he came to live with him, and Sasori only knew his time at the two different orphanages was not great.

Bumping into the boy that snowy night had changed his life in ways he had never expected. Sasori had never saw himself as someone having children, content with his career and art, which often overlapped. Ever since Deidara came to him, he had admittedly seen more of daylight than he had in a good while.

The strange rumors he was a vampire had also died down as well. Sasori was not unaware of them, he just worked at night at those times. His neighbors had strange imaginations and little free time to come up with something as outlandish as that.

Still, Sasori couldn’t help but wonder if the brat was attempting something no good, again. At least it was no good to the red head. It was only the other day he had confiscated some unusual materials from Deidara and still, he didn’t know where he had gotten them from. Among them them were small fireworks and matches, things no six year old should have had access to. Sasori suspected he had saved someone(namely himself) from both property and very possibly physical damages.

He did not have to go far to find Deidara. The boy was at the kitchen table, head lain down sideways and he was sleeping soundly. In front of him was a small box wrapped messily in newspaper with red ribbon tied into an uneven bow. Sasori would investigate the package in a moment. For now, he carefully lifted the six year old to take him to his room for his nap.

Deidara was not a light sleeper. He had not even muttered a word during the trip to his room and being set in bed. He had not even muttered a word during the trip to his room and being set in bed. Sasori would be asking about the sloppy band-aids on top of his fingers though. What exactly had the kid been up to? He wondered while he quietly left, making sure the door was shut behind him. At least it seemed to be less destructive than he had thought previously.

Heading back to the kitchen, Sasori found his answer on inspecting the package on the kitchen table. A tag on it was addressed to him and he supposed Deidara had come down to give it to him but had fallen asleep before that was possible. Why there was a gift there was another mystery. It was neither of their birthdays, no anniversary and the only thing that came to mind was it being the beginning of summer.

Curious, the red head quickly and carefully unwrapped the gift and the first thing he saw was a hand made card, complete with the boys messy child scrawl on the paper. Setting that aside, he got the item out of the box and gave it a hard look over. Judging by its design and craftsmanship he knew Deidara had made it(it would also explain the band-aids). Silently he could admit it was not very bad for a boy of Deidara’s age and skill. The small scorpion was made with black cloth with dark blue button eyes, the shape was good enough for him to tell it was a scorpion.

Setting the present down(also noting to question how Deidara got a hold of the materials to make the thing), Sasori turned his attention back to the card with a raised brow.

If there was one thing Sasori had also gotten good at over the past year was deciphering Deidara’s messy writing, misspellings and all.

Almost immediately something on the card gave him pause and he sat down. Father’s Day was written larger than the rest of the words making it stand out there and now in his mind. Father wasn’t really a title he associated with himself or thought about; that would have gone to ‘Genius Craftsman’ or ‘Puppet Master’. Those were well earned from his years of dedication to his art and details on his crafts, ones he took a great deal of pride in.

Father, that was a different deal altogether.

He had adopted the brat and he had long since come to care for the child. Sasori had taken care of him, taught him(finding the boys mind to be like a sponge on some subjects) and gone out of his way more than once for Deidara. After all, he had just come back from setting the boy down for nap and it would have been more unusual for him not to do it now.

Sasori spent a while at the table, thinking in silence over his time with Deidara, and came to the conclusion it was maybe time for him to add another title to his list.

#naruto fanfiction #akasuna sasori #deidara #father's day #majorly ooc #sasori #papa!sasori #child!deidara #this was mostly self indulgent fluff back in the day so #I'm not too happy with it now #the ending and final editing took forever #my writing #naruto

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